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obsessivevoidkitten · 5 months

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Hellbound Angel

Male Yandere Demon x Male Angel Reader (CW: Noncon, drugged reader, drugged sex, drug-like cum, drug-like saliva, big ol' horse cock, literally equine dick, belly bulge, armpit kink, scent kink, musk, underwear sniffing, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, temporarily mind-broken reader, religious themes, dehydration, forced feminization, reader has minor injuries not inflicted by yandere) Word Count: 2.2k

In the never-ending war against the legions of Hell, the middle ground where most of the fighting was done was on Earth. However, the heavenly forces sometimes deemed an incursion into Hell necessary.

You had been sent on a mission to scout ahead and take note of the coming forces.

Angels were stronger than most demons. Even so, almost your entire squad had been wiped out in a bloody ambush. The other survivors had used the one holy recall scroll to teleport themselves back to heaven.

Each squad sent into Hell is given one and only one. They probably thought you were dead already when they left still with demons in pursuit. They had to act quickly. You didn't blame them. Without it, you were trapped here. Unless you could find a demon's gate that could take you to Earth. That's how the demons made it out. But there would certainly be legions of the enemy at such places.

You had managed to escape the slaughter of your scouting party, but you were injured. Your wings had been hurt as had your leg. Relatively minor injuries, but in a hostile land, they certainly made things more difficult.

To be honest, you weren't exactly the strongest angel on a good day. This was not a good day.

You limped along the rocky landscape, using your holy staff as a walking stick. You stayed low to remain unseen by any wandering beasts or demons as you made your way out of the fiery wastelands and into the white sand desert. Hell wasn't all fire and brimstone. It was the most popular depiction of Hell's most dramatic landscape, but there were other biomes, too. Now you were getting into one of the many deserts Hell had to offer.

It was cooler than the burning wastes, but by no means was it comfortable. Water and food were scarce, the white sands were nearly blinding, and the swirling black sky was a constant ominous reminder that you were not safe.

You could go a long time without food and water. You wouldn't die without them, but after a while, you would wither up and be unable to move. You'd go into a kind of stasis. And then you'd be defenseless.

For days, you wandered. At least... you thought it was days. Despite the perpetually black sky the sun never set. Your lips were chapped, your wounds aching, hope dying in your heart. You had to find an oasis to rest at. Build up your strength. From the limited maps you had seen of this region of Hell there should be one at the heart of this desert, but with your wings and legs messed up it would still take many days still to reach it.

There were several more days of endless marching, hobbling on your injured leg that was getting harder and harder to walk on before you finally saw the oasis in the distance. You tried your best to approach stealthily, going behind dunes and sand drifts whenever possible, and wrapping your white wings around you to provide some measure of camouflage with the white sands. As you got near, it disappeared in a puff of smoke. And out of the smoke stood a demon. It was a trap.

Dark brownish red skin, sharp horns, a tail flicking back and forth, and he stood at least a foot taller than you. He was very muscular, his sweat coated abs glistened in the sunlight. He wore nothing. His long horse-like cock and big nuts swinging freely below a thick patch of black pubic hair.

You caught yourself accidentally staring and looked away quickly before readying your divine staff for a fight. Which was really hard, since you could barely stand without it.

The demon winked and chuckled.

"Do you like it~ There's no harm in just looking, you know?"

He closed the distance between the two of you in a flash and knocked the staff away in one fluid motion.

"As a matter of fact, you can do a lot more than look, little bird. My cum would make you feel so much better~ That oasis you're looking for is still miles away."

"Uh, thanks for the kind offer, but I think I will pass. I'll just be on my way and out of your hair."

You stepped back slowly, hoping to make it to your staff so you could maybe limp away and give him a good smack if he followed. But he wasn't giving you the chance.

"Oh, but you're dehydrated!"

He took a few steps forward until there were mere inches between you. He put a hand on your cheek and thumbed at your chapped lips gently.

"Your lips are all dry. Let me help~"

Before you could decline, he held your head in place and leaned down. He traced and prodded your sore lips with his long slick tongue.

You tried to push him away but couldn't do much in your current condition. And the saliva was having some kind of effect on you.

He slipped his tongue past your lips and kissed you greedily.

Your head grew fuzzy and your legs weak. His spit was some type of drug. It felt... nice...

You resisted it as long as you could, even resorting to biting his tongue, but he ignored it and continued. Moments later, you slumped against him, your head on his muscular chest. The only thought in your head as you passed out was how nice this man in front of you smelled.

He picked you up gently and carried you bridal style. It was fitting since you were certainly his little bride now, as far as he was concerned. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head and then started walking towards the underground dwelling he called home.

When you woke up, your wounds had been healed, and you felt a lot better. Though you were still dizzy. There was an intoxicating smell all around you and you didn't recognize your surroundings.

Your first instinct was to jump up and flee, but you were immediately pulled back down and placed in the lap of your demonic captor. His monstrous cock poking out between your thighs.

You looked down and realized you were naked, your soft cock and balls laying on his unnaturally warm prick.

"Let me go!" You elbowed him as hard as you could but he must have made sure you stayed drugged because you couldn't muster up any strength to put into your struggle.

"Let you go? After all the trouble I have gone through to romance you?"

"Romance!? You kidnapped me and I don't even know who the fuck you are, creep!!"

You struggled with renewed anger, smacking your head backwards, elbowing, kicking, and scratching. All amounting to you gasping for breath, tired, while he chuckled at the attempt.

"You're in Hell! I could have raped you and left you in the sand to be killed by any passing monster and that still would have been considered romance."

He placed his large hands on your legs with his thumbs drawing lazy circles on your thighs.

"I saved you from the desert, treated your wounds, let you rest for days, fed you, gave you water, and bathed you. That is damn romantic!"

He started assaulting your neck with little licks and kisses, enjoying how you squirmed in protest while sitting on his equine cock.

"As for the name that you'll be moaning when I bury myself in you, it's Tevrik."

"My friends will come back for me. You should save yourself the trouble and let me go now!"

This was a bluff, of course. They almost certainly thought you were dead. You didn't know if your deception would work, but you didn't expect him to respond with a cackle.

"No, they won't! Rathiel won't let em!"

A shudder went through you at the mention of your boss who had ordered the mission into Hell.

"He's one of Hell's best agents. Gives us lots of intel."

You were dumbfounded and fell silent a moment before regaining your composure and replying angrily.

"Lies from a worthless demon!"

"I'd never lie to you, sweetie~"

He trailed his hands up and down your thighs as he continued.

"How else did we set up that ambush? Rathiel sent you to us. We needed more angel blood. But not yours."

Your blood ran cold as he began grinding into you.

"I picked you out from a bunch of employee profiles just to be my little princess. I'm half angel myself and wanted an angel bride~ We'll rule this region of Hell together!"

He repositioned you on his lap to face towards him as his flared cock grew fully erect.

"You weren't supposed to be hurt in the battle. I'm so sorry about that. I killed the demons who did it."

You didn't even struggle when he positioned you above his dick, hot precum smearing your hole as his cock pressed against it. The betrayal drained the fight from you.

"After the battle, I just followed you for a bit, so you'd be tired. And now here you are. With me."

The precum and smell of his arousal were making you dizzier. The words he spoke brought tears from your eyes.

"Awe, don't cry. After we have some alone time to adjust, I'll take you to the palace~ You'll be royalty!"

You winced as his cock entered you, expecting pain. Surprisingly, there was none. Instead it was like every cell in your body was filled with pleasure.

This couldn't be right. You had to escape. Sex with a demon was a very taboo thing.

You started struggling but Tevrik held you still.

"Shhh, I know you're upset. But just let it happen, okay? I'll make you feel so good."

As his precum continued to dribble out of his dick and into you and as the betrayal by your trusted higher up sank in you once more lost the will to fight.

Why were you fighting anyway? This cock felt so nice. And he was so kind and romantic to go through all this trouble to get you away from your evil boss right?

You relaxed and lay against his chest as he pumped into you slowly. You looked up at him and realized he had your underwear in his hand and was holding it up to his nose sniffing the crotch.

"You smell so good, girly. So good. You feel good too."

"You smell nice too!" Then your brain caught up with the rest of what he had said.

"A-and I'm not a g-girl." Too focused on your pleasure to really care.

"Nah, you're too pretty to be a man. Too weak too. Plus you have this tight little cunt hugging my dick. You're definitely a girly~"

"O-okay."

You blushed because he called you pretty. You supposed he made a lot of sense. You were clearly a girl. You wondered why you didn't know that sooner. It felt right.

He chuckled warmly as you drooled on his chest and made cute little gasps and moans. He couldn't wait until you were moaning his name.

Tevrik didn't pound you, he didn't want to hurt his sweet baby bird. Instead he just rocked his hips into you and enjoyed the effect it had on you.

After you started making those delicious noises his demonic precum began to make you super cuddly. He continued to breed your tight hole while you started nuzzling him and leaving gentle kisses on his chest. He began grinding into you a bit faster and more forcefully, his cock clearly outlined through your belly as it nestled into you as deeply as he could get it.

"Fuck babe, I'm about to bust."

But you came before he did it. Your cock spilling silvery angelic seed on his belly as you called his name and clung to him tightly. The combined sight of you cumming while impaled by his dick while at the same time calling his name just like you promised he would sent Tevrik over the edge. His large balls filled your tummy with hot demon cum. It made you feel warm and fluttery and loved. Like you could feel his emotions through his seed.

You were so tired from all the emotion and sex that you passed out on top of him, nuzzling your nose into the comforting scent of his armpit as you clung to him.

Tevrik smiled. You were just so precious. Sadly, he knew you'd regress back into struggling against him. But that was okay. He would keep reminding you how the angels threw you away and keep breeding you full of his drug-like semen. Soon you'd crave it. He'd bed you constantly until you needed it. And then breed you as much as you wanted him to after that.

Yeah, it would take a while. But he had all the time in the universe.

Tevrik sighed with content and closed his eyes, taking your underwear and putting it back up to his nose while he relaxed with his cock still deep inside you.

You may have been in Hell, but Tevrik was in Heaven.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #yandere monster #yandere #yandere demon #feminized male reader #yandere boyfriend #x male reader #angel reader #male yandere x male reader #my ocs #My OC Tevrik

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yandere-daydreams · 4 months

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Title: A Departure.

Commissioned by the very lovely @ohsotearful.

Pairing: Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Spoilers For Sumeru's Story Quest, Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of Physical/Psychological Abuse, Themes of Forced Codependence, and Maladaptive Coping Mechanisms.

You arrived at the door of his shrine with no less than a dozen guards in tow – an even mix of Fatui soldiers and Akademiya matra. The most brazen among them attempted to follow you inside, but you dismissed them with a quick shake of your head, a pointed look to the more senior members of the mismatched legion. This was a well-trodden routine, by now, although one you never dared to come with the same entourage more than once. Your husband’s recent distance had not softened his jealous edge, and although you weren’t fond of those most complicit in the newest stage of your captivity, no mortal crime could be worthy of the wrath of such a violent god.

Your footsteps echoed – clipped and solitary – against the bare walls of the stone chamber. The architects of his divinity have already been sent away for the night, leaving you alone with the half-finished mess of wires and metal that was your husband’s fixation. The Shouki no Kami, you could remember the Doctor calling it during his first visits to your estate. A ridiculous name for a ridiculous machine that would only serve the ego of a ridiculous man. Bile rose into the back of your throat at the sight alone, but you swallowed your anger. He’d never been able to react to your rage with anything but his own.

You paused at the monstrosity’s feet, and his voice came to you – reverberating in the back of your mind like the final tones of a chapel bell. “Beloved,” he whispered in the back of your mind, sending a pang of pure agony through your skull. “You aren’t supposed to—”

“I will not hold a conversation with a mumbling voice.” You cut him off swiftly, teeth grit and eyes narrowed. “Either I will speak to my husband's face or I will not speak to him at all.”

A moment passed without a response. Then, stiltedly, one of his monstrosity’s hands tore free from its scaffolding, lowering itself to the ground beside you. With some reluctance, you stepped into his palm and allowed him to raise you to the frontmost panel of his abomination. You refused to call it a face, because to call it a face would be to admit it was his face, which would be to admit that this strange machine was in any way an extension of him. The metallic panel raised and disappeared into some unseen cavity, revealing the hollow, unit chamber behind it. Revealing your husband.

Or, rather, revealing the mess he’d made of himself.

He had never been the pinnacle of beauty, but his pale skin now seemed bleached and colorless, his lithe form limp and crumpled. Glass tubes filled with a pulsing, violet substance had been drilled into the nape of his neck, the base of his spine, the curves of his shoulder bones, and the smile he paid you as he came into view was labored, a fight against some artificial exhaustion. Before you could think better of it, you stepped out of his palm and into his chamber, falling to your knees beside him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “You are,” You pressed your lips into his temple. “the biggest idiot,” Then again, into his cheek, the curve of his jaw. “I have ever met.”

He let out an airy chuckle, melting into your chest. “It used to take a vat of water and thirty minutes of electrocution to make you kiss me like that.”

You ignored the phantom rope that coiled around your lungs at the reminder of the first decades of your relationship. You tried to think of it as little as you could, but his vision had always been more rose-colored than your own. “Can’t I show my husband affection?” You raked your fingers through his hair, resting your lips against his forehead. “It’s not as if I’ll be able to kiss the metal coffin you’re locking yourself inside.”

Another laugh, this one more labored than the last. “You could, if you wanted to. Just wait until it’s finished. It’ll be more glorious than you could possibly imagine – a vessel befitting of the most powerful archon this wretched world has ever bowed to.” He attempted to straighten, only to collapse under his own weight. “It’ll be an improvement to this form, at least.”

“I quite like your current form. It’s only a shame it has to house such a rotten personality.” You looked outward, to his empty shrine. At the time of your last visit to Inazuma (meaning, at the time of your last successful escape from your husband), his creator had still been locked inside a similar cage, or so another yokai had told you over bottles of sake and a game of cards. That visit had been one of your shortest. He knew you too well, by then, and it’d only taken him a few weeks to realize you’d run where you always would - home. “I suppose I’ll be left in the care of your doctor, when you’re finished.”

His response was immediate, purely reactive; a sudden snarl paired with a flash of bared teeth. “Dottore should be thankful to so much as breathe your air. You’ll be the paramour of a god.”

“I’ll be left alone while you turn yourself into a monster.” Your voice was hollow, distant. Even now, months into his transformation, it was difficult to describe the flavor of your devastation. He’d taken you from the place where you belonged and kept you as a trophy. He’d denied you any companionship aside from himself and cut away parts of your world until it revolved solely around him. He tucked dried flowers into the letters he wrote you near-obsessively whenever he couldn’t be at your side. He carved open your skin then demanded you keep your own mutilation out of his sight. He used to read you myths and fairy tales for hours every night, when human language was still foreign to your tongue. He was the closest thing to a friend you’d ever had.

And he was leaving you.

You wondered, briefly, if this was how he felt whenever you tried to get away from him, but discarded the thought quickly. It was your heart that ached the most in the wake of his betrayal, and your husband never did have one of those.

“I can’t remember the last time I was on my own,” you admitted, a pained smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I won’t ask you to stop. It’s just, when you’re done, I—” The air snagged in your throat. You inhaled sharply, then rested your head on his shoulder. “I’d like your permission to return to Inazuma, my lord.”

Silenced lapse, thick and heavy, between you. He was the closest thing you had to a friend, which meant he knew just how where to plant his knife and, more significantly, just how to twist the blade.

“No.” Stern, stiff, unyielding. Rather than softening over the centuries you’d spent together, he only seemed to grow more callous. “There’s nothing for you, there. You’ll stay here, with me, and I will rule this rotting land with you at my side.”

You opened your mouth, prepared to protest, to argue the way you hadn’t since the first years of your imprisonment, but closed it just as quickly. You buried your face in the crook of your neck, and your husband let you, eager to soak in the touch you so often denied him. Fire, despair, anger bit and thrashed inside of you, but it was all you could do to hold him, to keep him near.

It was all you could do to think of what you would become, after he was taken away from you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #yandere wanderer #wanderer x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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anonymousewrites · 1 month

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Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Fourteen

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fourteen: Show Goes On

Summary: The Hotel rebuilds and moves on from the fight.

Mouse Note: Thank you for reading Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1)! I hope you all enjoyed because I loved writing this. I'm so excited for Hazbin Hotel to return because I have a lot of ideas for this series, and I'm excited to continue. But for now, thank you for everything! If you like my writing, please check out my other Father Figure series!

“Noooo!” screamed Lute as Adam fell. She ran to Adam’s side, and (Y/N) backed off, narrowing their eyes in case she tried anything. “Sir! Stay with me, sir! Adam!” He was gone.

“It’s over,” said Charlie, holding Vaggie to her side protectively.

Lucifer loomed over Lute, and her eyes widened in fright. “Take your little friends and go home! Please.”

Lute narrowed her eyes and picked up Adam’s halo. Furious at having no other choice, she glared at the demons before calling out to the exorcists. “Retreat. All exorcists fall back.”

The angels rose into the air, fleeing back through the portal to heaven.

Lucifer, pleased, turned to the hotel group. “So…who’s up for pancakes?”

Everyone, bloody and tired, stared at him.

“Good evening, I’m Katie Killjoy,” said the news report later that night.

“And I’m—”

“No one gives a shit who you are, Tom,” said Katie. “Breaking news: extermination day is canceled! Charlie Morningstar managed to fend off the angelic attack with more than just nice words. In an unseen turn of events, our demonic head honcho Lucifer stepped in to save his daughter’s ass in the last moment. We’re also hearing reports that Adam, leader of the Angelic Legions, first man, and totally fuckable bad boy, has been slain by a filthy gardening demon or some shit like that. The kid said, quote, ‘I hate cameras, and TV here sucks, go away’ before threatening our crew! What an asshole! Anyway, congrats to Charlie and her crew for not being totally fucking useless for once.”

Charlie held Keekee as she looked over the rubble that used to be the Hazbin Hotel. They’d lost so much, so many people. “Oh, there, there, it’s…” She sighed. “It’s okay.” She tried to believe it herself, but it was difficult.

Angel smiled at her as he held Fat Nuggets. Charlie managed to smile back and took a step towards him. She found herself in front of the “Happy First Week!” sign she’d made for Pentious. Her heart ached at his loss. Vaggie put her hands on Charlie’s shoulders comfortingly.

(Charlie) “He did it for us, The ultimate sacrifice. He gave me his trust, And look how we pay the prince.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. She had failed her friends. Because she hadn’t been strong enough, they had gotten hurt, killed.

(Charlie) “This bloodshed could have been avoided, If I convinced heaven to work together. I took a hotel, and I destroyed it, I know I could have done better, better, Instead of letting you down.”

Lucifer put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and smiled at her.

(Lucifer) “Come on little lady, why the frown? In the last ten thousand years, you’re the first one to change this town, You can do this, Now I know it, For your story has just begun, You can’t quit now, Hell, you owe it, There’s still damage to be undone, You’ve changed my mind, You’ve touched their hearts.”

Charlie looked around as her friends approached with a smile.

(Lucifer) “Found the good in souls gone bad, The stage is wrecked, the crowd is gone, But by God Charlie, The show it must go on!”

Her friends gathered around Charlie.

(Vaggie, Cherri, (Y/N), Angel, Husk, Niffty) “We can do this, We can build it! Best hotel that you’ve ever seen! Twice the bedrooms, We can fill it!” (Lucifer) “With more sinners than you can dream!” (Lucifer and Vaggie) “It starts with you!” (Vaggie, Cherri, (Y/N), Lucifer, Angel, Husk, Niffty) “You know it’s true, Fulfill your destiny!”

They reached out their hands. Wiping her tears and smiling, Charlie stood and took her father’s hand as the group came together for a hug.

(Charlie) “So long as I’ve got all of you with me!”

And so, the cleanup and work began. It was tough going, but everyone pitched in, and the hotel began to come together better than before.

(Niffty) “To build a hotel, I think we need some brick and lumber!” (Lucifer) “Good thing we’re in Hell, check out this little magic number.”

He snapped his fingers, and the supplies appeared.

(Angel) “Start with foundation.” (Lucifer) “A remedial creation for me.”

The foundation came together in a single spell.

(Niffty, Angel, Lucifer) “It’s as easy as can be!”

Soon, the hotel was getting decorated, rooms ready to be stayed in.

(Charlie) “No time for cryin’, We got a lot of work to do and, We gotta try and make the best of what’s in ruins.” (Vaggie) “New coat of paint!” (Husk) “New lights across the marquee!” ((Y/N)) “With a little sorcery!”

They waved a hand, and plants grew up around the hotel, decorating it with nature amongst the barren city that Pride usually was.

Finally, the hotel was put back together, with a statue of Dazzle outside. Charlie smiled at the painting of Pentious and the Egg Bois going up in the foyer to honor his memory. The memories of who they lost would never be forgotten as a new era of the Hazbin Hotel approached.

(All) “We can do this!” (Charlie) “We can do this!” (All) “We’ll be better!” (Charlie) “We’ll be better!” (All) “Though redemption may take a while.” (Charlie) “Though it may take a while.” (All) “Wayward sinners, clear their ledger!”

They came together for a hug, and a familiar face popped out of the shadows.

(Alastor) “And we’re doing it with a smile!”

(Y/N) grinned. He was healed and back with them. He had survived, too.

(Charlie) “We’ll make a difference, wait and see.” (Charlie and Vaggie) “We’re gonna do this, you and me.” (All) “And then tomorrow it will be, A fuckin’ happy day in Hell!”

The Hazbin Hotel was open for business.

(Y/N) walked through the hotel to the new wing dedicated to Alastor’s broadcasts. Obviously, it was placed on the opposite side from Lucifer’s apple-themed wing. They paused at the door of the radio and knocked.

“Alastor?” they called out.

The door was opened by a shadow, and (Y/N) stepped inside. Alastor was standing over the controls of the new radio, examining everything.

“Do you like it?” asked (Y/N), slightly nervous.

Yes, they had faced Adam, but this was…different. It was a different type of encounter. With a fight, (Y/N) knew what it felt like to suffer, to go through pain, so they could handle that. With friendship, (Y/N) had very little experience, so they weren’t sure how to deal with it.

Alastor turned to face them. “It seems Charlie did a good job ensuring this was up to my standards. My broadcasts will be quality, as usual.”

“Charlie didn’t make it. Well, she helped, but I, uh, I did it,” said (Y/N).

Alastor paused, and his grin, unbidden, widened. “You did?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I saw your tower was affected when Adam hurt you, so when we rebuilt the hotel, I made sure there was something for you to come back to.”

“I hadn’t expected to have a broadcast tower at the hotel,” said Alastor.

“Do you like it?” asked (Y/N).

“I do,” said Alastor honestly.

(Y/N) brightened. “I’m glad! And I’m glad you’re alright. Adam did a lot of damage to the hotel, killed Pentious, and hurt you pretty badly.”

“It will take more than that to kill the Radio Demon,” said Alastor, but the unfortunate truth was that he had nearly died.

“I faced him,” said (Y/N) suddenly.

Alastor paused. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I fought Adam. It didn’t go that well for me, either.” They grinned at him. “But I killed him. In the end, I killed him.” They stood proud in their strength and determination. Yes, (Y/N) had nearly fallen to Adam and Lucifer had really defeated him, but dealing the killing blow had given (Y/N) so much satisfaction.

Alastor looked at (Y/N), and he cursed every part of him that still had some humanity since he felt something as they smiled at him. It wasn’t what he felt when Rosie laughed alongside him and teased him, but it held a familiar warmth. Although he had begun by seeing something in (Y/N) that reminded him of himself from oh-so long ago, Alastor couldn’t help but look at (Y/N) and just see them, now. It wasn’t them being like him, even if it still began there, but it was more.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of my protégé,” said Alastor, unable to keep the fondness completely out of his voice.

Alastor was falling victim to all of the weaknesses he wanted to eliminate within himself.

And (Y/N)? Well, the Nature Demon stood tall. They were growing into all the strength they had ever wished for.

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safe-from-sharp-teeth · 4 months

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get yourself a giant who:

is mean

doesn't seem to like you at all tbh

somehow, would still protect you ? ?

looks like a big onion

holds you like a cat

(go read @philicheesecake's The Unseen Legion :) )

#zan art #ul fanart #g/t #gt art #i titled this “angry onion” on krita

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ikroah · 2 months

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I have reached the breaking point, the point of no return, it’s very clear to see a fool like me will never, ever learn. I have reached the breaking point, I hear the drums of doom, I’m gonna flip my wig in one great big atomic boom! —“The Breaking Point,” Bobby Darin (1966)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #27 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding VI

Collaborative Issue! Guest Artist: @sas-afras

«« First | « Previous || Next » | Last »»

Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own

Notes / Transcript:

Notes

Huge thanks to Monty over at @sas-afras for getting this one done! I handled the original layout and lettering, but the rest was all them. Layouts like this can seem simple and easy because of how straight-forward and repetitive they are, but when all you've got are a dozen and one reaction shots, every single one of those reaction shots needs to be as perfect as you can get them. And Monty did a hell of a job. Especially on the coloring! Monty, if you're reading this, you're a hell of a good colorist (on top of everything else). Thanks again!

Another note about this issue is that it, along with the previous one, were some of the most difficult to write in this whole damn comic so far. I really hate repeating in-game dialogue verbatim without good reason, but there's really not much else I could do here. It's a very necessary part of the story that is also literally a part in the game where your character is fixed in place listening to a monologue. I took some liberties, did some punch-up, not just for its own sake but to really drive home what I find most interesting and vital here about Mr. House as a character.

Anyway, Agnes is in trouble. And there's only one issue left in Volume 2! The next one closes out this arc of the story, at long last. Stay tuned.

Transcript

INT. LUCKY 38 BASEMENT. From an observation deck of sorts, AGNES SANDS watches several SECURITRON robots position themselves in a testing area, containing several sandbags, dummies, and makeshift fortifications. A voice booms from an unseen speaker.

MR. HOUSE: You're well familiar with my Securitron police force. But have you ever wondered: what exactly makes them the marquee option in perimeter security and pacification?

AGNES glances in the direction of the voice, uncomfortable.

MR. HOUSE: Well to start, the reinforced titanium alloy housing of each unit, which protects its electronic core, easily deflects small arms and shrapnel.

MR. HOUSE: As for its offensive capabilities, its X-25 gatling laser—produced to spec by Glastinghouse, Inc.—is deadly against soft targets at medium range.

SFX: BZZTZZTZZTZZTZZT

AGNES recoils as a red glow washes over her from the testing area.

MR. HOUSE: And then for close-range suppression or crowd control, the Securitron is also armed with a 9mm sub-machinegun.

SFX: DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA

AGNES shuts her eyes, wincing from the crack of gunfire.

MR. HOUSE: These features have been sufficient for keeping the peace within Vegas, but with the NCR and Legion closing in on Hoover Dam, and sizing up my city like a piece of prize cake, more than ever we need to be prepared for, well...external conflict. Policing is one thing, but when geopolitical powers are involved, my Securitrons can only pose so much of a threat.

MR. HOUSE: That is...if they're forced to rely exclusively on their secondary weapons--as they have been, all this time!

AGNES looks upward, surprised.

MR. HOUSE: Remember, the Great War interrupted a pivotal moment for RobCo's work. Consequently, all extant Securitrons have been stuck, running on a mere Mark I operating system—the first production version of the OS—which has simply lacked the software drivers for the use of their primary weapons all this time!

AGNES looks around, as if HOUSE were in the room somewhere and she could find him, in a panic.

MR. HOUSE: The platinum chip, you see, was never just a token. At a time when industrial espionage ran rampant, it was minted as a high capacity, proprietary, and uniquely irreplicable data storage device. In a way, it's more like a computer chip. And now—with the data from the platinum chip finally installed onto my nextwork—it's time for a very crucial software update. Behold: the new Mark II Securitrons!

AGNES gawks downward at the testing area, eyes wide. Oh no.

MR. HOUSE: Their newly accessible M-235 Missile Launcher gives them the ability to engage ground and air targets at significantly longer ranges...

SFX: PSSSSSHHH KTHOOM THOOM THOOM THOOM

AGNES flinches, covering her face for protecting, and screams as explosions rip apart the testing area below.

MR. HOUSE: ...and their rapid-fire G-28 grenade launching system, another part of the Mark II, makes them much more powerful in close-range engagements as well.

SFX: THMP THMP THMP KRRSSH KRAKTK KABOOM

AGNES, nearly frozen, watches the bombardment with horror.

MR. HOUSE: It also includes rewritten drivers for the Securitrons' auto-repair systems—although always sophisticated, the new optimizations render them inexhaustible in even the most protracted and attritious of engagements. Altogether, the Mark II upgrade confers a 235% total increase in combat effectiveness per unit—and it's all because of you!

AGNES lowers her arm slowly, jaw slack, mortified.

MR. HOUSE: Vegas finally has an army—worthy to protect not just the city itself, but the best interests of all of mankind, at home and abroad. Which is to say: this simple display of might remains a mere teaser for what I can, and what I will, accomplish, in an illustrious new epoch.

AGNES sinks further into a paralytic terror.

MR. HOUSE: What we will accomplish, Agnes—should you accept my offer, of employment. Ah—but I digress. I'm certain that you've had a long day. You can rejoin Miss Cassidy in the presidential suite for the night, if you'd like to, as they say, "sleep on it."

MR. In fact...say for as long as you'd like. However long you may need, to think everything over. And you'll be very well provided for in the meantime, consider it a taste of what could be...should you make the right choice before you.

MR. HOUSE: That reminds me—I've already sent Victor to collect your belongings from the Vault 22 Hotel, so no need to exhaust yourself further by making that trip on your own, hm? There's much about your future to consider, Agnes—and I would like you to think of it as our future.

AGNES stares straight ahead with a deadened expression.

The testing area in the basement has been reduced to smithereens. Fires rage on the rubble of obliterated structures, gnarled steel, and collapsed walkways. The dummies have been dismembered entirely.

MR. HOUSE: ...Goodness, what a mass. With friends like these, I sure wouldn't envy my enemies.

MR. HOUSE: Wouldn't you agree?

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #mr. house #courier six #agnes sands #it keeps right on a hurtin #ikroah archive #volume 02 #27

119 notes · View notes

jungkookschin · 2 months

Text

demigod trials: achilles’ heel | four

synopsis: you’re a roman, he’s a greek. his father is poseidon, your mom is minerva.

taehyung rules the waters, is friends with sea nymphs, hippocampi, and mermaids- but you? you're deathly afraid of water; consider it your achilles' heel.

he’s annoying, disrespectful, and rude but you need his help especially when the oracle sends you on a quest to the sea

word count: 9.5k

pairings: son of poseidon!taehyung x daugher of minerva!reader

genre: ENEMIES TO LOVERSS, slowburn, bantering, SMUT (non explicit bc idk)

warnings: death, sacrifices, swordfighting, smut (non explicit), broken friendships, obvious use of ai to rewrite entences LOL

author's note: i dont think this could be read as a stand alone. maybe it could, but u would probably need to read the other chapters for context. also yes this is a whole new OC, and this one is kinda spicy. not crazy explicit, but it's spicy. the more i elaborate on it the spicier itll get idk. thank

demigod trials masterlist

When you were five years old, your mother, the Roman goddess Minerva, bestowed you with a dream you are still unable to interpret.

In the dream, you were on the Santa Monica beach, frantically chasing after an owl, your little feet clumsily trekking across the sand.

The blue sky stretches endlessly, a serene canvas painted with the vibrant hues of tranquility.

Silhouetted against the brilliant blue sky, the owl gracefully soars, its wings outstretched, as the sun casts a warm glow through its feathers.

As the owl glides above the ocean, you ineptly run into the ocean, unaware of your impending plunge into the waves, frustration permeating your system as the majestic bird leads you farther into the water.

Panic grips you as the weight of realization sinks in—unable to catch the elusive owl, you find yourself engulfed by the ocean's depths, struggling against the water.

Desperation takes hold as you thrash against the water, limbs flailing in a frantic attempt to resurface.

Overwhelmed by the relentless embrace of the ocean, you succumb to its depths, your desperate gasps for air silenced by the water's cold grip.

From the unseen shadows, a boy with blue hair dives into the water, pulling you from the drowning abyss.

The boy with blue hair swims elegantly to the shore, his little arms exerting strength to conquer the ocean’s unforgiving waves before he lays you on the shore and dives back into the sea.

Minerva, the Roman goddess and counterpart of Athena, embodies the essence of wisdom, strategic prowess, and artistic patronage, symbolized by the owl and the tools of war and craftsmanship.

Minerva, as a virgin goddess, signifies a commitment to celibacy and purity; she didn't undergo a conventional pregnancy.

Instead, she formed a connection with a man, your father, valuing his intellect, and she bestowed you as a unique gift, birthing you from her mind.

Yup, you were literally birthed from her mind and your little fetus self physically emerged from her forehead.

You don’t know what it looks like- to birth someone from a forehead- and quite frankly you don’t want to visualize that image.

Embracing your heritage as a daughter of Minerva, the Roman counterpart to Athena, you took on the position of Tribunus Laticlavius.

In your role as Tribunus Laticlavius of the Roman Legion, you hold the position of second-in-command to the Praetors, Mina and Mingyu.

You embodied the wisdom and strategic prowess associated with your mother, guiding the legion with a keen intellect and maintaining discipline among the ranks.

You, Mina, and Mingyu share a strong bond that originated from your upbringing in New Rome.

New Rome is a hidden city founded by demigods (children of gods and mortals) who sought a safe haven from monsters and the challenges faced by demigods in the mortal world.

Modeled after ancient Rome, it serves as a sanctuary for those with divine heritage.

Playing hopscotch besides the Panthenon, indulging in the Roman-esque public baths, and leaving sacrifices in your parents’ respective temples, your connections have endured over time and have played a significant role in shaping your leadership roles within the Roman Legion.

It’s all thanks to your mother. The intellect and wisdom inherited from your mother is what has garnered you success- but right now, you’re not sure what to do because these days, you’re starting to question Mina’s sanity.

You can tell by the way she angrily paces around the room, and you can’t do anything but exchange concerned glances with Mingyu.

Mina, the daughter of Venus, and one of your best friends has often struggled with how she is perceived as Praetor of the Roman Legion.

Praetors, as the highest-ranking members of the Legion, command fearlessly and are to be taken seriously.

Being the first female Praetor, Mina has had a tough time getting soldiers- especially men- to take her seriously. Her authority is often challenged- and people often question if she is strong-minded enough to assume the role.

Furthermore, Mina is also the first child of Venus, the Roman counterpart of Aphrodite, to assume the role of Praetor.

Love, beauty, sex?

Everything associated with Venus directly contradicts the traits of a Praetor. And some assholes within the legion even coined the nickname the Gilded Dove- directly insinuating she is as weak as a dove and as superficial as gilding.

“Mina, there could have been another way,” Mingyu urges, leaning against the wall of Mina’s office in the Praetorium.

The Praetorium is the official residence or headquarters of a Praetor, including living quarters and spaces for administrative and official duties.

You nod your head in concurrence with Mingyu. “When the son of Ares and the daughter of Hephaestus return tonight, we can reconvene and plan for something else. We need to collaborate with the Greeks to defeat Tartarus,” you urge, desperation clouding your eyes as you stare into the soul of your best friend.

Mina shakes her head, landing in her office chair, elbows planted to the desk as she shoves her face into her palms. “Are you not making these suggestions because they’re our friends?” she asks between gritted teeth.

“Think about the people in danger,” she continues, “If Tartarus ascends through Camp Jupiter, we’ll all die. Kids will die. Elderly will die. Innocent people will be dead. The very foundations of our camp will be over- done.”

Mingyu sighs, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter that they’re our friends. It matters because they’re people,” he steps forward. “Think about the message it sends: the Praetors willingly sacrificing innocent people to an evil god means that the Romans are tyrants-”

Mina slams her first on the table. “I don’t care what people think of us. I care that people are safe! The sacrifice of two is worth the lives of millions!”

Now, you’re sure you and Mina can really get into the moral and philosophical implications of sacrificing two innocent demigods in exchange for the safety of New Rome, but you keep silent.

In the silence that follows, Mingyu groans and flicks his head against the wall, creating a thud.

Mina inhales, “Proceeding the sacrificial ceremony, we will reconvene with the high ranking officers to devise a plan to defeat Tartarus. Hopefully the sacrifice will appease him for the time being. We don’t need Camp Half-Blood’s assistance.”

“Mina,” you reason, voice becoming soft to placate the tense atmosphere, “We need the Greeks to defeat him. The Greeks will refuse to collaborate with us if we even attempt to sacrifice their best demigods.”

Mina rubs her temples, features morphing into frustration. “As long as my people, the Romans, are safe, that is fine.”

She swivels her office chair around, gazing at the landscape of New Rome. You know Mina. You’re sure she’s becoming emotional gazing at the architectural intricacies of New Rome: the temples, the public baths, the Colloseum, the Senate House- all of it embodies Rome.

All of it embodies home.

Neither you nor Mingyu say a word.

“You are now dismissed,” Mina simmers, pure exhaustion imbued in her words.

You exhale, acquiescing as you and Mingyu exit the office.

If Mingyu were still the highest ranking Praetor, this entire situation could have been avoided.

A year ago, he royally fucked up when he used the chariot (reserved solely for wars) for pizza deliveries, paving the way for Mina to take his place.

The thought is so idiotic that you have to stop yourself from strangling him.

It's becoming clearer to you why some criticize Mina. Perhaps she isn’t strong minded enough to the Praetor, especially considering her inclination towards the most drastic decision.

But as frustrated with her as you are, you know you can’t disobey the highest ranking Praetor. You have no right to challenge her.

You and Mingyu stride across the hallways until he enters his office.

You almost flinch when Mingyu slams his head against the wall. “Gods, everything is going to shit!” he seethes, leaning his forearms against the wall.

You bite your lip. “It’ll be okay.”

Your voice is calm, and all you can do is offer him a sweet, comforting smile. “Mina does have one point,” you reason, “We need to keep everybody here safe. If anyone leaves the camp, the monsters will most likely get to them.”

And it’s true. Romans reside in Camp Jupiter for a reason- for its magical borders shielding demigods and descendants of demigods from monsters.

You step forward, placing a reassuring hand on Mingyu's shoulder.

Mingyu turns his head to look at you, and his eyes soften. “You’re right Y/N,” He sighs, flopping onto the plush loveseat in his office. He puts a hand on his chin, gathering his thoughts before he expresses what’s on his mind.

“It’s just- the son of Ares and the daughter of Hephaestus- they’re my best friends. I mean- you remember Jungkook, right?” He asks, eyebrows creasing as he nervously plucks at the threads of the loveseat.

Of course you remember Jungkook. Having spent an entire year at Camp Jupiter as Assistant Commander to the Roman Legion, he left an impression with his cold, hardworking, and rigidly serious demeanor—so much so that one might mistake him for a Roman instead of a soft Graecus.

Once, a harpy attacked the camp grounds, and Jungkook swiftly eliminated the threat with a single, decisive slice.

You did not want to make an enemy out of him.

But here you are, willingly sacrificing him to Tartarus.

The daughter of Hephaestus wasn’t someone you were familiar with. All you knew about her was that she fell into Tartarus with Jungkook, and that she died before coming back to life with the Physician’s Cure.

“The daughter of Hephaestus and the son of Ares,” you begin… trailing off slightly, “Mingyu, I think they’ll survive. They’ve been in Tartarus once; they can certainly do it again.”

Mingyu’s eyes turn serious as he nods. “I hope so. They’re tough. Jungkook is…” Mingyu pauses to collect his thoughts, “Jungkook is probably the strongest demigod alive right now.”

At that, you scoff amusedly. “So you’re willingly admitting he’s stronger than you?”

A smile graces his lips and he shrugs. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

You laugh, plopping down on the loveseat and leaning your head against his shoulder. “I’m just happy you’re still the same you. I’m worried about Mina,” you express to which Mingyu nods and throws an arm around you.

“I know,” he agrees, “But it’s our job to follow her and protect her. If she isn’t going to budge on this then we must ensure everything else proceeds smoothly.”

You meet his eyes, trying to read between the lines. You narrow your eyes before you verbally express what you think he may be thinking.

“There’s nothing stopping us from helping them survive Tartarus… right? Maybe we can gift them resources.”

A smile grows on his lips and Mingyu snaps his fingers. “Bingo. Let’s head to the Limenarium.”

The Limenarium is the designated underground storage for all the top secret weapons and supplies of Camp Jupiter.

Access to the Limenarium is restricted to high-ranking officers, and the only way to get there is by taking a secret elevator beneath the ground, whirling through an underground tunnel.

After thirty minutes of travel, you arrive at the entrance of the Limenarium, coming across a very exhausted Yoongi.

Yoongi, the son of Pluto, the Roman counterpart of Hades, yawns while holding a golden staff. He stands guard in front of the Limenarium.

There’s really nothing to stand guard for because the Limenarium is hidden for the public, but it’s within protocol to assign a guard in front of the warehouse at all times.

He nods in acknowledgement when he sees you two approach. “Sup, guys. Where’s Mina?”

You and Mingyu are great at concealing any signs of trouble.

Even if you find her decisions perplexing, maintaining a façade of unwavering respect and honor for Mina in public is essential for the sake of the Roman Legion.

Mingyu shrugs, “She’s in a meeting with the Centurion- sent us down here to test some prototypes out.”

Yoongi shrugs. He doesn’t have a reason to question the Praetor so he doesn’t, pressing in a code to grant you and Mingyu entrance.

On one side, weapons are systematically arranged, ranging from traditional Roman weaponry like gladii and pila to more advanced armaments. Each item is cataloged and labeled for easy retrieval.

Adjacent to the weapons, designated zones contain carefully stacked supplies—armor, shields, medical provisions, and other essentials.

At the heart of the Limenarium is a central command area, featuring a console with intricate displays monitoring the inventory. High-ranking officers like you and Mingyu can access detailed information about the stored assets from this central hub.

You and Mingyu survey the interior of the command area until Mingyu finally pulls out what he’s looking for.

“Here it is,” Mingyu announces, pulling out the emblem of the golden eagle.

The emblem of the golden eagle represents the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, a powerful Roman demigod military unit in New Rome. This legion is closely associated with Jupiter, the Roman counterpart of Zeus, and Mingyu’s father.

The golden eagle serves as a symbol of divine protection and the legion’s connection to the gods.

The emblem embodies the strength, authority, and divine favor that the legion believes it possesses.

If wielded properly, tendrils of lightning will surge from the eagle’s beak and electrocute the wielder’s enemies to death in a single instance.

“You’re giving it to Jungkook?” you question, to which Mingyu nods.

“Anything to salvage our relationship,” he shrugs.

You stand in front of the podium, fully armored and steadily observing the Greeks who walk into the Senate House. They stroll along the golden carpet, flanked by Roman Legion soldiers securing its every edge.

You quickly notice Rose, a childhood friend, and lately, it seems she identifies more with the Greeks at Camp Half-Blood than with the Romans, often spending more time there than with you.

You see Taehyung son of Poseidon, Namjoon son of Athena, and the sacrifices for Tartarus: Jungkook son of Ares and (OC) daughter of Hephaestus.

The tension becomes palpable, the air charged with electricity, as you instinctively glance around to see if Mingyu is subtly demonstrating his son of Jupiter abilities.

The Greeks are a direct juxtaposition to the Romans. The Legion is equipped with full body armor while the Greeks are comfortably dressed in Camp Half-Blood T-Shirts.

Your eyes narrow in on Taehyung, a son of Poseidon who is adorned in an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, sweatshorts, and sandals.

Had you not been sacrificing his friends you would have reprimanded him wearing such sleazy attire.

The Greeks leisurely traverse the expanse of the golden carpet, their steps echoing in the grand hall, until they finally arrive at the imposing podium.

Positioned steadfastly by the podium, you assume your post, with the Praetors standing in a composed formation behind you, forming a united front to address the impending proceedings.

Taehyung approaches, shielding his friends, and his face becomes dangerously close to yours. His face exudes cockiness, a smug smirk gracing his lips as he tilts his head, rummaging in his pockets for a pen.

He holds it up, almost taunting you as he arrogantly bites his lips.

Riptide or Anaklusmos- the name of his sword.

You are fully cognizant of the pen's true nature. By pressing its base, the pen undergoes a transformation, morphing into a Celestial Bronze sword.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Put the weapon away.”

Taehyung amusedly scoffs. “So you guys are allowed to be dressed up in full body armor, but we can’t pull up with weapons for self defense?” he mocks, “And you guys are the ones sacrificing our people too. The Romans are heartless,” he muses, placing a faux hand over his heart.

You sigh.

“Troops! Fall back!” you yell, acquiescing to Taehyung’s very valid point.

He tilts his head provocatively, pressing on the end of the pen to unveil his blade. “You know what they say, when in Rome…” His eyes glaze over his blade, admiring its beauty before he redirects his gaze towards your face.

It looks bad- a Greek unsheathing his sword directly in front of the Tribunus Laticlavius was a clear sign of a threat. The soldiers around you assume offensive stances and you put your hand up, ordering them to fall back.

“Taehyung- we don’t want to do this. If you don’t put the weapon away, we’re going to have to kick you out,” you reason, pulling off your helmet. Perhaps showing him your face would allow him to sense your humanity- your sincerity.

You know that Taehyung has every right to be upset, and you’re trying to show him the right amount of respect without offending the Roman Legion.

Your hair falls back against your armor, and you attempt to offer him a tight-lipped smile to build some sort of camaraderie during this extremely difficult situation.

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you before tapping on the sword to turn it back into a pen. He turns back to his friends. “Nothing to worry about here! It’s just a kid of Minerva!” he announces- loudly, before returning to his friends.

Your eye twitches, but you refuse to fall in your composure.

Typical of a son of Poseidon, you sneer in your mind.

Your mother’s Greek counterpart Athena and Poseidon were known to have hated each other for centuries. Athena and Poseidon's rivalry stems from a competition over patronage of the city of Athens, with Athena's practical and beneficial gift of the olive tree winning over Poseidon's more destructive and less useful gift of a salty spring.

Poseidon was a sore loser. He was salty that his niece beat him in a competition over the patronage of Athens and has held a grudge since. Since then, family reunions have been painfully awkward- with passive aggressive comments and strained silences filling the air.

Men. They’re the worst. Talk about a sleazy uncle! Apparently, the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree! Nonetheless, you digress.

Taehyung walks up the stairs of the Senate House to directly address the Praetors Mina and Mingyu.

“We’re giving you guys one last chance to reconsider- and look- we’ll sacrifice (OC) and Jungkook to prevent war with Camp Jupiter but afterwards we request that you leave us alone. Camp Half-Blood wants nothing to do with Camp Jupiter.”

You remain rigid, staring at the wall in front of you instead of directly looking at Taehyung.

Mingyu sighs, “Dude, don’t do this. You know we’re just trying to protect the camp,” he reasons.

Taehyung creases his brows, “You’re killing innocent people. Jungkook and (OC) did nothing wrong, and you know that,” he seethes. “I mean- what happened to us? I thought we were friends? Mina’s not gonna fuck you if you follow her every order like a dog.”

Scandalous gasps echo throughout the room before a looming silence lulls over the Senate House. The silence is so oppressive that you could hear a pin drop.

You wince, anticipating Mina’s response before Mingyu cuts her off.

“Alright, fair,” Mingyu relents, “You can talk your shit so long as you comply with the Legion’s orders.”

A smirk decorates Taehyung’s lips. “Oh I will talk my shit. The Romans are pathetic. You guys are scared shitless of Tartarus but us Greeks are gladly willing to plummet straight into his domain.”

Mina clears her throat, “And we applaud you for your courage. This sacrifice will not be undermined by the Roman Legion. We will do anything to keep our sacred city safe. If you wish to cut ties with Camp Jupiter, so be it.”

Her words are decisive and you can’t fathom Taehyung coming up with another snarky response - but he does.

His eyes become rigidly serious, and with a commanding gesture, he manipulates his palms. Silence falls over the onlookers as Taehyung effortlessly conures tendrils of water into the Senate House, the liquid dancing within Taehyung’s predetermined boundaries.

The water coils around Mingyu’s neck and torso, ensnaring him like ethereal ropes. You realize that the water is from the Little Tiber, a river miles away from the Senate HOuse.

You can’t even imagine the extent to which Taehyung can manipulate water.

“Let it be known,” Taehyung seethes, tightening his fists to further suffocate Mingyu within his tendrils of water, “that the Greeks are doing this out of their own free will,” he declares.

“You did not force us to do anything, and we are doing this for the sake of peace. Understand?”

Mingyu’s face turns an ungodly shade of red and Taehyung narrows his eyes at his former friend, tightening his fist even further.

Nobody is intervening, and you reckon that you ought to stop Taehyung from suffocating Mingyu so you momentarily consider stepping in- until Rose places a hand on his bicep.

He lets go of his fist, and the tendrils of water splash onto the ground of the Senate House.

Mingyu remains stoic, inhaling heavily. Despite near suffocation, he remains his composure, standing mightily like a Roman statue.

You shift uncomfortably, and Mina makes an announcement. “The Legion is dismissed! Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter will reconvene in the Praetorium in thirty minutes!”

With a swish of her cape, she marches away, with Mingyu following in her stead.

You remain in class, saluting the Praetors whilst you wait for the Senate House to clear out.

Once the Legion has cleared from the Senate House, you clear your throat and immediately shed yourself of your armor.

You approach the Greeks. “I need you guys to follow me,” you implore.

Camp Half-Blood (and Rose) slowly turn their heads towards you.

Taehyung blinks. “Why would we do that?”

You sigh, though you already anticipated pushback, and redirect your attention to Rose. “Look. Mingyu and I tried to talk Mina out of it but you know we can’t do anything against the highest ranking Praetor.”

Rose’s expression softens, “Gods Mina has lost her shit! You can’t just sacrifice innocent people to Tartarus!”

You nod in concurrence- politically savvy enough not to explicitly express any opinion.

“I get why you’re mad,” you continue, “the very least I can do is offer help,” you whisper, to which everybody’s expressions become enveloped in curiosity.

You clear your throat. “Mingyu wants to give you the Golden Eagle of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata,” you explain, to which Rose’s eyes widen.

“Seriously? That was gifted to the Legion by Jupiter himself,” she elicits.

You nod. “I know what Camp Jupiter is doing is awful- but at the very least I can tell you that I personally am not your enemy.”

You redirect your attention to Jungkook and (OC). “You guys survived Tartarus once, and you can do it again,” you encourage, “I’ll be doing everything above ground to eliminate the threat and ensure that you remain safe.”

Taehyung snaps his fingers in your face. “Hey, no addressing the sacrifices directly. You gotta talk to me. I’m the spokesperson here.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Okay,” you comply. “So do you want the eagle or not?”

Namjoon and Taehyung exchange glances.

“Yea, we’re in.”

You take Camp Half-Blood directly to the Limenarium- moving underground to stay out of sight to the other Roman citizens.

Skirting underground, Taehyung addresses you. “Don’t you think your military system is impractical?” he questions, probably with genuine intent but his tone is condescending, “If you can’t stop Mina from doing stupid shit then you might as well consider Rome a tyranny.”

“Yes,” you respond, somewhat irritated, “But Mina has the backing of the emperor. If the emperor is in on it, then there’s nothing we can do. They had to conspire to murder Caesar for a reason.”

Taehyung’s features envelop in distaste. “Don’t you feel belittled? You’re a high ranking officer but you have no freedom.”

You don’t give him a response.

A teasing smile graces his lips, “Did I hit a nerve, princess?”

You blink at him irritatedly.

You’d happily oblige to discuss the impracticalities of the Roman military system, but Taehyung is simply insufferable.

You decide that it’d be wise to keep quiet.

As you skirt through the underground tunnels of the Limenarium, you’re suddenly stopped by a ginormous basin of water. It’s so deep that when you peer over the ledge, you aren’t able to perceive the bottom.

All eyes flicker towards you.

“Since when did Camp Jupiter have an underground pool?” Rose asks.

You shrug. “I-I don’t know. I’ve never seen this before.”

Namjoon shrugs. “Taehyung can carry us over on a wave or we can swim.”

At that, you tense, and you meet eyes with Rose. Rose, another one of your childhood friends, is ineptly aware of your biggest and only fear: water.

Taehyung nonchalantly shrugs, effortlessly lifting his shirt with a casual demeanor - after all, why would he be phased? As a son of Poseidon, water poses no threat. "Meh. I don't feel like exerting any energy right now."

A sudden confession escapes your lips, breaking the silence of the tunnels. "Wait- I can't swim."

The stillness that follows feels almost tangible, and you can't help but blush, baring your own vulnerability.

Taehyung blinks, his gaze fixed on you. "Wait, you're the head of the Roman Legion, but you can't swim?"

Namjoon elbows Taehyung, prompting him to clear his throat. "No, it's not a bad thing. I was a little taken aback," he explains. "I can carry you over if you're comfortable with that."

Your cheeks flush deeper as you rub your biceps nervously. "Y-yeah. If that's alright."

With a confident yet gentle motion, Taehyung lifts you effortlessly, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. Your eyes meet his, and you awkwardly clear your throat before looking away.

He does the same, gaze uncomfortably flickering around the underground tunnel.

A subtle but undeniable tension lingers in the air. The closeness and the rhythmic beating of your heart mix with the soft echoes of the underground tunnels.

“Hold on tight, wise girl,” Taehyung instructs.

“I know-”

A sudden wave rushes forward, freezing in place as if offering Taehyung a seat on his throne.

He leisurely steps onto the wave and allows it to gently carry you towards the other side. He doesn’t appear to be smug as he usually is- walking on water is a normal thing for this son of Poseidon.

As the wave approaches the other side of the basin, a rumble echoes through the tavern.

“What the-”

The wave crashes, and with a splash, you and Taehyung tumble into the water below. The serene water basin transforms into tumultuous currents, hurling you against its surface as you cry for air.

Panicked, you thrash about in the water, desperately trying to stay afloat.

You hate water. If you were Greek, you'd have no doubt that water would be your Achilles' heel. Arguably, you were good at everything else- having a keen sense of strategy, arguably great sword fighting skills- but water is just something you could never conquer.

Physically, your lungs burn as they strain for oxygen. Your limbs are heavy and sluggish as you struggle against the water’s resistance and every movement becomes a battle against the suffocating pressure.

“Taehyung!” you scream, thrashing against the water as you strain for air.

"It's okay, I've got you," he reassures, his voice calm yet firm above the sound of rushing water. "Just hold onto me."

He appears beside you and you cling onto him as he uses his mind to calm the currents, gently treading to the other side. You hyperventilate intensely, squeezing your eyes shut while you hold onto him- convincing yourself that everything would be okay.

He makes it to the other side of the basin, willing the water to lift you onto the ground before he jumps on the surface.

You sit on the gravel- clothes wet, body trembling as you catch your breath and attempt to calm yourself from drowning.

Rose sits beside you and places a comforting hand on your shoulder, before she full on embraces you. “Gods Y/N, are you alright?” She turns towards Taehyung, “Tae- what the fuck was that? Did you do that on purpose?”

You look up, and Taehyung’s expression looks rigidly serious. “That hasn’t happened to me in like ten years,” he mumbles. He looks around the tunnel apprehensively, “I have no clue.”

Another thing you note is that Taehyung is completely dry. After being submerged under waves and currents, he appears like he’s ready to go for a leisure stroll in the park.

Namjoon finishes his swim from the other side and climbs onto the ground. “Maybe you got nervous,” he shrugs, ringing the water from his socks.

“Nervous from what?” Taehyung retorts, “Nervous because of the Tribunal Prostate-us?,” he mocks, pointing at you with his thumb, “Yea, definitely not.”

“Taehyung!” Rose scolds.

You gawk- there was no absolute no way he just referred to you as a prostate. “I’m the Tribunus Laticlavus,” you clarify through gritted teeth.

“Well, princess- that doesn’t sound any cooler,” Taehyung retorts. “A thank you for saving your life would suffice. Thank you very much.”

You’re fuming from your ears. “Your father is the literal god of the Sea and you couldn’t control a ten foot wave across still waters. It would have been your fault if anything happened to me!”

“I said I don’t know what happened! You Romans probably did something to manipulate the water!”

“I didn’t even know that we had a random swimming pool in here! How would I do that?” you reason.

“Then don’t expect me to know everything either,” Taehyung responds with a roll of his eyes, “Now lead the way princess. We need that eagle.” And with that he dramatically marches past- he might as well have flipped his hair in your face.

Rose gives you an empathetic look, mouthing Sorry Y/N.

After supplying the Greeks with weapons necessary to survive a plummet in Tartarus, you reconvene with Mina and Mingyu at the Praetorium.

Mina scans her finger before the ten of you enter the elevator, and the elevator descends swiftly to a secret underground location that you’ve only frequented once before.

Mina guides your group to a secret underground pit- a pit that leads straight to Tartarus.

Jungkook and (OC) stand at the edge of the pit, their expressions resolute despite the gravity of the situation. The darkness of Tartarus yawns below them, an abyss that seems to swallow all light and hope.

(OC) takes a deep breath, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She casts a fleeting glance at Jungkook, her eyes filled with determination. "We can do this," she murmurs, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart

Jungkook nods in agreement, his jaw set with determination. "Together," he affirms, his voice carrying a note of reassurance.

With a shared nod, they step forward, their bodies silhouetted against the inky darkness below. For a moment, they stand on the precipice, their resolve steeling them against the fear that threatens to consume them.

And then, without hesitation, they leap into the void, their figures disappearing into the blackness of Tartarus.

You exhale shakily- and you can’t help but wonder if you just played a part in sending two innocent people to their doom.

As they vanish from sight, a heavy silence descends upon the onlookers, the weight of their sacrifice hanging in the air like a shroud.

For a long moment, no one speaks, each lost in their own thoughts and emotions.

Then, Mingyu breaks the silence, his voice low but firm. "They've made their sacrifice," he says, his words echoing in the stillness of the underground chamber. "Now it's up to us to honor it."

With a solemn nod, Mina steps forward, her gaze unwavering. "Agreed," she says, her voice carrying the weight of command. "Let us return to Camp Jupiter and prepare for what lies ahead. Tartarus may have claimed its toll, but we will not falter in our duty to protect our home."

Taehyung fights the urge to roll his eyes, “How heroic,” he unemotionally states, gesticulating mockingly. “You just banished your two friends to Tartarus- how does that make you feel?” he challenges, glaring spathas into Mina and Mingyu.

“Bro,” Mingyu starts, switching his Praetor off and his Mingyu mode on.

“Don’t bro me,” Taehyung retorts, before redirecting his attention towards Mina.

“When you went to Korea three years ago,” he begins, “Who took you out to Michelin meals? Who rented out a place for you to stay? Jungkook did. And (OC)- (OC) is your friend. I still don’t get how you could just sacrifice them in good faith.”

Mina shifts uncomfortably. “Look. The decision wasn’t easy to make. If you care so much, why don’t you jump in after them?”

The silence that follows is oppressive.

“You bitch!” Rose seethes, tackling Mina towards the edge of the cliff before she holds up her spatha in Mina’s face.

Mina doesn’t resist, her features morphing into insanity, as if imploring Rose to do it.

Rose pushes Mina’s body closer to the edge of the pit, to the point where Mina’s head hangs above the pit. “Do it! Push me in! See where it gets Camp Half-Blood!” she growls.

You almost fall to your knees. You deplore Mina’s words. Rose holds her spatha closer to Mina’s cheek, almost drawing blood from her face.

The structure of the underground room begins to crumble, and debris of gravel begins to rain down on you.

As your eyes fall upon Mina, a wave of unease washes over you. The woman standing before you bears little resemblance to the Mina you once knew. Her features are now twisted with a manic intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

The light in her eyes, once a steady foundation of Roman principles, burns with an unsettling hue, almost as if they are fueled by a fire of madness.

It's as if a shadow has fallen over her soul, casting her in a dark and unfamiliar light. The Mina you know would never be so cruel, so callous in her actions. She was always fair, always just, guided by the principles of honor and duty that define the Roman Legion.

But now, her words cut like knives, her actions driven by a ruthless determination that borders on fanaticism. She seems blind to reason, deaf to the voices of those who would counsel restraint and compassion. This isn't the direction the Roman Legion should take, you realize. This isn't what the gods want for Rome.

You glance an apologetic look towards Mingyu before you run to Rose and tug on her arm, urging her to stand. You intertwine your fingers and run to Namjoon and Taehyung.

“Mom!” you scream into the atmosphere, “Mom, if you hear me, take us to Camp Half-Blood! Mom! Please! I never ask for anything! Please!”

The room begins to tremble even further, like an earthquake shaking the foundation of the rooms. The Romanesque pillars begin to tremble and you hear Mina scream “Y/N! If you leave, I will revoke your position in the Roman Legion!”

You look around at yours and the Greek’s arms, and realize that you’re all turning translucent.

Your mom heard your wish.

"I resign!" you exclaim, and with a sudden burst of energy, you, Rose, Namjoon, and Taehyung are transported into the heart of Camp Half-Blood.

As you glance around, you find yourself amidst the cluster of cabins, with a warm hearth the only light illuminating the pitch black sky. The cabins of Athena, Apollo, Ares, and Hephaestus stand tall around you, each emanating a unique aura.

You fall to your knees.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung begins, “What just happened?

The Big House in Camp Half-Blood, with its grand columns and welcoming interior, serves as the central hub for meetings and discussions among the camp's staff and campers, and that is exactly where you meet with Taehyung, Namjoon, Rose, and Chiron the Camp Activities Director.

Chiron is a centaur, meaning that he’s a horse from the waist down and a human from the waist up.

After explaining the situation at hand, Chiron’s expression becomes clouded with empathy.

“That was a very brave thing you did, Y/N,” he expresses. He redirects his attention towards Taehyung, Rose, and Namjoon.

“Kids,” he begins, though the lot can hardly be considered children, “I think Y/N deserves to know. Why don’t you tell her?”

You sharply turn your gaze towards the trio, only to find them whistling nonchalantly as if feigning ignorance. Rose idly twirls a strand of her hair, while Taehyung casually tucks his hands into his pockets.

Namjoon sighs. “That wasn’t Jungkook or (OC) who jumped into Tartarus. It was other demigods that Rose disguised with the Mist.”

“What?” you express shakily.

“The Mist, Y/N,” Rose explains, “Remember how we snuck into the Emperor’s chambers by disguising ourselves as servants with magic? The Greeks call it the Mist, so I disguised Jungkook and (OC’s) little siblings as the Mist to evade capture.”

Taehyung frowns. “Wait, why’d you guys sneak into the Emperor’s chambers-”

You sigh. You aren’t even surprised. The Greeks would never willingly sacrifice their strongest demigods so easily. “So is that why they weren’t saying anything… why you were the ‘spokesperson’?” you ask Taehyung to which he flashes you with a wink.

His mood seems as unpredictable as the shifting waves of the ocean.

But it doesn’t make sense.

“The other demigods you disguised,” you begin, “Wouldn’t they be in equal danger? Jungkook and (OC) have the best chances of surviving Tartarus, so didn’t you just send the others to their doom?”

Namjoon tsks, “Don’t underestimate the Greeks. The kids we sent are just as capable.”

“Kids?” you repeat, before shoving your face into your hands.

What have you done? You should have challenged Mina more aggressively. You might have just condemned two innocent kids to their doom.

“Mina,” you begin, “I think- I think she’s possessed,” you finally elicit, backtracking from the original topic because you can’t fathom what you just witnessed.

“Possessed?” Chiron asks, brows furrowing in pure concern.

“Possessed,” you confirm, “The way she was acting- it just wasn’t her. I have no idea who was in that room with us but it wasn’t her.”

Rose’s expression morphs into one of empathy. “Y/N,” she begins, “Mina isn’t the same girl we grew up with. She’s changed. She’s not possessed, she’s just grown into a bitch. A bitch who somehow has the power of the entire Roman Legion at her fingertips.”

Taehyung bites his lip in contemplation. “She did look a little… insane,” he acknowledges.

“That’s because she is insane!” Rose retorts, “Ever since (OC) came back to life with the Physician’s Cure, she’s turned into a power-hungry, batshit psycho!”

Namjoon exhales, “Look, we can definitely consider that as a possibility, but for now let’s get some rest.”He shoots you an empathetic look, “I’m sure Y/N is tired. We can all reconvene tomorrow morning with Jungkook and (OC).”

You shake your head, though it’s apparent you’re fighting back a yawn. “It’s fine. We have a lot of things we need to figure out. I can still go at it if you guys can.”

“Oh don’t act all tough. You did have a long day, Ex Tribunal Prostate-us,” Taehyung starts.

You shoot him a deadly glare.

“You can stay in the Poseidon cabin with me. There’s no one in there besides me so we have plenty of space,” Taehyung offers, shrugging. “We’ve got a huge pool on the roof. I can even teach you how to swim, y’know, help you overcome your fear of water.”

“Wait,” Namjoon intervenes, “Why would she stay in the Poseidon cabin?”

“Why not?” Taehyung responds, eliciting a suspicious glance from Rose.

“Y/N is technically my sister,” Namjoon reasons, furrowing his brows at Taehyung, “She should stay with me.”

“Oh,” is all Taehyung can conjure.

And Namjoon has a point. Why in Mount Olympus would you ever stay in the Poseidon cabin? You never really considered Namjoon a blood relative, but he is the son of your mother’s Greek form Athena, so technically he is your brother.

“Though it would be most appropriate for Y/N to stay in the Athena cabin,” Chiron instructs, “She is an adult and can decide to stay where she pleases.”

“You could stay with me too,” Rose offers, “But I’m not about to gladiator-fight for a chance to spend the night with you like this one is,” she teases, tilting her head at Taehyung.

Taehyung seems very offended at that, expression morphing into disgust as he crosses his arms in indignation. He scoffs. “Gods forbid I show hospitality to a guest,”

A teasing smile graces Namjoon’s lips. “Why’re you getting so offended? You were just at her throat hours ago,” Namjoon points out to which Rose nods. “Yea, you were being an ass, Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenches, and he directs his attention towards you. “Do you want to stay with me or not?”

You blink at him before meeting eyes with Rose.

“Yea, why not?”

On your way to the Poseidon cabin, Rose runs towards you and squeals, almost knocking you over. “Y/N, are you going to fuck him?”

What is it with this girl and assuming her friends are going to fuck everyone?

“What is wrong with you?” you retort, nudging her with your shoulder,

Rose rolls her eyes, “Yea, sure. Don’t think I can’t sense the sexual tension between you two,” she elicits.

“What in Minerva’s name are you on about?” you counter.

“Y/N, he literally wants you so bad! I’ve never seen anybody act like this before- why else would he insist for you to spend the night with him?”

“Maybe because he pities me so much that he feels the need to interject himself into my life to teach me how to swim?”

Rose's eyes narrow, disbelief evident in her expression as she listens to your response. She lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head in frustration.

"Y/N, come on," she urges, her voice tinged with incredulity. "You really think it's just about swimming? Taehyung is practically throwing himself at you."

You scoff, feeling a flush of irritation rising within you. "Oh please, Rose. That's absurd. We're just… acquaintances. Besides, Taehyung is..." You pause, searching for the right words. "Well, he's Taehyung."

Rose raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Exactly. He's Taehyung. And trust me, I know the signs. The way he looks at you, the things he says, it's all there."

You shake your head, “Even if those are his intentions- they’re not mine. I think Taehyung was sent by my mother- as a way to help me overcome my fear of water,” you explain, “I’ve never told anyone but when I was younger I had a dream. I had a dream where I was drowning and some boy saved me. I never understood why my mom sent me that dream but I think he’s the key- the key to helping me overcome my Achilles’ Heel.”

Rose pauses, toying with her lip in contemplation. “Look, I was gonna say something funny like you’re just trying to sleep with him, but I’m happy for you. If you really feel like your mom is calling you to do this, then you should do it.”

With that, she embraces you, and you soften in her embrace. “Maybe also because he’s cute.”

A scandalous gasp leaves her lips, “Y/N!”

On cue, Taehyung appears from behind. “Poseidon cabin’s the opposite direction from the Apollo cabin,” he explains, tilting his head in the direction of his cabin. “Follow me this way.”

Without even asking, he takes the guest backpack Chiron gifted you, containing toiletries and clothing, before he strides up the hill, leaving you to follow in his stead.

You give Rose one last fleeting look who mouths Use Protection!1!

The Poseidon cabin stands as a marvel of innovation (courtesy to the Hephaestus cabin) and aquatic wonder within Camp Half-Blood.

The door frame is fashioned entirely from polished seashells arranged in intricate patterns. Stepping through the doorway, you are greeted by a spacious interior that echoes the vastness of the ocean itself.

In the living room of the Poseidon cabin, a large flat-screen TV stands against one wall, surrounded by plush seating and adorned with nautical-themed decor. There’s a stuffed hippocampus on the blue couch and the walls are painted in soothing shades of blue and green.

“We have lots of rooms. You can choose one out of the ten,” Taehyung shoots you a hospitable smile and you can’t help but laugh.

The hallway in the Poseidon cabin is calm and decorated with ocean themes and soft lights shine on the polished wooden floors.

Pictures of the sea and mythical creatures decorate the walls. There’s a selfie of a few hippocampi with Taehyung’s face in the corner throwing up a peace sign. THere’s another with Taehyung sitting on a rock with like ten mermaids laid around him, and there’s another with Taehyung in swim shorts with who you assume to be a Nereid or Sea Nymph in a bikini.

Each door is marked with a unique symbol representing the occupant's connection to the sea, whether it be a trident, a seashell, or a cresting wave. Perhaps the symbols are chosen randomly, as Taehyung is the only resident in the cabin.

But Taehyung’s symbol- his symbol scares you somewhat. The symbol on his door is a roaring kraken. Krakens are legendary sea monsters, often described as a giant cephalopod resembling a giant octopus or squid.

He throws open all the doors, allowing you to peek around to choose your room of residence for the night.

He grins at you, “You think this is nice? You should see the Hephaestus cabin. There’s like ten stories in there.”

“I like it here,” you offer sweetly, “I’ll take the seashell room.”

“All yours,” Taehyung shrugs, “I’ll take you to the pool in like ten minutes once you’ve gotten settled in.” With that, he sends you one last smile before sauntering off to your room.

You exhale deeply as you take a seat on the bed. With your palms on your thighs, you rewind everything that happened today like a broken record.

All your years of working your way up the ranks of the Roman Legion- it was all for nothing. With Mina’s control over the Legion, you’re sure you’ll be trespassed if you ever decided to step back into Camp Jupiter.

You shake your head at the thought, opening the guest bag Chiron gave you.

There’s three fresh Camp Half-Blood T-shirts, a fresh pack of underwear, three pairs of jeans, and a bag of toiletries.

No bra.

“Taehyung, do you guys have a washing machine?” you call out, and when he appears in the doorway with a toothbrush in his mouth, all he does is shake his head.

“But I can wash whatever you want for you,” he offers with a froth of toothpaste around his mouth.

“Okay give me a second,” you say.

He nods and closes the door, allowing you to do your thing. You step out of your clothes and throw on the Camp Half-Blood T-Shirt, underwear, and shorts. All are a little oversized on you, but it works.

You walk to the door and open it, handing Taehyung a pile of clothes. He looks fresh. No more toothbrush in his mouth and his face is freshly washed. He walks over to the bathroom and places your clothes in the sink. “Watch this.”

With precision, he manipulates the water into a swirling vortex, effectively creating a makeshift washing machine.

“Put your clothes in there,” he directs. You tiptoe around him, plucking up your clothes and throwing it into the vortex, careful to not directly touch the water.

“Okay now pour some detergent in here,” he says, “It’s in the cabinet under the sink.”

You crouch under the vortex, opening the cabinet doors. “Okay, don’t get me wet.”

“I’ll try,” he responds.

Suddenly, Rose’s patronizing face appears in your mind, and you pause, stifling back a laugh.

“Hurry up, princess. We don’t have all day.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and pour the detergent into the swirling vortex.

With a deft flick of his wrist, Taehyung adjusts the flow of water within the vortex, ensuring the detergent mixes thoroughly with the clothes.

Once satisfied with the washing process, Taehyung gradually slows the vortex, allowing the soapy water to drain away while leaving the clothes damp but not dripping wet.

With another subtle gesture, he manipulates the surrounding air currents, generating a gentle breeze that wafts through the room, aiding in the drying process.

As the clothes hang suspended in mid-air, supported by invisible currents, Taehyung watches attentively, adjusting the airflow as needed to ensure even drying.

With a satisfied nod, Taehyung releases his hold on the air currents, allowing the clothes to settle onto a nearby drying rack. He turns to you with a grin, his aquamarine eyes sparkling with amusement.

"There you go, all done," he declares, gesturing towards the freshly washed and dried clothes. "See, who needs a washing machine when you've got a son of Poseidon?"

You smile with tight lips. “Thank you, Tae.”

He shrugs. “No problem. Wanna go for a swim now? You look cute in that shirt.”

You don’t know how an innocent swim lesson turned into a hot makeout session in the rooftop pool, but somehow it did.

Your legs are wrapped around his waist, and he whispers into your lips, “Hmmm.. didn’t know a high ranking officer of the Roman Legion could loosen up like this.”

You playfully roll your eyes and draw your lips back to his like a magnetic pull. His tongue explores your mouth, groaning into your lips as his hands sneakily move down to your ass, shamelessly grabbing a handful of your butt past the oversized Camp Half-Blood T-shirt.

He flutters his eyes open, watching your every expression as you moan and grind against his abs.

Gods, are you so undeniably gorgeous. Taehyung never thought he would become so enamored with a daughter of Minerva, and a Roman at that, but he so obsessively asked you to stay at his under the guise of teaching you how to swim.

Yea, right.

You clearly didn’t give a fuck about swimming and who cares if he’ll be there to save you from drowning anyways?

Your orange T-shirt is sopping wet, and Taehyung lifts its bottom hem, meeting eyes with you for permission.

You remove your arms from around his neck, ensuring that your fingertips trace over his abs in the process, and he lifts the wet shirt off your body and throws it onto the gravel poolside.

He gulps with your body fully exposed to him. Your bare chest perks up against the cold atmosphere, and Taehyung has to restrain himself from taking you fully right then and there. Your hair is wet, falling against your back, and his eyes look at you with such clarity.

He thinks it’s particularly special that he has you in his own domain: water. Energy surges through his veins, and he feels especially strong and eager with the water splashing against his body.

You look so beautiful under the moonlight, like a celestial goddess descended from the heavens above. Every shimmering reflection in the water only adds to your ethereal glow, and in this moment, he can't help but feel like the luckiest person alive to have you here with him.

Gods, he thought you were such a pretentious princess when he first met you. A pretty, pretentious, princess- at that. But it only took a matter of hours for him to realize that you’re so much more. You're not just a princess; you're a warrior, a survivor, and a force to be reckoned with.

Before you know it, your lips meet in a heated kiss, fueled by a potent mixture of desire and longing. The rush of adrenaline courses through your veins as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of Taehyung's lips moving against yours, each touch igniting a fiery passion within you.

You pull back. “‘m cold,” you cutely mumble against his neck as you suck a kiss against his skin.

You’re cold? Taehyung thinks he would burn the whole world just to warm you up.

“Sorry about that,” Taehyung grins, carrying you to the poolside before allowing you to sit on the ledge.

You shiver uncontrollably as the cool night air kisses your bare skin, sending goosebumps cascading down your arms and spine.

Sensing your discomfort, Taehyung leaps gracefully from the pool, his movements fluid and agile, and swiftly retrieves a plush towel to cocoon you in its warmth.

Leaning close, he offers you a reassuring smile, his eyes filled with genuine concern as he guides you out of the pool area and down the stairs, each step feeling like a small victory against the biting cold.

Once you reach the hallways, the towel drops, and you end the night in the room with the emblem of a kraken on its door.

The next morning, you wake up and are met with a sleepy Taehyung dozing off beside you.

You inhale, immediately running into the seashell room before you quickly change into an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt and jeans.

You sneak out of the Poseidon cabin and run to the Big House, where you’re met with Rose and Namjoon who are ready to discuss plans.

Rose hands you an orange and you accept it willingly, starting to peel it with your fingertips.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Namjoon asks, to which you just shrug.

“No clue. We went our separate ways after showing me to my room,” you respond, eyes flickering towards Rose who scrutinizes you with an intense look of suspicion. She approaches you and leans over your shoulder. “You should hide the hickey, girl.”

You whip around, feigning ignorance. “What hickey? Huh?”

Rose facepalms. “Just- just- nothing.”

On cue Taehyung walks into the Big House, taking a seat by you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he leans into your shoulder. “Hey, why didn’t you wake me up?” he whispers into your neck, to which you dramatically jerk away.

Taehyung eyes you with a confused look before inching closer.

You look at Rose and Namjoon, who are looking at you weirdly and you can’t help but shoot up, dragging him outside.

“What are you doing?” you whisper yell at him.

“What?” Taehyung releases, “I just thought, y’know, after last night that we…” He rubs the nape of his neck sheepishly.

“No,” you immediately clarify, your voice as stern as ever. “No. That was a one time thing- a stress reliever, a one night stand- whatever you want to call it. We have more important things to worry about now- like how Tartarus wants to kill us all, so get your shit together!”

With that, you leave a dumbfounded Taehyung outside and stomp back into the Big House.

Rose and Namjoon don’t need to ask anything- they might have even heard your conversation from inside but nothing needs to be said.

You hooked up with him, and that was nice, But now, as you come back to your senses, you realize that it was just that - a moment.

It was nice, perhaps even enjoyable, but it doesn't change the reality of your situation. You're not looking for anything serious- there are bigger things to worry about.

Taehyung walks back in, extremely irritable as he takes the seat farthest away from you.

“Oh gods,” Namjoon mumbles.

In a sudden and unexpected moment, the atmosphere shifts, and before you can fully comprehend what's happening, the air crackles with energy. Like a bolt of lightning illuminating the darkness, the oracle materializes before you, its presence both awe-inspiring and chilling.

With eyes glowing an intense shade of green, the oracle's ethereal form seems to pulse with otherworldly power. You feel a sense of unease creeping over you as its voice resonates through the air, echoing with a mystical resonance that sends shivers down your spine.

“In the tumult of tides, destinies entwine,

One born of sea, one of the wise divine.

Amidst the depths where fears reside,

Unity sought, their fears defied.

In the clash of Greeks and Romans, a call resounds,

Together they stand, where unity abounds.

Through waters deep, their fears they'll tame,

In shared resolve, they'll forge their claim”

Oh gods.

#taehyung scenarios #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #demigod!taehyung #demigod!bts #demigod!jungkook

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turquoisephoenix · 2 months

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Master Eon Versus the Town-Devouring Ghoul

A Skylanders one shot

Ghost Roaster becoming a Skylander Origin Story.

Several decades before the destruction of the Core of Light and the banishment of the Skylanders, Master Eon and Hex are called upon by one of the rulers of the Underworld to journey to the Land of the Undead and fight one of the most dangerous undead creatures - a ghost-devouring ghoul. Can he and his witch companion conquer this dastardly foe, or is Skylands’ most powerful Portal Master about to meet his match?

This story takes place several decades before the events of the first game, so Master Eon is still alive. Count Moneybone also isn't considered an evil villain yet. He's on his best behavior, don't worry.

Characters: Master Eon, Hex, Ghost Roaster, Count Moneybone

Content Warning: Minor body horror.

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Out of all the wonderful locations in the infinite realm of Skylands, one of Master Eon's most treasured places was his garden. He was picturing his idyllic retreat right now, remembering its many abundances of colorful fruits and vegetables. The ripe strawberries, juicy tomatoes, and fragrant herbs, the rows of vibrant sunflowers swaying gently in the warm breeze, and the butterflies flitting from blossom to blossom all entered his mind and he smiled. Yes, he could even hear the bees buzzing, their gentle hum harmonizing with the gentle stream trickling through the field. His garden was a symphony of Skyland's endless bounty and a peaceful retreat whenever his Portal Master duties got a little too stressful.

A femur bone struck the wall inches from his head and Eon's smile instantly vanished. He certainly wished he was in his garden right now.

Instead of spending this lovely spring morning knee-deep in loam and tending to baby trees, Master Eon had been summoned on Portal Master duty by his old friend Count Moneybone to deal with, in Moneybone's words, "a horrible creature the likes of which have been unseen in hundreds of years." So now both he and Hex, his chosen partner for his journey through the Land of the Undead, were standing in the hallowed halls of Count Moneybone's Villa, waiting for an audience.

The problem was, so was every elected official that answered to Count Moneybone's district, and some of the Undead had the tendency to be rowdy.

Both Master Eon and Hex stood unmoving and unwavering in the doorway of Count Moneybone's mansion study as they waited for the right time to make an entrance. They watched, brows furrowed and lips pursed in unison, as a crowd of undead mayors, barons, and councilmen yelled at each other in a horrid cacophony of noise. Master Eon was the only creature within the vicinity with a pulse, and yet he was far less animated than the legions of rotted corpses in front of him as decayed limbs gestured at a map on a large dining table, at the air, or at the unlucky owner of the manor.

Despite the writhing mass of gleaming bones and putrid flesh all fighting for attention, and despite his less-than-remarkable stature (Moneybone would object to the word "short"), Count Moneybone was still easy to pick out in the crowd. Unlike the ragged robes or the ghastly cloaks befitting most Undead - even the ones that held a position of office - Moneybone liked elaborate purple cloaks, fancy purple gloves, and flashy golden armor. Under the highly expensive chandelier dangling above his head, Moneybone practically gleamed like a spotlight.

Which, unfortunately for him, made him an incredibly easy target in this high stress situation. Even from the other side of the room, Master Eon could tell that his old friend was highly stressed out from the constant complaints. With a drooping mustache and a rapidly moving golden eye, Moneybone was fidgeting in place and was alternating between a customer service smile/grimace and quick flashes of temper depending on what was being said in his direction, and he was finding success with neither approach.

He was in the middle of yelling at a smartly-dressed skeleton of a lizardman when his eyes spotted Master Eon and he immediately grabbed for that lifeline. Moneybone straightened up, put on his most charming smile, and assumed an extremely regal, composed tone of voice that he often practiced in front of the mirror.

"Ah, Master Eon and Mistress Hex, I do hope your trip to the Land of the Undead went w-"

Count Moneybone immediately realized that he had made a mistake. His efforts were dashed as the crowd of terrified undead noticed that he was talking to fresh blood and turned its attention to Master Eon and Hex. Moneybone gave an indignant yelp as the crowd unceremoniously shoved him aside. Skeletons, ghosts, and zombies began to plead pitieously.

"DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE GHOUL!" screamed a floating skull wearing a top hat.

"Yes, we're getting to that-" Moneybone tried to interject, but he was outnumbered.

"A GHOUL! A GHOOOOOUL!"

"WHO WILL FALL NEXT TO ITS INSATIABLE HUNGER? HOW MANY MORE TOWNS MUST FALL!?"

"SAVE US, MASTER EON!"

"TURN THE GHOUL TO STONE, HEX!"

"ENOUGH!"

A ball of crackling green magic formed in Count Moneybone's right palm, and with a swift, fluid motion, he thrust his hand into the air. There was a crackle of lightning, a powerful hum of necromantic energy that smothered all sound in its wake, the harsh smell of ozone, and then the crowd instantly fell silent.

The rest of the undead stood frozen in place, eyes wide in terror, as they stared at Count Moneybone. Arcs of green magic still raced up and down his arm as he glared at the crowd, reminding them that the last hour or so of him tolerating their complaints was actually an act of mercy and patience from their benevolent leader.

"Let Master Eon speak!" Count Moneybone ordered. Everyone in the room was more than happy to oblige.

Master Eon, now feeling every eye on him, quickly moved through the room. The atmosphere was so quiet that the rustle of his blue robes sounded deafening as he shuffled across the carpet until he was face-to-face with Count Moneybone, who was now casually rolling a spark of necromantic energy between two fingers. Eon frowned as he looked at the giant, hand-drawn map on the table. Included with the map was a drawing of the ghoul. Eon picked it up and studied it.

"From what I can gather, we've been called upon to deal with...a ghoul? I must admit, I'm not familiar with ghouls. Are they rare?"

"They're exceptionally rare monsters, yes. And damned powerful too." Count Moneybone said, the other members of the undead in the room hanging on his every word. "Ghouls are not natural creatures. Usually, as the stories go, an evil necromancer living in a castle made out of bone will capture some unlucky villagers, horrifically transform them into ghouls and thus cursing them with an eternal hunger, and send them rampaging through the countryside as they devour everything in their path. Awful creatures, really."

Master Eon nodded. He was not at all surprised that Count Moneybone of all people would know about a rare creature created by awful necromancy gone bad. Although he wasn't doing the best job at hiding it - Eon was eyeing the magic still crackling off of Moneybone's hand - it was a well-kept secret that Count Moneybone used to be a necromancer back when he was alive. As far as Eon knew, Moneybone never created any ghouls. Moneybone was more of "reanimate the bones and sinew from his wife's pig farm in wacky experiments or resurrect the corpses of his pets" kind of necromancer before his untimely death.

"And what makes them different from, say, an army of trolls or an army of dragons?" Master Eon asked carefully, his gaze still on the ghoul drawing. He could instantly recognize Count Moneybone's art style. The creature was very serpentine, with a snake-like tail in place of legs and a skull-like head lined with razor sharp teeth, piercing yellow eyes, and four pointy head spikes. The ghoul was depicted in the drawing wearing a black suit with a striking red collar that rose behind its head like the hood of a cobra. The drawing made sure to draw the ghoul's bony arms held outward like it was roaring in anger.

Eon made note of the clothes. Non-sentient creatures didn't wear clothes. Creatures that wore clothes could be reasoned with...

Count Moneybone continued, tugging at one end of his mustache. "You know how, when a dragon eats someone, they don't eat the ghost part of the person, and you usually get a very crispy spirit asking for residence in the Land of the Undead? Ghouls can eat ghosts. They're eternally hungry apex predators that can send anyone alive or dead to the afterlife, and a lot of my constituents want to remain uneaten and in this current life as they work through their unfinished business, thank you very much!"

The crowd of undead upperclassmen started to murmur words of agreement before being silenced by a glare from Count Moneybone.

The gears were turning in Master Eon's head. So a ghoul's power was its hunger. He could work with that.

"Give me a timeline of this ghoul. When did they first appear, and where can I find them." Master Eon pressed on. If he felt any strong emotions about being asked to face a creature that could instantly send him to the next plane of existence by eating him, his voice did not reveal it. Hex was even calmer than him as she stood next to him, her face completely serene and unreadable.

Count Moneybone sighed and pinched his forehead. He was desperately fighting off the beginnings of a stress headache, despite not having any of the flesh to get a headache.

"About a month ago, this ghoul randomly materialized near the ghost town of Ribcage, where it immediately and swiftly devoured the entire population of ghosts. I of course acted quickly and had sent the mayor of Ribcage and a scouting party to kill the ghoul, but instead of doing what they were told, they trapped it, attached a ball and chain to it for reasons unknown, and let it roam free-"

The fashionable lizardman skeleton from earlier cut in, and it was immediately obvious from the way he grinded his teeth and gestured with his hands that they had suffered this conversation multiple times before.

"For the last time, I put the ball and chain on the ghoul because the best way to kill a ghoul is to root it in place and starve it to death!" The Mayor of Ribcage said this in an irritated snarl.

"Oh? And how heavy was the ball and chain?" sneered Count Moneybone.

"About fifteen pounds, give or take."

"Fifteen?! Did you want to starve the ghoul or did you want it to work on its triceps?! My mother could lift fifteen pounds! Fifteen pounds is nothing!" Count Moneybone snapped.

"Gentlemen! I believe we're getting off-topic!" Master Eon decided to cut in before things got violent. The lizardman, finger still raised in protest, then gave a quick bow and scurried away as Count Moneybone cleared his nonexistent throat.

"As I was saying, this ghoul has spent the last month haunting the surrounding area of Ribcage, eating anything it can get its horrible claws on. We still don't know how many citizens have lost their unlives and its territory has been gradually expanding as it's hunting for more food. I want you to take care of it before this problem gets out of hand! The entire Land of the Undead is at stake here!"

Sensing that the crowd of undead was still watching both his and Eon's every move, Count Moneybone then grabbed one edge of his cape with one hand and raised his other hand in the air as if reaching for heaven's light. He raised his voice in volume, going from "conversational" to "operatic".

"So what do you say? Will you help us in our time of need, Master Eon?"

Master Eon paused, weighed his options, and, feeding into the theatrics for a bit, smiled and performed a bow and scrape before Count Moneybone, flourishing his hand as he did so.

"Consider it done!"

And with those words, Master Eon and Hex left the room to the sound of rapturous cheers and applause. -----------------------

After quickly and reluctantly discussing the matter of Master Eon's payment with his new employer away from the crowd ("I have no need for gold coins." "Eon, you are not doing this job for free. If you won't take money, will you at least take a rare book from my collection?" "If you insist."), Master Eon and Hex left Count Moneybone's Villa and set off towards the town of Ribcage. Master Eon, with his long grey beard and sky blue robes making a stark contrast to Hex's midnight black, merrily trudged through the desolate land of the undead with his silent witch companion by his side.

The air was thick with the stench of decay, and eerie moans echoed through the twisted trees that seemed to reach out with skeletal fingers, but Eon's mood remained cheery. Despite missing his garden earlier in the hustle and bustle of Count Moneybone's crowded study, he had to admit, it has been quite a while since he was asked to do a more traditional "Slay Thy Monster" quest. It felt nostalgic in a way. The Portal Master and his companion pressed on, their determination unwavering, for they had a quest to fulfill!

Hex did not share his enthusiasm. She quietly floated beside him, her face still passive and unreadable, as she exuded an aura of immense power. Her eyes glowed with a faint white light that pierced through the fog that permeated the land of the undead. She was always on high alert and she refused to waste more than a single word on such frivolities as "nice day we're having, Hex" and "it's been a while since you've last traveled to the Land of the Undead, Hex."

Master Eon had, of course, brought his trusty magic staff with him on his adventure. It crackled with energy as he used it as a walking aide. In addition, he also shouldered his enchanted satchel. Made of dark brown leather and decorated with a single red jewel, it looked like a regular, unassuming traveler's satchel, but it was enchanted to hold so much more than it seemed. Why, if it fell into a lake, it would easily swallow the entire body of water without changing size or weight. No self-respecting Portal Master went unprepared, after all!

Today, however, his satchel contained no pilfered sea. Instead, he had packed his magical antique ladle (for making magical antique soup), a thermos that was currently holding a frightening amount of ectoplasm soup, more ingredients for soup in case Eon ran out of soup, various notes on the monster that they would soon face, and a map that would lead them to their destination (that now smelled faintly of soup).

It didn't take much travel time to enter Ribcage. Like most villages in the Land of the Undead, Ribcage lay in ruins, its buildings crumbling and decaying from years of neglect. But the unnatural stillness - the lack of unlife in the vicinity, the complete absence of friendly ghosts or zombies happily forming a community through broken boards and windows - was what made Ribcage feel particularly unwelcoming. The streets were littered with debris and overturned carts, evidence of the chaos that had ensued when the entire population was devoured. Clawmarks were gouged deep into the walls of several structures. Broken panes of glass and shattered doors lay on the ground.

Neither Eon nor Hex said a word as they searched the abandoned village for their monster. They could see that Moneybone's hunch was right. There were the telltale signs of a chain dragged through the dirt, and they looked fresh. The air was thick with an oppressive stillness. Not even the usual sounds of nocturnal creatures filled the air. Even the lowliest undead cricket was terrified of a hungry ghoul.

Their search did not last that long. The ghoul's tracks led to Ribcage's largest restaurant. It was once a quaint little hangout called The Spirits' Tavern ("Where the menu is to die for and the atmosphere is positively ethereal! Four point five stars on Yelp!") and it was in the same pathetic state of existence as the rest of the town. The windows were shattered, and a crowd of overturned chairs and tables sadly lay splintered and abandoned. Despite the constant decay that surrounded them, there was also the smell of something fresh wafting through the air. Master Eon gripped his walking staff with determination. He knew that they were close. Steeling his resolve, the Portal Master pushed open the restaurant's creaking doors and held them open long enough for Hex to float in first. Master Eon always held the door open for his companions as a common courtesy, even during death-defying monster quests. Inside, the remnants of several meals lay scattered across the tables and floor. No phantom pho, spectral soufflé, or midnight macabre martini was spared. The ghoul had been feeding here; its hunger so insatiable that no scrap of food was left untouched. Hex scanned the room for any sign of movement as Eon's staff began to glow with energy, ready to strike at a moment's notice. The Portal Master and his companion moved cautiously through the restaurant and made their way from the dining room to the kitchen and food stores. Once in the kitchen, they were greeted with an odd sight. There was a large smear of food mixture sitting on the floor, still wet and freshly made, with handfuls clearly ripped out of it rather than cooked. Master Eon bent down to examine it. The Portal Master knew enough about cooking from his centuries of living in Skylands that he could tell that he was staring at one and a half cups of all-purpose flour, one cup of unsweetened natural cocoa powder, two cups of sugar, two teaspoons of baking soda, one teaspoon of baking powder, one teaspoon of salt, two teaspoons of espresso powder, half a cup of melted coconut oil, two large eggs cracked at room temperature, two teaspoons of pure vanilla extract, one cup of room temperature buttermilk, and one cup of coffee. But instead of baking this concoction into a fluffy, moist chocolate coffee cake, the creature skipped all of those other steps and gobbled up the raw cake mix with its bare hands.

"I see our ghoul knows a thing or two about cooking. They even used measuring cups." Eon said in mild amusement.

Hex didn't reply. She remained still, her entire body tense. Her head kept scanning the room, her hands raised and magic beginning to dance on her fingertips.

She could sense it. They were being watched. Inside the kitchen, next to the ruins of an uncooked cake, there were three occupants.

"Eon!" Hex cried.

The air shimmered, and a hungry, malevolent ghoul suddenly materialized in the room. The long, sinewy creature with sharp teeth and glowing yellow eyes floated in front of them, sniffed the air hungrily, and then lunged towards Hex with a loud, wordless scream, its greedy claws extended. Hex swiftly dodged the attack, her black cloak billowing behind her, as she countered with a blast of magical energy. The ghoul howled in pain as the undead magic struck it in the chest, but instead of slowing it down, it seemed to enrage the creature further.

"SKREEAAAA!!!"

The ghoul swung its spiked ball and chain attached to the end of its body wildly through the air in a giant arc, forcing both Hex and Eon to dance out of the way to avoid being struck. Ceramic bowls exploded into shards. Flour and sugar filled the air. An egg timer ricocheted off the wall.

'Fifteen pounds is enough to do a decent amount of damage...' Hex mused to herself as the creature swung around and pounced on her, teeth snapping at the air and the ball and chain clattering on the floor. She caught both of its hands in her's as fangs closed shut inches away from her face. The ghoul's breath smelled of rot, ectoplasm, and cake batter.

"Hex!" Master Eon yelled as magic burst forth from his outstretched hand. The ghoul was knocked aside and away from its prey but it immediately rose to its full height. It howled in hunger and attacked again, saliva foaming at its mouth.

In its frenzied, feral state, the ghoul didn't realize just how hopelessly overpowered its opponents were. The Soul-Devouring Terror of Ribcage was used to inexperienced members of the undead and the occasional poorly trained lackey under Count Moneybone's employment. As the ghoul lunged, Hex and Master Eon both focused their powers, casting a series of spells that sent bolts of lightning and a cascade of conjured skulls hurtling towards their monstrous opponent. Their magic blended seamlessly as the two of the most powerful sorcerers in all of Skylands worked together in perfect harmony. The creature roared in frustration as it tried to defend itself against the onslaught, but Hex and Eon were relentless.

"Immobilize them!" Master Eon commanded.

Hex nodded. With a final incantation, the sorcerer summoned a powerful wave of dark energy that summoned a prison of bone that burst forth from the ground. The creature was instantly pinned in place, its body wracked with pain as it let out a piercing wail. Its energy drained, the ghoul was rendered helpless, and it could do nothing but thrash weakly and helplessly like a dying fish on a line.

"State your business," Hex commanded the growling, pinned creature as she held a ball of crackling energy near their face.

"HISSSSSSSS!!!" answered the ghoul.

"Now now, Hex. It's hard to state your business when you're hungry." Master Eon said. Already, he was pouring some ectoplasm soup from his thermos into one of the few bowls in the kitchen that remained unbroken from the onslaught. He then kneeled next to the ghoul and gently placed the bowl in front of its face.

The monster was so hungry, so ravenous and starving, that it temporarily forgot its imprisonment once it smelled the hearty stew of ectoplasm and spirits. Greedily, it ate, its face shoved into the warm liquid like a starving dog, sending droplets of green glowing ooze flying through the air as it inhaled the food. Horrendous lip smacking noises filled the room. The contents of the bowl were gone in seconds, and the ghoul rested its head on the ground, panting from the exertion.

A second bowl slid to a gentle stop near the ghoul's face.

"Take your time; I brought plenty. I'll ask you some questions when you're feeling better." Eon said.

"Hnn..hn..wa...?"

The ghoul's expression softened a bit as the ravenous hunger subsided and higher intelligence started to flood back into the creature's brain. They coughed, ectoplasm rising from their throat, as they slowly remembered how to talk. No one has asked them to say anything in a while now.

But instead of speaking, the ghoul instead devoured the contents of a second bowl of soup. Not as greedily as the first bowl - the ghoul actually grabbed onto the bowl and tilted the liquid into its mouth this time - but still just as hungry. A third bowl of ectoplasm soup was already waiting for them before the second one was finished.

Eon and Hex patiently watched the ghoul in silence as it ate the third bowl, then the fourth bowl, and then the fifth. With each finished meal, the ghoul changed. This creature, still pinned to the ground by a fortress of bone, became less like a slobbering, feral beast in a fugue state and more like a person. When the wooden bowl clattered to the floor for the fifth time, the creature was holding their head in their hands, like the sudden onset of lucidity was causing them physical pain.

"Do you want Hex to free you so you can get more comfortable?"

"Nnn...hhh...no, I'm fff...fine...I'm fine. I'm fine. Fine."

The words were hesitant at first, like the ghoul was remembering how to talk as they went along. The ghoul also seemed unsure about their own voice. Their brow was furrowed, and they tentatively sounded out some vowels to themselves. The ghoul held out a hand in front of its face and tentatively wiggled its clawed fingers as if seeing its own body for the first time.

They didn't want to ask for freedom yet. As the ghoul regained their humanity, they remembered that they weren't supposed to be a ghoul.

Despite the ghoul's pleas, Hex, her eyes still watching the creature with her stern, emotionless look on her face, made a gentle motion with her hand and the bone prison shimmered and melted away like a fading summer's memory. The ghoul didn't move from his spot. Those piercing yellow eyes that once glared at both Eon and Hex with malevolence and hatred were now wet with unshed tears.

Master Eon leaned down and placed a hand on the ghoul's shoulder.

"Do you have a name?"

Master Eon's voice was calm, patient. Understanding.

"I should have a name..." the ghoul replied, a sob escaping from the back of their throat. They...He - he remembered that part - HE dragged a hand across his face as he lay there pitifully on his stomach. Everything felt wrong. "But I can't remember it. Can't remember much of anything..."

Eon took out his thermos and poured out another bowl of soup.

"What would you like us to call you?"

The ghoul accepted more food and pulled himself into a sitting position. Chains rattled behind him and then around him as his unnatural tail - his punishment for his monstrous acts - formed a small, tight, protective circle around his body.

"What were they calling me...?"

As Master Eon stirred the soup with his antique soup ladle, he unfolded the piece of parchment from his satchel and squinted at the various titles written on the ghoul's rap sheet. "The Soul-Devouring Terror. The Fall of Ribcage. The Ghost Gobbler. The Ghost Eater. The Ghost Roaster. The Ghost Ender. The Nightmare Beast. The Spirit Shredder-"

"I like Ghost Roaster." The ghoul said glumly, choosing the least monstrous out of the list. It was starting to dawn on him that he just tried to kill and eat Master Eon, the most famous Portal Master in all of Skylands, a couple of minutes ago. He grabbed the bowl that was handed to him and stared down at the tasty, nourishing broth.

"I remember...roasting things? Before all of this..."

Master Eon remembered the cake mixture on the ground. There was a natural talent there, he recalled. Perhaps this ghoul had a hobby in cooking?

"Ghost Roaster it is."

"This could use a little basil and maybe half a clove of garlic..." Ghost Roaster said to himself without thinking as he examined his bowl of soup, confirming Master Eon's suspicions. This was the first serving where Ghost Roaster was using a spoon, stolen from The Spirits Tavern's storage.

"What do you remember?"

Ghost Roaster gnawed lightly on the spoon and racked his brain.

"I remember..."

Then the memory struck him and the spoon fell from numbed fingers.

Hot fire. Burning. Back arching. Muscles twitching. Cry of pain. Guts rearranging. Sinew ripping, tearing, reforming into new shapes. Cry for help. Mouth forced open as teeth kept growing. Growing. Skin melting. Reshaping. Hair falling. Legs growing. Fusing. Needles of lava piercing head. Writhing. Screaming. Howling. Hunger. Starving. Famished. Hunger hunger hungry hunger hunger-

"...pain." was the only word that fell out of his mouth. He looked down at his hands again, at his claw-tipped hands made out of yellowed bone, and then looked up at Master Eon. A raw and powerful disgust enveloped his body as his chest tightened. When he asked the question now burning in his mind, his voice sounded weak. Fragile.

"Is...is there a way to change me back?"

For the first time this entire trip, Hex's face showed emotion. She - as well as Master Eon - winced as if struck as Ghost Roaster looked up at both of them with pleading eyes. When neither of them answered Ghost Roaster's question fast enough - how could they answer such a loaded question? - he tossed the bowl away from him as his emotions got the better of him.

"Answer me! There has to be, right?" Ghost Roaster yelled, his voice shaking. His trembling hands grasped at Master Eon's cloak.

"I-I'm not supposed to be like this! I was something else and-and-and but then I tripped! -and I fell a long way and now...now I'm a monster! I don't want to be stuck like this! What if I hurt anyone else!? What if-"

"I know how you feel."

Ghost Roaster's complaints died on his lips. "What...?"

Hex repeated herself.

"I know how you feel."

Hex turned her head and looked off to the distance as her voice became pained.

"Years ago, I too became a monster. I too was hunted."

Ghost Roaster gazed at her in shock. He let go of Master Eon's cloak. Master Eon gently placed a hand on Ghost Roaster's shoulder but the ghoul didn't feel it.

"I was also cursed to join the Undead against my will, long ago. I hated myself too, at first. My skin was cold, my heart was still. I was a living corpse, forever tainted by undeath. I was abandoned by the people I once protected. Hunted by the people I once protected."

Hex turned her head to look at Ghost Roaster. Their eyes met.

"I have wasted years trying to find a cure for my transformation. What I learned...is that the most common solution for an undead curse is destruction. You have been changed permanently and the sooner you make peace with that, the better."

But then, in a rare moment, Hex smiled.

"But you don't have to suffer your curse alone."

Hex held out her hand towards Ghost Roaster. Ghost Roaster, misreading her gesture and forgetting that handshakes exist, rushed over to her and instead swept her up in a hug.

Hex awkwardly floated there, arm still outstretched, constricted in a rib-bruising embrace, as the ghoul that once tried to eat her was now loudly sobbing into her shoulder. She could feel her shoulder become wet with tears.

Master Eon walked up to both of them, a warm smile playing on his lips. Hex shot Master Eon a look that screamed "do something!"

So Master Eon did the thing he was most known for.

"Have you considered joining the Skylanders, Ghost Roaster?"

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Count Moneybone sat at his mahogany desk in his office, organizing paperwork. The soft glow of the chandelier above him (for Moneybone had a chandelier in almost every room of his manor) cast a warm light on various office plants and stacks of paper from the various undead towns and provinces that surrounded him. Politics was rapidly becoming a fun pastime for him but bureaucracy also took up lots of room in his office.

'Mental note - hire a secretary,' Count Moneybone thought to himself as he sipped on a cup of tea, and that was when the door loudly burst open, sending some of his paperwork flying. Count Moneybone, his floral printed teacup still hovering near his mouth, narrowed his eyes as Master Eon triumphantly entered the room in a flurry of blue robes and greying facial hair.

"Well!?" Count Moneybone asked, mildly annoyed. "Did you take care of the ghoul?"

Someone behind Master Eon cleared his throat. A spiked ball and chain dragged itself and dug grooves across Count Moneybone's plush purple carpets as Ghost Roaster, still signing official paperwork marked with Master Eon's signature with Master Eon's favorite fountain pen, floated into the room.

"He did, yes."

Count Moneybone said nothing as his teacup fell from his hands to the floor.

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End

#Skylanders #Ghost Roaster #Count Moneybone #Master Eon #Hex (Skylanders)#Hex Skylanders #Turquoisephoenix tells a story #I haven't posted a fanfic in three years so I might be a little rusty...

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