Tenebris (Hades x Male!Reader)

Whispers

Y/n. It is the only subject on his mind. Hades oversaw his domain from the view of his throne room. It was not his intention to abandon the younger god; not even his wish to leave Y/n in the company of Hypnos, but he could not foresee a situation in which he involved himself that did not conclude with everything all the worse for it. Hades had already taken the (h/c) god from his temple, his mother, and his home. He had plucked him, like one of Y/n's precious flowers, and Hades had no desire to kill this one. Never this one. Y/n is precious; above all things.

But how could Hades express that in a manner that did not discomfit the other? Or, perhaps, he should focus on how to explore Y/n's expression of himself — his own power and strength. It had been suppressed and dampened his entire existence. Hades's kingdom was perfect to let such a gift run free. Y/n could decay every daktylos of this realm, and Hades would see its rot as beautiful; as deserved.

This time apart... Hades meditated painfully on the thought, I miss him.

It was anomalous, but true. Hades longed for the simple days of watching Y/n in his flower fields or listening to the little god speak of his inane affairs. That did not mean he regretted his actions, but he instead was uncertain of how to translate those moments to the Underworld. Hades felt he must determine a way for Y/n to exist here, as freely as he did in the overworld. Then, his heart thundered — a little greedy — he could have Y/n. As a friend, if he must settle. But Y/n was not worthy of inane responsibilities in Demeter's garden. His value was not equal to being lied to his entire life, and being overlooked by those wretched mortal souls who — he is so much more and they —

Hades eased himself, witnessing how his volatile emotions only darkened the gloom overtaking his temple. A great shadow had befallen the space around him. An unusual blackness clouded the corridors and chambers; only the great heavens of Elysium remained untouched and unbothered by his temper.

Yet, Hades could grant Y/n only so much power and station. He could only humbly offer a throne beside his own... and the idea remained as appealing as ever. Hades even turned to look at the singular throne. Golden threads of light illuminated the seat. It was regal and elegant, but unpalatable — offensive — in its utter solitude.

Hades pondered, and pondered, and worried fiercely about sending Hypnos to call on Y/n... He had even forwent his habitual sessions, holding court with his underlings; always ensuring that the Underworld was intact and his duty fulfilled. But his nerves could not settle...

Much time passed before a presence crept in.

"Is it true?"

Hades's musings were broken by the precarious inquiry. Though, this was in the realm of his expectations. Hypnos had come to him, predictable, a note of trepidation in his every cell. Y/n was safe then, escorted back to his chambers in Hades's temple and Hades could now — exhale.

"Y/n?" Hades prompted first and foremost.

"Well and resting," Hypnos answered, head-wings still fluttering anxiously, rucking up his honey gold hair. "My king, the god —"

"I am aware," Hades silenced the other.

A long-winded vacuum of noise followed. Hades watched over his domain; observed the tiny insignificant mortal souls infect every space and till the Fields endlessly. It was not a surprise that Hypnos had learned of Y/n's incredible gift, but Hades had hoped Y/n would guard the revelation more closely. At least, until Hades himself had a claim on the (h/c) god. It would not due for Y/n to be lured away, by a power-hungry entity, and used. Y/n was more than a meager tool of destruction — and only Hades could truly worship him —

A soft brush of Hypnos's step upon the ground shattered the momentary lapse.

"Is it true? Does Y/n possess a power that can harm us?"

Hades considered the question, a flash of defensiveness overflowing his reasoning. The idea that Y/n's power could incite fear, or worse, rejection — it would not be tolerated... but it could be understood.

"Demeter's fear was real," Hades revealed. "She bears her own scar from him." And even though Hades had never witnessed the depths of Y/n's gift, not with his own eyes, he remained faithful. "I know it is true."

"What will you do with him?" Hypnos questioned, bold and sharp-witted.

"What will I do with him?" Hades faced the other god; the lesser god.

Hypnos's milky, distant eyes glowed ominously in the dark shadows of Hades's throne room. The god of dreams pinned his stare on Hades's, however, and straightened his spine.

"A god such as he, serving you," Hypnos's words were atypically fast, as if participating in a chariot race, "You could take the throne in Olympus."

The world grew infinitely darker. Ice-cold, like the touch of death itself, expanded in the air. There mere suggestion —

"He is not servile," Hades's voice cracked like lightning and reverberated around the room in thunderous waves. "I will clarify this once — be it your head if you ever make a similar mistake again — Y/n is not your equal. He does not serve me — I did not bring him here for the purposing of serving me, or anyone for that matter. He is a friend, whom I hold only in the highest regard, and he will not be used in any distasteful schemes."

And Hypnos was left to stare. His eyes shifted, glittering and studious. He regarded Hades for a long time.

"I apologize," Hypnos whispered. "You —" a strange expression came upon his face, "you are sincere," he observed with something akin to disbelief.

As if he would be anything else.

"Do not question me."

"I am not," Hypnos answered again, remorseful. "I am simply concerned about Y/n's... place here."

Y/n's place here. As much as Hades desired the answer: at my side, he knew this was not yet a reality. The blackening shadows eased.

"Despite your indiscretion, Hypnos," Hades spoke then, trying to prioritize what truly mattered here, "I would ask for your counsel on Y/n."

"Of course," and it was Hypnos who bowed — servile and beneath him.

Y/n... Y/n who stood up to Hades in his tiny garden, who did not quail in the face of his anger, and even when cornered in the Underworld, remained outspoken about his beliefs. Y/n was not a servant — would never be —

"I must be able to approach him without exacerbating any... ill will," it was the last thing Hades wanted, to further hurt and isolate the younger god. To drive the wedge of their sudden distance deeper and more impassable. Hades swallowed, "And I, too, am concerned over his place here. I..."

Hades and Hypnos spoke at length.