#Banished Imp | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shiny-jr · 2 months ago

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✂ damnation [ the crow courier ]

– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Sebek Zigvolt, Silver, Lilia Vanrouge, Malleus Draconia.

– Note: Not gonna lie, I did not reread this to make sure everything transferred alright. So hopefully the whole story is here.

– Pages: 44

– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!

The Praetorian Imp | The Crow Courier

A mask. There was a mask of cold black metal settled on the upper half of your face. It was cold, smooth against your cheeks. This was new. It wasn’t some sort of blindfold, as you could see perfectly and last you heard, they never blinded their prisoners. Concealing an evil-doer’s vision during their banishment was considered a small mercy, something they wouldn’t do, and the judges wanted each sinner to see the fate that awaited them.

A supposedly horrid fate, but what sort of cruel end required you to wear a plate of armor and a warm cloak? Over your chest, your hand traced the curves and swirls on a metallic chest plate, reaching the black fabric over your shoulders and extending down your back. Removing the mask over your face and turning it in your hands to examine it, the empty eye holes of a feathered fiend stared back at you. The accessory resembled a bird, dark feathers carefully forged into the mask as the end curved into a sharpened beak. It was slightly unsettling, somewhat resembling the type of mask a plague doctor would don during the middle ages in times of peril.

On the ground, just past the mask you were staring down at, were shreds of paper which caught your attention. It looked as if something or someone had torn a sheet to shreds and disregarded them in the middle of this dark and dreary hallway. Upon kneeling down to pick up a few pieces, your eyebrows furrowed as you attempted to piece them back together like a puzzle.

Piece after piece, you managed to somewhat make out the painted image despite the face of a crowned figure being burnt black beyond recognition, but the rest of the image could somewhat be salvaged at least enough to draw a conclusion. A taller faceless crowned figure in garbs, beside a queen, holding a bundled baby in their arms that had been torn straight through. Below, on the aged paper was written text reading: Announcing the birth of the princess. A holiday is to be proclaimed throughout the entire kingdom in honor of the princess.

Why did this all seem so awfully familiar?

Slowly standing, you jumped upon hearing the rumbling start of thunder. Outside, past the window, dark storm clouds gathered in a hurry above a dense forest and towering wall of thorns. Thorns! Thorns so tall that even from afar, they looked as big as a house!

“Oh… wow.” You whisper in slight horror.

The royal family and birth of a princess, a deep dark forest, a deadly wall of thorns–– these were all part of a story. These were points of a fictional story, and yet you were here. Here, somewhere, in a corridor where the walls were dark stone bricks and a long carpet ran along the floor. How did you play into this? The bird-like mask still in your hands and staring back at you, appeared to answer that. The only bird in the story was a black-feathered one, which served as the villain’s little pet.

This couldn’t be real, could it? Why was this your punishment, of all things? How did the story go again?

A king and queen had a child, a princess, whose birth was celebrated throughout the entire kingdom. A glittering assemblage of folk from all walks of life, foreign and local, rich and poor, from royalty, nobility, gentry, and even the rabble, were invited to pay homage and revel in the festivities. However, the procession was disrupted by the arrival of an uninvited guest, the Mistress of All Evil. She was a malevolent fairy who brought a curse, promising death upon the infant princess. The princess goes into hiding with three good fairies for years, until the curse can pass, but eventually the malevolent fairy does capture both the princess and her betrothed prince. The princess falls into a death-like sleep, and the prince escapes to rescue her. In the process, the antagonist’s avian companion is turned to stone while the malevolent fairy turns into a dragon to face off against the hero in a grand battle, only to be defeated by a holy sword through the heart!

It caused you to freeze, gulping as you imagined such an end. Stone… You were to be turned to stone! Would that mean instant death, or were to become a prisoner forced to be still and silent until the very end of time or at least until your stone body crumbled to dust?

A pair of wooden doors flew open, the sudden sound as it slammed against the wall caused you to scream. That, and the appearance of an odd stranger in armor, was enough to make you believe that your end was now and sooner than expected.

“YOU!” His booming voice nearly ruptured your eardrums as he pointed an accusatory finger. Directing a rather sharp nail, almost as equally sharp as his two front canine teeth which you caught sight of but sharper was the sword sheathed at his hip.

“Me???” You looked at the intimidating stranger, baffled and uneasy.

The man clad in armor was certainly not a shining knight of goodness or a pure princess blessed by fairies. It became apparent by his pointed nails, sharp teeth, and unnaturally thin pupils that he wasn’t human. What sort of human had slicked back natural mint green hair?

“Yes, you!! Do not be so dense, human! Who else do you see in this hall?” He stomped up to you, frowning deeply, almost snarling. As he got closer, you realized he was very tall and built like a soldier. At his hip, opposite to his blade, was a mask of dark metal, resembling yours. However, his mask was crafted to resemble a crocodile. “Do not think yourself superior for even a second! You are only valued for the intel you can provide, nothing more, nothing less. Here you are, milling about uselessly while the rest of us search tirelessly for the girl! I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a mortal!”

Squinting a bit at him, it took a solid second for all those words he spoke to be processed in your mind. Another round of thunder rumbled outside, sounding closer than before. “But… I am stupid?” You smiled a bit awkwardly, watching how the stranger’s face fell with each following word. “Sorry, who are you? I think you have the––” He has the wrong person. Before you could complete that thought, thunder seemed to shake the very walls as its booming clap reverberated throughout the air.

It was loud, loud enough to startle both yourself and the uncouth bright-eyed one.

“Have you no decency? You cannot even recall your colleague’s name! It’s Sebek! Sebek! We spoke months ago before departing for the most recent search!” He replied, frustrated that you didn’t remember his name, despite not even meeting before. Was he mistaking you for someone? It’s as if you had been thrust into some sort of role, maybe that’s why he didn’t take you for an intruder.

“Okay, okay, Sebek. Got it. You don’t need to say it a third time. Please, spare my poor ears.” Raising an eyebrow, you nearly flinched every time he spoke. It’s like he had a megaphone built into his voice box, because he talked in what sounded like shouts. “Also, why are you yelling? I can hear you perfectly fine, you don’t have to be so loud.”

“Why am I…?” The weirdo, apparently called Sebek, parroted in disbelief as he ran a hand through his mint green hair. His fingers gripping his head, fingers tangled through his own locks. “Why are you still here?! General Vanrouge has requested I look for you because you were absent for an assembly called by the Master! Deliberately missing special councils called by him is deplorable on every level!” Reaching forward, he suddenly caught your arm in an iron grip as he practically dragged you through a maze of corridors until they approached the source of a commotion.

Better to allow this Sebek character to escort you than refusing and risking him having an aneurysm, you figured. Something in your gut told you to go with it, and don’t immediately bring up the fact that you weren’t who they thought you were, especially now that you had arrived in a room chock full of armed soldiers dressed in a manner similar to Sebek.

However, all these people had two striking features, slitted pupils and pointed ears. Pointed ears. Definitely not human. Yes, you were stupid, but not stupid enough to expose yourself when you were outnumbered a hundred-to-one.

“What’s all this––?”

Before you could completely round the corner, you nearly fell back into Sebek as a cloaked figure appeared out of the shadows. They hung from the ceiling, their face in front of yours. A terrifying individual, with thin locks of pitch black and blood red, and a face of a terrifying gnarling beast. “Boo!”

Wide-eyed, you stared at the figure as you leaned back into Sebek’s arms who didn’t seem as surprised as you. Was this a companion of his? The matching cloak, the similar armor, and… that face of the hanging stranger was metal. A mask. A mask that looked like some horrifying monstrous bat.

Placing a hand on your heart, you closed your eyes and fell back dramatically, playing the part. Your legs went limp, the only thing preventing your form from hitting the cold hard floor was the pair of strong arms holding you up from behind.

A snicker was the only applause for your small performance, as Sebek jostled you from your act. For some particular reason, Sebek was impatient as he forced you to your feet, but he didn’t dare raise his voice at this surprisingly short figure that somehow floated down from the ceiling like a feather drifting to the ground.

“This is an entirely serious matter! Lilia–– General, please.” Sebek pleaded, keeping you stuck in place by gripping your shoulders to keep you facing the General. What did Sebek call him earlier? Vanrouge? This was him?

This Vanrouge character was on the petite side, he hardly looked like a general with his undersized stature and thin limbs. Yet his armor fit him just fine, and on his belt was a great big cleaver that sparkled like jade. Definitely not about to cross him when he had that on his person.

Cleaver aside, it was really difficult to fear him when he removed his terrifying mask. While yes, his features were far less human than Sebek’s, he was somewhat adorable. When he laughed, you noticed small sharpened fangs while his big crimson red eyes and slitted pupils shined with mirth. Even one of his pale pointed ears appeared to twitch. “I know, I know, but can’t I enjoy one moment of laughter before everything goes to rack and ruin?”

There was no need to even ask what exactly he meant by that, because again, there was that thundering rumble that shook the very palace walls. It sounded even closer this time, like it was in just the next room over!

Vanrouge, or rather, Lilia, appeared a bit anxious, jittery as he brushed off his nerves with a quieter laugh. His own hands had gripped your shoulders as Sebek took a step back. “See, this is why you are one of my favorite humans! Mortals are so easygoing and you get my humor.”

“Thank you? And you’re my favorite…” You paused. What even was he? What were they? In some renditions, there were fairies, but sometimes the creature that was the malevolent fairy and her goons were left a mystery. In one story the malevolent fairy had an army of creatures with animalistic features. Is that what they were supposed to be? It would explain the masks. What if you were wrong? “You’re my favorite little guy.”

Sebek looked down at you incredulously as if you had insulted his own mother, and you realized far too late that you had quite literally called a General a little guy. However, instead of bringing his cleaver down upon you and splitting you in half or destroying you with some type of wild fantastical twinkly fairy magic, this General only giggled. He giggled, which made you grin like a fool. You had done something right, apparently!

Deciding against saying the first thought that came to mind, Sebek instead blurted out, “This is the only human you actually talk to! They are the only one among us fae!”

So that’s what they were. Fae. “Details, details. It still counts.” Lilia dismissed, leading you closer to the very end of the hall where it opened up to a space with more soldiers like him and Sebek. Faes. In a huge spacious room, gathered, listing reports on the results of their scouting missions. Missions likely with the goal of finding the princess. Once there, he placed an arm around your shoulder. Here, his voice was quieter to avoid being heard by the masses. “Come, we know the Master will be in need of some good news right about now, whether you can deliver it or fetch it. It will quell his… irritability. And it may take a human to catch a human. We cannot fully comprehend how your minds work, but perhaps you can understand a fellow mortal’s and finally make this search a success. Go now, courier.”

Lilia had pushed you out in the open just as the last of the soldiers were wrapping up their report of failed searches. Your dark garbs and metal crow mask had allowed you to blend right in, but it felt like you were a rabbit in a den of ravenous wolves. No one stared at you, because they were far too transfixed on a towering figure not too far from where the General had pushed you.

As soon as the figure entered your line of vision, you too became just as transfixed as everyone else. Master. This was their master, which could only be the malevolent fairy, fae, in this case. It should have never been possible for someone to have both the facets of a devil but the magnificence of an angel, but he did. Horns as black as night curved atop his head and inky black scales bordered the bases, making it look like a crown while shadows appeared to blend into his robes like fabric weaved of pure darkness devoid of any light. The only light that escaped him came from his eyes, like the common slitted pupils in this crowd yet his eyes glowed an enchanting green like no other.

It was like a moth to a flame, destined to burn, but you found yourself drawing near behind his dark throne anyways.

“It’s inconceivable!” He hissed, loud enough so that the entirety of the gathered could hear his voice echo in the space around them. The thunder outside seemed to crack with his every word. The fae, his loyal denizens, shirked back instinctively yet they continued to awe at the malevolent one. “Twenty years, and not a trace of the princess. How is it that this one human, a mortal, has miraculously escaped the vigilant watchful eyes of every one of my most diligent knights and soldiers who have searched all but endlessly, high and low, for two decades? Hm?”

You kept glued to the wall, the uneven bricks against your back as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible. What were you supposed to do? What could a mortal do against him, the same fae that has the ability to transform into a dragon of immeasurable strength? This fae was the one who would eventually drag you down with him.

“Humans are numerous, and they are a tricky sort, Your Majesty.” Lilia appeared at the forefront of the throng. Despite the obvious vexation of the horned-one, he continued merrily with an encouraging smile, despite the apprehension of his armored colleagues. “We can’t exactly venture into towns too long without the risk of being discovered or the presence of that pesky iron weakening us. But we make do, and during nights we’ve checked every strip of land from the moors’ borders, to the villages and towns, even the highest mountains. Haven’t we, boys?”

A murmur of agreement washed over the crowd. For twenty years they had tirelessly searched, and they had no princess to show for their efforts. It wasn’t that the princess disappeared into thin air, this much you could remember. There was a reason they couldn’t find the princess as she dwelled in a cottage deep within the woods with her caretakers, the three good fairies, acting as poor mortal women. What was that reason again��?

One hand shot up from the crowd, a voice louder than the rest, the familiar voice of Sebek. “Yes, Master Malleus we did! And we will gladly continue our search, comb through every region once more, and check every cradle again all for you to extract your revenge upon the despicable humans and their wicked king!”

“Cradles…?” The dark fae, apparently named Malleus, directed his widening eyes towards them. His grip tightened on his long twisted wooden staff. You were given the answer as to why they never found the princess within the first years. The faes had forgotten that mortals aged, so the princess they were looking for was no longer a baby in a cradle.

“Oh no.” Sensing the impending danger, you took cover behind the throne. From behind the throne you peeked out, using the royal seat as a shield. When the towering fae’s green-eyed gaze landed on you by a glance, you stilled like a frozen statue. The hair on the back of your neck raised as your gaze met his. Seeing his eyes become temporarily focused on you, feeling his unholy presence, sensing the incoming disaster he would wrought–– everything about this man, if he even was a man, made alarm bells ring on your head.

Suddenly, a smile graced his features. It was the sort that masked his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He was close, close enough to reach a hand forward slowly so his fingertips grazed the underside of your chin. Lips curled upward into a menacing grin, but it wasn’t the crazed sort. He was scarily calm as he peered down at you. “Did you hear that, my courier?”

There were over a hundred pairs of eyes on you at the moment. Watching intently as you leaned back a bit, a chill traveling up your spine as his sharp black nails traced your flesh. You’re sure you were beaming like a simpleton, whether out of instinct or out of some sort of response to your current nerves. Certainly this was how the sailors felt in times of old when confronted by enchanting sirens that lured them to certain doom in watery graves. What were the don’ts regarding fairies and faes of myths? Don’t give your name, don’t lie, and don’t enter the obvious fae traps designed to ensnare curious humans. This must’ve been some sort of fae trap, it had to when he had a face like that.

Was Malleus addressing you directly because you were the only human in the room? “Yes… Loud and clear.” One corner of your mouth twitched into an awkward smile in return, but you found yourself unable to remove your eyes from his. A brief and quiet chuckle left your lips, “It’s… kinda funny.”

“Isn’t it?” When he removed his fingers from your chin, you nearly tumbled forward, but you managed to successfully catch yourself before you could crash into him. The fae turned around, beginning to chuckle in his deep voice, a sound which echoed in the tense silence of the packed throne room. “For all these years I have been waiting, and they have been looking for a baby.”

The General, Lilia, was perhaps the first to realize something was amiss when the Master of All Evil began to laugh. Vanrouge seemed like the type to enjoy a laugh, but this wasn’t just a moment to crow about their recent failings. A moment of clarity dawned on him while his colleagues unsurely joined in on the commotion. Your gaze met his and you frantically shook your head as Sebek rapidly clasped his hands over his mouth in shock and regret upon realizing their mistake and his blunder. You tried to signal them to flee while you yourself retreated further back behind the throne for cover.

It was just in the nick of time too, as the air began to fizzle with static electricity, growing with every passing second as his laugh became less humorous and more diabolical. There was the same lightning from before but instead of being outside, it sounded as if it was inside these very walls. Crashing and striking every second, one, two, three, four, five, shaking the castle. You felt your eardrums vibrate as you continued to brace yourself behind the throne until it stopped. This was your first true taste of utter terror and helplessness.

Here you were for a reason, to die, either by stone or before, whether it be by the clubs of the fae soldiers, at the sharp end of a holy sword, or between the maws of the Master of All Evil. It felt like an eternity, but it was likely under a minute, when the destruction ended. Trembling slightly, you peeked out to survey the damage.

It was a harsh reminder of your current plight. There were no bodies laying motionless, as everyone either had the means to defend themselves or Malleus simply wasn’t aiming for any of them in his burst of anger. The throne room had been largely evacuated thanks to General Lilia and Sebek. Only shields and the occasional weapon were left behind in the hurry to avoid being struck by his wrath, dark spots were ingrained where the lightning struck the ground, a few stones tumbled loose from any walls that were hit as collateral damage.

If you somehow survived this, it would be no less than a miracle.

The air cooled, no longer hot with generating bolts of electricity, as the bottom of the dark fae’s staff snapped against the ground and he frowned deeply. Turning heel, his robes swished behind him as he made his way to his lonely throne with his head hung low. As he sat in the quiet empty room, you slowly revealed yourself from behind his throne.

The fae only glanced at you briefly, as he took a deep breath and exhaled. Averting his gaze away from you, he didn’t strike you down just for staying. In fact, his next words seemed almost out of character for his role as Master of All Evil. “I apologize for my outburst… That was unbecoming of me.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you kneeled beside his throne at the right side of his armrest. For some reason, the king of the faes wouldn’t look at you. Rather, he opted to keep his gaze directed at the empty open space of the throne room. “Well, I think that was a reasonable crashout after twenty years of waiting only to hear they were looking for the wrong thing. I’d probably lose my temper too if I were you. You’re pretty patient for waiting even half that time.”

“I appreciate your attempts to ease my suffering.” Somber. The dark fae was not as cruel as you had originally imagined. Frightening, yes, but he didn’t willingly and knowingly aim to zap his own subjects. After a few seconds of complete silence, he finally directed his undivided attention towards you. “It has been some time since I’ve personally requested my courier to go. The last time was when the… beastly little royal human had been born into this world. But now, due to the ignorance my own kin have shown, I must ask you to venture into the human kingdom.”

“O… kay.” Slowly you nodded along, already knowing what he wanted you to find. The princess would be the objective. However, even for your knowledge of the story, you only knew she dwelled in a cottage within the woods. You had no idea how to actually go about finding her!

The dark fae peered down at you, his green eyes staring into yours. Moving his hand to your head a few inches above the armrest of his throne, he carefully examined your every feature. It was petrifying to be analyzed so closely by such a creature of imaginable power, but his otherworldly sort of allure made it almost possible to forget the frightening show of strength you had just witnessed. Almost, but not quite, as his power was just as striking.

“Circle far and wide.” Malleus began, his fingers against your chin slowly making you stand on your feet but not stand straight. You had to remain in a low stance as if hunched over, he brought your face close to his until he stood. Stood so his figure was towering over yours like an ominous shadow, and so you had to look up at him. These next words were a command, cold and indisputable. “Search for a maiden with hair of sunshine gold and lips red as the rose. Go, and do not fail me.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Run. That was at the forefront of your mind. The alternative to a life of freedom and chance was appealing when compared to the gruesome fateful end you are destined to eventually meet. It would be easy to escape, given that you already had a black stallion as a steed to transport you from the fae’s moors and enchanted forests to the open fields and sprawling towns where your fellow humans resided.

Run is what your mentality screamed when you had faced the Master of All Evil and stared him down. There was a good chance that other malefactors who may have ended up in similar situations as yours may have met their fate much earlier. On the ride to the neighboring kingdom’s main capital city, you had plenty of time to think of how you may have unintentionally dodged death. Should Sebek have found you suspicious and realized you did not belong, he would easily have the strength to overtake you; if Lilia had noticed that you were not one of his own, then his cleaver would have been stained red; even Malleus could’ve easily obliterated you with his magic, whether unintentionally or deliberately.

Run is what you wanted to do when you finally reached the human city. Flee far into the countryside, in a land far far far away from here, completely out of reach for even the mighty fae and his loyal underlings.

Such an option was tempting, that is, until you actually beheld human civilization. It was jarring, to say the least, the scene was a cold slap in the face, a reminder that this was not at all like the world you once knew. Riding into town, you found it a dreary type of place. Ever since you stepped foot out of fae territory, it’s as if the light had been sucked out of every living thing. Were things always this monotonous, or did the peaceful air in the vibrance of the enchanted forests just make things look worse in comparison?

This was a medieval era, you were reminded as much by the colorful banners of the royal family and noble houses, the aroma of freshly baked bread, and the strong scent of burning coal and forging irons. People milled about, going on with their daily duties, completely ignoring the stranger that was you.

That’s right–– to these simple townsfolk, you were one of them! A human, not a fae that which they feared. Perhaps a wandering knight in armor, a traveller passing through, nobody worth a second glance. This is why Malleus thought you were most fit to venture out for clues. However, what you wanted were not clues but answers. Should you stay or go? Risk your life and somehow try to change the entirety of the plot, in the hopes you would be rewarded for your loyalty by the fae king that wielded incredible power and riches? Or choose to run, run and never look back, run and hope you found something better to avoid your punishment?

This desire for answers was seemingly answered in the form of a stranger. A stranger who nearly ran you over with a brilliant white steed, as you were walking and leading your own stallion by its leather reigns. It was close to the marketplace, but in an isolated corner of the city boxed in by towering brick walls built to fortress invasions. Which is why hardly anyone was there to bear witness as you jumped back, narrowly missing being stepped on by the hooves of the suddenly appearing beast as your own horse grew panicked.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” You scowled at the rider, whose face you didn’t see until their horse backed up and you had to calm your own. It was difficult to calm it, it felt nearly impossible when you had no experience with these finicky creatures as you awkwardly tugged on the reins and tried to reach a hand toward it.

A pale hand came into view, placing itself upon the creature’s black fur on its forehead. “Here, let me help.” Instantly, he calmed the anxious creature with just one soothing touch and the sound of his hushed voice.

A fae? No, that was impossible! The telltale sign was the soft round ears and round pupils dotting the most entrancing pair of eyes you had ever seen before. It felt impossible to name the color, but it was like dawn’s first light. The hair on his head reflected the evening sun like silver, even his outfit was pristine and not that of a commoner. Gray and white tunic of high quality fabrics buttoned with gold, tailored dark pants with black polished boots, and a white cloak flowing down his back. Even if this man certainly had the grace and charm of a fae, he certainly was not one, he was human.

“I’m terribly sorry.” Carefully he gathered the black leather reigns in his hands, placing them in yours as his fingers brushed against your flesh. He was warm. “I didn’t see you there, and I didn’t mean to frighten your horse, or you. Are you alright…?”

A bit taken aback, you didn’t react as he slid the reins into your hands. You were far too entranced, puzzled by his mere presence. No human should be that pretty. The guy was radiant, he stood out so prominently. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, the words came tumbling past your lips and you only realized how it sounded once they were out hanging in the air. “What are you?”

The refined gentleman remained mostly impassive, but his eyes widened the slightest bit and he blinked. Slowly lowering his calloused hands, he looked at you inquisitively. Specifically staring at your mask. “My name is Silver. Who are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You realized how peculiar you must’ve looked to others. The mask allowed you to fit right in among the fae, but here, there was no need for such a thing. So slowly you removed it and attached it to your hip. “Silver, huh…? Is that a nickname or something? It’s not really original.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t very original.” Shaking his head lightly, expressionless, his eyes drifted to the ground as he casually admitted, “It was a name suggested by my late uncle who passed on before my birth in a terrible tragedy. My mother and father decided to keep it in his honor.”

When he looked back at you, both your hands were clasped over your mouth. Rapidly, you began to attempt to make up for your blunder, nearly stumbling over your words. “N-No, no, you heard me wrong…! I meant that it’s a very original name. Really. I mean, who else do you know that has the name Silver? Or Gold? Or Bronze? No one! Your name is perfect, I love it.”

“Oh, well thank you…” Silver managed the slightest trace of a smile, but other than that he remained rather apathetic. Still, he peered down at you with vague curiosity. “You still have yet to tell me your name.”

“My name?” Were you allowed to even say your name? What if you said it, and a fae heard it, and failed to recognize it? That would be a fatal mistake. “Oh, I have a name. And it’s not a metal-based one, mind you. But, everyone just calls me Courier.” That’s what Lilia had referred to you as earlier.

The young man tilted his head to the side, looking rather confused as he guessed. “Your nickname is your occupation?”

“… Yes.” You winced, realizing how stupid it seemed, worse than a name like his, but it was already out in the open. It couldn’t be taken back. “It’s a nickname.”

“I see.” There was no judgement on his end. All he did was nod along, taking it all with grace. Lightly tugging on the reins of his steed, just to keep them close as you did with yours, he looked around the empty street. “Courier, may I ask you a favor? It appears I’ve gotten myself lost. The last time I was here was several years ago, and I hardly recognize any of these roads. I was trying to find my way to the palace to meet with the King. Do you believe you might be able to point me in the right direction?”

Your ear perked up at that. The King? As in one of the humans that Malleus viewed as a foe? It didn’t take long at all to find a lead! If this lead proved to be useful, then maybe it was worth the risk staying. If Malleus became the victor to receive his own happily ever after, wouldn’t that mean you would receive the same? “The King? Well, you must be someone important to meet with him.”

“Ah, yes, I don’t usually mention this… It draws far too much attention.” Silver shifted as you gestured for him to follow. You had no idea where the palace was, but it wouldn’t be too hard to move towards the general direction of a towering estate once you saw it. Keeping up with your pace, the black and white horses in tow, he continued, “I have to meet with him because I’m the prince betrothed to his daughter.”

You nearly screamed in delight. This was perfect! Too perfect! This wasn’t just a lead, this was one of the story’s two main protagonists! Instead, you could only grin, your giddiness probably seemed common to him whenever he introduced himself as royalty. But your excitement was due for another entirely different reason. “You don’t say!”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he responded quietly, a bit confused, “I’m saying so right now…?”

“No, it’s an expression, duh.” You rolled your eyes, half amused by the prince’s innocence. This was all coming together so well! However, you had to remain cautious. In the story, the crow assisted in the capture of the prince and eternal sleep falling over the princess, but it was due to carelessness that the bird still got turned to stone! “So, you’re practically engaged to someone you don’t even know? Ooh… I’m very sorry for your marriage.”

Silver paused, appearing slightly confused as he spoke in such a soft and enchanting voice. The prince made simple words sound like a lullaby. “I’m no expert in felicitations, but I believe the saying is congratulations, not I’m very sorry for your marriage.”

Appearing to contemplate his words for a moment, you then shrug your shoulders and dismiss the comment from him. “Hmm… Nahhhh.” You know what you said. “I meant what I said.”

“What an odd thing to say.” Silently furrowing his eyebrows, he appeared deep in thought as he considered your words. Quietly the prince remarked in a hushed tone, “No one has ever said such a thing to me. Since you said that, it must mean you understand that this isn’t an entirely positive ordeal for me. I… never thought anyone would understand my life long predicament.”

“What…?” Looking at him with a mix of confusion and amusement, you held back any laughter. All you had done was try to poke fun and tease the prince, not talk heart to heart with him!

The prince looked at you, a delighted sparkle in his eyes that contradicted the apathetic expression of the royal. Keeping pace, he followed rather closely even as you picked up speed once catching sight of the palace from the corner of your eye. “You understand that this arranged royal marriage is not as grand as most make it out to be. I haven’t even met my betrothed yet.”

Personally, you didn’t see much wrong with his romantic situation, but that was coming from someone of the outside perspective. Slaying a dragon aside, all he had to do was marry a wealthy princess of unmatched beauty and grace, who he’ll come to love anyways. After the wedding he’d remain royalty, and eventually become a king. “Oh, boo-hoo, what a problem to have!” Actually, scratch that. You wouldn’t want to be him when he was the one who had to face the Master of All Evil head on in combat. Malleus was frightening enough just as he was, but seeing him as a dragon was likely a thousand times more terrifying.

Again, the sarcasm went directly over his head. Instead, he nodded along, keeping pace as his leather-toed boots clicked against the cobblestone street. “Well, I wouldn’t say boo-hoo exactly. It doesn’t quite make me sad, just… disappointed, I suppose. It is a heavy burden to shoulder. Father and Mother believe that uniting our kingdoms through marriage is the best option in protecting us from the fae.”

“The fae, hm? How scary~” You hummed. Upon the mention of the fae, you cannot help but recall the magical folk with their pointed ears and beastly masks. Certainly the way they came across with their attire could be very frightening. They were a funny bunch, but unsettling.

“I wouldn’t know. I have never met one before, my family has forbidden it.” Silver shrugged lightly, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him. Conscious of every step he took, he made slow measured strides so as to not outpace you. “Perhaps someday, if I were to ever meet one, we could establish diplomatic relations to mend the harm that our people have caused to each other throughout history. Most humans do not want to fight, and I’d like to believe that the fae feel the same.”

“It’s possible the fae aren’t all bad.”

For a moment, you pictured it. Peace between the Moors and the Kingdom. While some fae seemed to have an aversion toward humanity, their majestic leader didn’t appear to feel the same. Rather, his loathing was specifically aimed at the King and by extension his Princess daughter, which would then also extend to the daughter’s betrothed Prince currently walking beside you. Silver would be an enemy in Malleus’ eyes by association to the Princess.

“What? Is your heart made out of gold or something?” You scoffed, distracting from the serious topic with a bit of light teasing. The conversation was beginning to feel too heavy. “Or should I say… a heart of silver!” When you only got a silent glance from him, you faltered. “Nevermind. Tough crowd.”

Coming up to the guarded wooden bridge that separated the city from the kingdom, you stopped in the shadows. It was best to avoid any unwanted attention, especially from the knights standing guard at the entrance as people flowed across the bridge. This was the furthest you could go. Best not risk being caught as a human spy for the fae.

“I thought it was funny.” Silver admitted quietly, stopping beside you in the light as he placed a hand over his horse’s neck. Even though he said he found it humorous, his expression didn’t match his words.

Noticing this, you gave a half scoff as you pointed out the obvious. “You didn’t even laugh.”

Silently he watched you climb onto the saddle over the black horse. At your words he nodded slowly in confirmation. Indeed, he had not laughed at your joke. Stepping forward, stopping you from leaving immediately, he placed his hand over yours which gripped the reins. Those aurora eyes gazed up at you, glittering, despite the detached expression on his face. “May I see you again? You were the first to never scoff at my idea that the fae can be reasoned with.”

The fae could be reasoned with, you knew this much. It may be difficult, but it is possible. Perhaps once Malleus wrought revenge on those who crossed him, he would be willing to be amicable. Now if that would even be possible after the humans see a notorious fae bring death upon their royals like a curse, was a completely different story. “You want to see me again?”

Silver nodded, confirming even despite seeing the sheer incredibility of your expression. “Also to hear more of your jokes.”

Pulling the reins out of his grasp, your steed stepped in place but seemed much easier to control now. “Uhh… sure? Why not? I like you anyways, you’re kinda weird.” Before he could open his mouth, you interrupted, calling over your shoulder as your steed began to take off. “Don’t ask questions! We’ll see each other again, don’t worry.”

You would definitely be seeing him again, for better or for worse. If your memory serves you right, the Malevolent Fairy captures the Prince and has him chained in her palace’s dungeon. There, while her goons are reveling in their victory, she and her avian companion pay a visit to their royal prisoner. It is then that the Malevolent Fairy reveals her plan to keep the Prince locked away for a hundred years, and only then once he’s old and on the verge of death, will he be allowed free to go and wake the Princess after a century of slumber. Maybe you could convince Malleus to spare Silver? Could that work to your advantage or would that work against you?

As you steer the steed through the forest, back to the moors through a different path, weaving through dense foliage and shrubbery in the search for another hint, the flash of color caught your gaze. It was out of place, bright and glittering against nature’s backdrop. They were like small puffs and explosions of glitter and light, colorful like fireworks, as clear as flares. When you got close enough, you knew you had found it when you spotted a little hidden cottage. From inside past closed doors came bickering and shouting as the chimney spouted magic instead of black soot.

Steadily a grin grew on your face as you awed at the magic dust spewing from the top. “Huh… that’s awfully convenient. But wait a minute…”

You stayed behind, hiding your steed in the dense foliage as you crept along in the shadows cast by the trees and the back of the cottage. Eventually, a girl did arrive. A girl with golden hair and rose red lips, the one that had to be the princess. You listened as she arrived, the side of your face pressed up against the cold rugged stone walls.

The princess was ecstatic upon receiving her birthday gifts, but she spoke of no mysterious man. No true love she met in the woods. Not even when her caretakers, who must’ve been the three good fairies, told her about her true identity as royalty, she didn’t cry because she would not see the man she fell in love with. Since she hadn’t met him, because of you.

“Fuck…!” You cursed under your breath, dread pooling in the depths of your stomach.

You had taken up too much of Silver’s time. So much time that he had missed the vital point in the plot where he was supposed to accidentally stumble upon the hidden Princess in the woods, and they were to fall in love. You were telling him stupid jokes while he was supposed to be falling head over heels with her! The storyline had already gone astray by this one mistake, and the terrible realization dawned on you.

“I’m a homewrecker––”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Why, our courier is back so soon.” Lilia crooned as he watched you burst through the stairs coming from the stables. Seeing your slightly disheveled appearance, he tilted his head but didn’t move from his spot lounging snuggly at the windowsill overlooking the vast expanse of training grounds. “My, my, don’t tell me the humans gave you trouble! You look like a bat out of hell.”

Quickly shaking your head, you drew nearer to him as he carefully studied you. It made you nervous, being watched so closely by a General, but you just had to play it cool! “Nooo.” You curse the awkward crack in your voice, clearing your throat. “Of course not! I just have some very urgent news.”

“Hmm. For a moment there I thought I would have to scare a lesson into some troublesome humans picking on our precious little courier.” Diverting his attention back to the window against his side, he hummed as he spectated some knights sparring against each other with brandished blades.

You watched as Lilia leaned forward towards the window in interest, his nose practically pressed up against the glass. With a motion of his fingers, he caused some of the training dummies to move by magic. He lifted his fingers, controlling them like puppets so they weakly pestered and frightened any younger knights beside them.

As a few terrified screams and panicked shouts rang out from the courtyard, Lilia grinned and threw his head back in laughter. When he caught your half-amused and sort of confused smile, the mischievous fae beamed. “Come now, these are the jokes, young mortal. I’d expect you to understand. Don’t you have any otherworldly humor you could present to me? Phony says what.”

“What…?” One word. One word he said caused you to freeze, the sentence you were about to say hung off your lips and clogged your throat. Phony…? Any smile on your face was momentarily dashed as you processed what he just said, and you wanted to smack yourself for your stupidity. Audibly you gulped, forcing down anything you would have said before. The confusion must’ve been clear on your face, because it only served to amuse him further. You never were too good at hiding your shock. “You… You know I’m not––?”

“I know you’re very very far from home. I’ve lived nearly a millennium and traveled the globe, and during my travels I’ve heard the occasional rumor of unexplainable instances concerning particular mortals. A single mortal acting odd, out of place, with more knowledge than they should, especially before monumental events. Although I never assumed it would happen here.” Lilia mused, resting his temple against the glass as his crimson red eyes never left your form. The shiny cleaver at his side looked extra sharp. “Usually, I’m not too fond of strange humans. However, you appear to be relatively harmless.” Flashing a fang-toothed grin that only made you grimace a bit, he continued, “Don’t worry, I quite like you. It sounds like you were successful in your hunt for information, and that’s what matters most.”

You proceeded carefully, prodding a bit further just to test the limits of the current boundaries. “You’re not… mad?”

“Oh, heavens no! Why should I be? You seem quite diligent and charming in your own right. So long as you don’t betray Malleus, then we will have no issue between us.” His voice had turned a bit serious, low, as his little grin dimmed. “He has already faced far too much betrayal at the hands of humans. Even for someone on the dense side, anyone can see that becoming a source of hatred for him would be akin to signing away their life. And I’m sure you aren’t that dull, are you?”

Quickly shaking your head, the frown on your lips pulled down further as you remembered just how terrifying his electrifying show of power had been. And that wasn’t even the full extent of his strength! “Uh, no, I don’t think so. So… you won’t tell anyone about me?”

“There’s no need for me to do so, so no.” With a slow beckoning of his finger, you felt an unfamiliar visible force against your back. Immediately you were pulled, magically tugged by some unseen force until he was close enough to grab you by the collar. Again, it was a stark reminder as to who you were dealing with, especially upon seeing the calluses on his palms and tiny scars littered across his slim fingers. Nervously you smiled, and he returned the gesture with a confident one. “Let’s have a bit of a partnership, shall we? A trade, if you will. A bit of tit for tat. I’m curious about what you know, and I’m sure you feel something similar towards me. Am I right? Enlighten me, dear courier.”

“Haha…” A crooked smile made its way on your lips, as you somehow remained composed. Maybe your mind wasn’t immediately comprehending the danger you were currently in. “You first?”

Lilia eyed you carefully, eventually letting go of your collar as he plucked your metal mask right off your face. “Very well. But only because you asked nicely.” That likely wasn’t the reason. This fae was a General, and it didn’t take a genius to realize he must’ve been a rather ruthless one if his scars were anything to go by.

You silently thanked whatever higher force was watching over you, as Lilia could have easily decided to take you out right then and there for being a liar and an intruder.

Sharp black nails traced every dip and groove in the metal, his fingers trailing down the long beak of the mask in his grasp. General Vanrouge made no effort to call for backup or restrain you simply because he didn’t need to. “If I were you, I would first like to know my place in all this.”

A single nod from you was all the confirmation he needed in order to continue.

“You are his majesty’s precious courier. A human he found one day when outside of the moors, he watched you be abandoned by your village. Those simple minded folk claimed you were cursed by fae, that there was something wrong with you. So, a fae took you in, because he needed a mortal to be his eyes and ears in the places he couldn’t go.” That explained a lot about why you were the only mortal allowed in the moors and enchanted forest. It explained why his soldier’s would sometimes watch you warily, but never outright harm you. Because you were considered his, a personal servant to their sovereign. “Now, may I have your name?”

Immediately your mind honed in on those words. May I have your name? Faes weren’t real back home, but here, they were very real and very dangerous. If the stories were true, then they were a tricky type that chose their words carefully, often holding double meanings to what they say. You caught sight of a glimmer of magic readily swirling at his fingertips. The general didn’t just want to hear your name. “No, you may not.” You managed an attempt at a smile as he blinked at you. “You can just call me Courier, just like everyone else here.”

Steadily a smirk grew on his face as he chuckled, “Smart, mortal. Alright, Courier. If you won’t give me your name, then answer this: why are you here? For power, perhaps glory, or riches unattainable by your current standing?”

“That all does sound nice but believe it or not, I’m not here willingly.” Was there any harm in telling him? If he wouldn’t speak of your identity, would he mention the reason you were here to anyone else? In myths, faes didn’t appreciate liars. Besides, the near millenia old being seemed like the type to figure this out especially with your habit of letting things slip. Even if you lied now and he later found out the truth, he may not be too pleased to discover that you had the gall to lie twice to him. “It may sound like one big joke to you, but I’ll tell you.”

Awkwardly you glanced away, unable to meet his gaze anymore. You tried looking everywhere but at him. Your gaze landed on the window, and you saw the familiar green-haired knight picking up the busted remains of ravaged training dummies. After a few seconds, Sebek’s green eyes landed on you by chance, and you immediately averted your gaze again. How did you even begin to explain your origins?

“See, it’s like this…” You took a deep breath before beginning. “My homeland is strict and punishes criminals by banishing them. I got banished and woke up here. That’s the gist of it. And if you’re wondering what I want, well… all those things you said before do sound nice, I just mainly want to focus on surviving. This whole situation seems… familiar, in a way. Like a story I read before.”

“Hmmm…” Although Lilia didn’t really react vocally, you could see the shock and intrigue in those big red eyes that widened at your explanation. However, he remained mostly quietly, an amused smile on his face as he was engrossed in your explanation. Only when you finished speaking did he ask inquisitively, “What was your crime? You seem so youthful, naive, and sincere. Positive qualities. Surely whatever your people found you guilty of could not have been any sort of offense worse than I’ve committed. You’re still a bit wet behind the ears after all.”

Slowly shrugging, you replied somewhat quietly. “I’d rather not answer that.”

“Fair enough. We all have a few skeletons in our closets that we’d prefer not to reveal. Some may be quite literal!” Wait, what did he just say? “So if you’re not willing to give up your name, or the specifics of your crime, then what are you willing to offer?”

You watched as he sat up, his feet dangling off the floor as he sat on the window ledge. Carefully you contemplated his words, weighing each of your choices until the first thing came to mind. “I can promise you I’ll make sure Malleus gets a good ending. Because if this plays out like how I think it will, then a dragon ends up stabbed through the heart.”

Something in Lilia’s eyes flashed as he stood up. It was chilling how the fae’s wide bright eyes went from curious and mirthful to cold and unblinking. “Is that so…?”

“Yes. But I don’t want that, and I’m sure you don’t want that too, right?” You tried not to falter, but you couldn’t help but take a few steps back when he continued to steadily walk towards you without stopping. “Well… I’d like to prevent that with just one condition. I get to possibly live comfortably afterwards––” An involuntary gasp left your mouth as your back hit the wall, you were cornered. Slowly you sunk down, suddenly very intimidated by the small General as you practically sunk down until he was the one leering down at you. “And maybe you don’t, you know, kill me…?”

The general’s fist was suddenly beside your head, his thumb grazing the shell of your ear as you could make out the distinct sound of stone crumbling as his fingers gripped the bricks. “So what you’re telling me is that you may be able to predict the future. So if you die, then there’s the heightened chance of our King dying?”

“I––” You were wrong. You knew Lilia was someone to be feared, but you underestimated how utterly terrifying he was. Yes, he was darling and cute, but he didn’t even need his signature weapon to be effective. “Y-Yes…?”

General Vanrouge appeared to scrutinize you as you realized just how sharp his fangs were. In the blink of an eye, his harsh expression dropped and he smiled at your terror. “Okay! I won’t break His Majesty’s little courier he's been so intrigued by. You’ll be under my protection now. It’s as simple as that. I’m sure you won’t even consider running away from me, isn’t that right?”

When he tilted his head, his black and red hair was so close that it brushed against your face. His nose practically in front of yours as you immediately shook your head. “I-I would never…!”

“Good! Then it’s settled.” Lilia beamed as he took a step back, wiping off the crumbled brick dust off his hands as he laughed at your petrified form. “Scurry off now. Go tell the young master the news you’ve brought. Oh, and next time I see you, I expect to hear many jokes and I will be picking at your mind for every single tidbit of knowledge you’re hiding from me.” When you looked at him incredulously, he gave you a little wave with a wiggle of his fingers. His giggling was an unsettling reminder as he seemed to vanish around the corner. “I’ll be watching you!”

After a few moments, you peeked behind the corner, both awed and slightly aghast to see he was completely gone. There wasn’t a single trace of him left. Rather, in his place was a certain knight. The loud one stood all the way at the other end of the hall, staring at you slack-jawed in furious disbelief.

“You heard that, didn’t you…?” You sighed.

“You…!!” Red-faced. He was flustered possibly with confusion and realization, the realization that this entire time he had been speaking with someone that didn’t belong. A human, yes, like he despised but worse, because this human didn’t belong at all. In an instant he was in your face, and you feared more for your eardrums than your life right now. “You, mortal, speak of affairs you know NOTHING about!!!”

“That is true!” Hopefully no one was within the vicinity to hear him.

Perhaps he was angry for a multitude of reasons. Lying to him, tricking people, making deals with the General, and overall still remaining ignorant of many things like why exactly did Malleus hate the King. However, it was probably because he knew you were taking advantage of the situation. A situation that was his reality, and very important to him, and he had overheard it all. “You have NO respect––!!”

“That is also true!” Picking up your mask which Lilia had dropped on the floor, you brushed it off and added quickly before he could assault your eardrums again. “I didn’t ask to be sent here. What more do you want from me?”

“Spare me your foul excuses, human!” Gnashing his teeth, you only now realize just how much sharper his fangs were than any other fae you had encountered thus far. It reminded you of a crocodile. “You are merely the Master’s pet, the role of the human whether you or someone else will remain constant! For some reason he sees you fit to bask in the glory of his presence, and I cannot even fathom as to why! The Master must find your human presence convenient besides just for basic intel, and for what those other purposes are, our minds can not even begin to comprehend his intentions! Although for what reasons he would want such an unsightly human is far beyond my understanding.”

Placing your hand over your heart, you reeled back in offense as a hurt expression overtook your facial features. Forget the fact that he basically insinuated you were ugly. “Oww? Why so rude? I am many things but a pet is not one of them!”

“Are you implying that you, a mere human, are on par with a fae such as I or even the great and mighty Malleus Draconia?” The knight gasped. “Why, the nerve of you, mortal!”

Incredulously you squinted at him. Did all faes revere their sovereign to this insane degree, or was it just this one? Did he forget that you were his sovereign’s only human courier while he had many knights and soldiers at his disposal? “I’m not implying anything, but I’m just saying, look who has special privileges to go see your precious Master whenever I please. It’s me! Not you!”

“Human––!!”

As he clenched his fist, you dramatically gasped and waggled your finger. It was surprisingly fun to mess with him because it was so easy. “No, no, no. Wouldn’t want to hurt your Master’s only human courier when I carry important news, would you? I think he would be very unhappy if you did. You heard me talking with your General, I have a plan.”

“You? Important news?” Sebek practically sneered. “You don’t mean to tell me you actually went to listen in on the comings and goings of the human kingdom instead of relying solely on your mystic knowledge? Tell me, do you really have a plan or is that one of your despicable lies again?”

“Yes, I did, actually.” There was no telling how successful you would be. Truthfully, you weren’t entirely sure where to go from here now that the plot had changed. The best bet would likely to still curse the Princess, and somehow get the Master of All Evil to consider sparing the Prince, but you would have to convince the Prince to not fight Malleus. Easier said than done. Silver seemed like the noble type, but if you could deceive him somehow so he wouldn’t rescue the Princess… “And I have… part of a plan. How hard can it be? I mean, I practically already charmed their prince! Although that part was fully unintentional.”

“You…?” The knight didn’t seem too convinced, although there was a flicker of shock at the mention of charming a royal. “You seduced the human prince meant to wed the enemy king’s daughter? That prince? If you lie to me again, I will not forgive you twice!”

After a brief pause, you shrugged and admitted, “I mean… I told a joke and he said he wanted to see me again––”

“Debaucher!!” Sebek pointed accusingly, his face flush. Only now as his cheeks heated up did you notice he had the slightest trace of green scales hidden where his hair began. Weird. “I knew humans were vile and loathsome, but you…!”

Despite his finger in your face, you actually cracked a grin. “You literally cannot call me anything worse than what I’ve called myself. And for the record, I just told him a joke and showed him the way through the human town. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t get it twisted.”

The fae appeared to be drawn deep in thought, holding his fingers to his chin, stroking the few scales near his neck as he actually considered your response. Or at least, for a moment he appeared to be doing that. “I don’t understand… Are humans so naturally deceptive or are they so senselessly blind to deceit playing right before their eyes? Perhaps it is both.” Just before you could reprimand him again for saying such things when you were literally less than two feet away from him, he began with a newfound sense of energy, as if reaching a profound realization. “I see! I believe I understand it now! It is because you are so disgustingly devious that the Master has decided to keep you around! Any human can be treacherous and shrewd, but it takes a truly depraved one to betray their own kind! So clearly, our human is superior to all others!”

You stared at him hard, mostly speechless. What sort of mental gymnastics did he perform to come to that conclusion? Best not to question it, as he seemed like the type to stubbornly refuse defeat. “You know, if Malleus really wanted to––”

“That’s Master Malleus to you, fiend!” Sebek rebuked sternly, apparently having no regard for the fact that he literally cut you off.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you replied sarcastically, “You know if Master Malleus really wanted to end things…” Pausing, you waited to see if he would interrupt you again, but he only grinned in satisfaction so you proceeded. “Why doesn’t he just, you know––” You slid your hand over your throat in a slicing motion. “––the Princess?”

“The audacity of you, courier! How dare you make such an assumption?” Perhaps the suggestion was going too far. “The Master is a noble spirit, I do not know what sort of idea you have of him, but cease that affront at once! If you are to operate on behalf of our esteemed leader among the ranks of his knights, you must change your perspective of him. The Master is understanding and knowledgeable… I too once had a similar idea and asked him once, his response was that the objective of his curse was to cause the most suffering possible to those who have wronged him.”

You piped up, “… I mean, I could do it just to put an end to things.”

“No!! Did you not just hear me?” There was the flash of his fangs again, but he wasn’t out right snarling again. At least that was a good sign. Firmly he explained, “The Master doesn’t need your help in assassination! He is far more capable than just slitting one’s throat! With a flick of his finger, he could disarm an entire army! The Princess would stand no chance!”

Motioning him to tone it down, you grimaced at his volume. There was no doubt in your mind that it was entirely possible that at least one person had overheard the conversation. It would be a miracle if no one had overheard any of the details at this point. “Let’s not talk about that super loud. You know, I still have to deliver the news.”

Pausing, Sebek opened his mouth, “Ah–– you are correct. That was negligent of me to take up your time when the Master is awaiting your presence.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he squeezed slightly, and you noticed he had quite the nails and a powerful grip. The knight smiled, actually beamed with such sharp teeth. “Do not fret, courier. Although I find your mortal ways absolutely despicable, you will soon realize what a blessing it is to serve the Master! For now, you are my comrade, and I will help change your selfish desires!”

Silently staring at him, astounded by his confidence and logic, the sarcastic comment slipped out as you looked straight into his eager sparkling eyes. Apparently he really believed he could really change your mindset. “I’m tearing up…”

“I know, do not cry!” The sarcasm went completely over his head as he roped you in so you were shoulder-to-shoulder. Enthusiastically he continued, forcing you to walk along with him as he moved forward. “I understand, believe me, serving His Majesty is a wondrous thing! Do not be overwhelmed, even if it is very easy to get swept away by the glory of his mere presence, I am here to guide you! Together, we shall serve Master Malleus for many years to come!” After a few feet, his ironclad grip loosened enough for you to stumble a few paces forward out of his hold. “Go. We will begin tomorrow at dawn, and I will take it upon myself to enlighten you on all fae history and the biography of our esteemed leader! If you are late, I will simply track you down and force you to listen, I hope I have made myself clear enough!”

Note to self, think of an excuse to get out of that tomorrow. Maybe lying and saying Malleus gave you some top secret important mission would be enough to get Sebek off your back. “Crystal clear. Now, if you’ll excuse me––”

Before he could even think to begin again, you got out of there quickly. It was by asking servants did you hear that the fae king was in his study and apparently did not wish to be disturbed, probably due to the fact that he was likely bitter from the earlier disappointment about the whole cradle thing.

“Malleus! Master Malleus!” Your fist pounded on the door. According to the servants, the general rule was to never ever bother the fae when his door was closed and especially when he was in a foul mood, but you were the exception as you brought reports.

The door to the study where he was remained firmly shut for a few moments, until there was a wave of his hand and a green glow which unlocked the latch. Caving under your weight, the door flew open, nearly making you fall face first against the cold hard ground which caused you to shout in exclamation.

Somehow you caught yourself, your fingers brushing against the ground but you remained on your feet for the most part. Quickly you recomposed yourself, still slightly flustered under the majestic fae’s menacing gaze.

Malleus lifted his chin, his green-eyed gaze never leaving yours. It was another shock, a reminder, as you nearly forgot how frightening he was. Turning his attention away from the balcony, he watched you fumble about like a king would look upon their pitiful jester. “Well?”

“Um… well…” Despite how many times you practiced your lines before arriving, your memory and any confidence went right off the balcony ledge overlooking the fae’s kingdom. When under the scrutiny of a magical being so ethereal yet so terrifying, it made your mind blank. “I, uh, saw stuff. Definitely saw things, and… uh…” Suddenly your mouth went dry, and words made no sense in your mind. If you focused on his midnight black hair, it made it possible to speak when you weren’t focused on his gaze. “So there was a Prince… very nice, mind you. Not so bad. He seems to want to think well of faes. Found him as I was walking around the kingdom, then he told me he was on the way to meet his future father-in-law, you know, the King? And then, well, I was in the woods when the strangest thing happened.”

It was only by staring at his hair so long did you notice the odd features. The small black scales merging with his hairline, the unnatural smoothness of his hair without a single strand out of place, even his majestic horns appeared to glimmer in the light. It was easy to get distracted.

“And… um… oh…! What I was saying is that there was a cottage, and its chimney was spewing this colorful magic.” That seemed to catch his attention, as his gaze which had begun to drift away immediately shifted when his eyes were suddenly transfixed on you and what you were saying. “Turns out, three peasant women live there with a girl exactly like the Princess.”

“Like the Princess, you say?” The fae slowly turned towards the open balcony, where one could see the entirety of his domain which included those enchanted forests and moors. Past the wall of giant thorns protecting his land and people, in the very distance, it was possible to just barely make out the towering palace where the human royalty resided. A ghost of a wicked smile appeared on his lips. “Twenty years. I have made my old friend suffer for two decades, approximately a third of his short mortal lifespan. Last I heard from my previous courier, is that his Queen was on her deathbed from a terrible illness and the King was slowly going mad.”

Previous courier… You should’ve expected this. Instantly you felt sick to your stomach. Did Lilia tell him? Or Sebek? But why? They promised! Didn’t they claim to detest liars? Your first instinct was to cover your face with your hands, as if being unable to see anything or hear him would make everything go away. But what good would that be? Sucking in the air through your teeth, you glanced upwards at the ceiling, praying for some sort of miracle or divine intervention. “They didn’t tell you, did they…?”

“No, my General and knights keep their promises.” Placing a cold pale hand on your head, his fingers threaded carefully through your hair. Part of you expected him to just execute you here and now, turn you to stone himself for lying to him. “I’ve known since you awoke here. My General, Lilia, even gave you a hint. Twice. He had no need to tell me when I see through your eyes and hear through your ears. You see, I made that deal with the original. You took their role, and the curse remained in place.”

You felt numb. This entire time, every single second, he had been there. Knowing. Listening and watching through your own senses. In. Every. Single. Moment. Nothing could be kept secret. What if he was in your very thoughts? No–– he would’ve mentioned that, wouldn’t he?

“No, I cannot read your thoughts.” The timbre of his tone caused a shiver to travel up your spine as you straightened up, snapping out of your stupor. If he was telling the truth, which he must’ve been, then he was just very very good at reading others. “As powerful as I may be, I am not omniscient.”

Carefully gazing up at him, you kept your head down and arms at your side, afraid he would just crush your skull between his digits. “That’s… embarrassing. You’re not, I don’t know, going to turn me into stone or something?”

“I’m presuming that is the fate you fear is waiting for you at the end of this story.” Black nails curled along your strands of hair, his finger tracing down to your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut in awful anticipation. “Well, you need not fret. You have not told me any lies, you carried out your duty well, and found the Princess that my legion of knights couldn’t locate in twenty years. I would be a fool to turn you to stone.” So he could turn people to stone if he wanted to. “Besides, I find you quite amusing. It made me smile, knowing my enemies suffer and hearing your silly squabbling.”

Inwardly you cringed, recalling every little mistake you made since gaining consciousness in this world. Every stumble and fall, every scream or exclamation, the bickering with his precious knight, playing along with his General, joking with the very Prince that was destined to slay him! Even when you openly dealt with Lilia, openly bargaining with his life for some sort of ending that you could live with. Malleus was aware of each and every second. “Even for… you know, making that deal?”

“No, I’m not cross.” Eventually his hand fell back to his side, as the malevolent fae continued to peer down at you. It felt wrong to even breathe within his vicinity. “It’s perfectly within human nature for mortals to claw their way towards redemption. The decisions you have made are primarily for yourself, saving me in the process is merely an unintended consequence. We both know this. Know that I am not shaken by your choice in the slightest. Trust me when I say that I know full well of the sins that humans are willing to commit for their own benefit. I know very well that humans will prioritize themselves over all others.” You felt small under his gaze, as he didn’t even blink once. The cool and collected tone of his became somewhat hushed as he mused, “You were destined to be here beside me, I believe. Perhaps as punishment…”

Slowly you awkwardly nodded along, confirming his last words. “Well, yeah… I’m guessing you heard me say that earlier?”

Neither acknowledging your response nor replying to it immediately, seconds of prolonged silence passed before he spoke. “That was not what I was referring to.” Instead of elaborating on what he truly meant by those words, he seemed to gloss over them as he continued. “Our fates are tied. Allow me to grant you salvation. Should you help me achieve my goal, I will protect you from the end you so fear. Should you try to save me as you have been doing thus far, I shall save you.”

Instantly, without even thinking, you stuck your hand. This was earning you his protection, wasn’t it? You were practically under the guard of one of the most powerful beings in the world! Making deals with fae was supposedly a bad idea. However, you already made one deal. What’s the harm in one more? “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Slowly the fae blinked at your extended arm. “Well… I didn’t expect you to come to such a rapid decision. You continue to surprise me with your choices and human customs. A handshake, hm?” An amused smirk made its way onto his features, but it wasn’t ominous or threatening like the expression he wore when mentioning the King. When his hand reached yours, you half expected some mystical green light of magic to seal your fate. But it didn’t happen. Instead, the fae held your hand in a firm grip as he proceeded thoughtfully. “I will not ask personal questions, as you seemed quite adamantly against so much as mentioning your true name when my General asked. Although I must ask you to reveal your plan, besides charming the human Prince.”

Maybe it was due to the fact that he knew your life was now practically intertwined with his, this provided any reassurance that you wouldn’t betray him along with the extra comfort that he heard and saw everything you do. At this point, personal information would be of little use to him.

If you wanted your own happily ever after, it would require sabotaging the protagonists and changing the entire end of the story. As you considered your next words, you attempted to pull your hand away from his, only for his iron grip to never falter. “Ah, well, originally the Princess returns to the castle since the curse is almost expired. There, you’re supposed to appear in her chambers when she’s alone, and lure her towards a spinning wheel where she pricks her finger and fulfills the curse. Might I say, I would be very tempted too if I was the Princess and you appeared like that in my chambers–– Anyways! Around the same time, you capture the Prince as he went to the now abandoned cottage to meet with the mysterious girl, the Princess, he met in the woods earlier. But, I may have messed up that last part, ha…”

After listening to your explanation, Malleus finally let go of your hand. Never did he disrupt, but he listened very very carefully, eyes boring into yours the entire time even as you nervously glanced away every few moments. “I see… It seems this human Prince, Silver, as he’s called, is quite naive. This truth can be said for most young mortals. I do find his hope for peace to be endearing, even if it seems like nothing but a fantasy.”

Malleus knew about Silver. Of course he did. The fae was probably watching like a hawk as you interacted with the future son-in-law of his sworn enemy. It was a bit of a relief to hear that the fae sovereign didn’t see Silver as an immediate threat, for now at least. Now if only you could appeal to his greater nature, the kindness Sebek claimed his Majesty was capable of. “Maybe we can, possibly, now this is just a thought here–– spare him?”

Malleus was silent for a long moment, and for a second you feared you may have upset him–– that is until the top of his scepter was against your chin. The smooth end with the cold orb glowing that ominous green, propped up your chin so you couldn’t look away. “Anyone that is willing to extend a hand to me or mine will be rewarded, but know this: I will never trust another human again, not fully. You are the one exception to this, my courier. So I expect you to answer the following. Who is the one that is destined to drive a sword through my heart?”

That tone of voice sent a shiver throughout your entire body. Once again, you felt small, weak, helpless against the fae as he was peering down at you so intensely. It’s clear he wanted an answer, and he wanted it now. “The… uh… Prince–– but with the help of the three good fairies!” As if mentioning the three good fairies would help his case, now that the fae was fully aware that Silver was the one fated to slay him.

“Now that does contemplate things. So, you implore me to spare the very mortal meant to end my life? That is quite the request.” Malleus mused, his scepter lowering from your neck as you felt you could finally breathe again. For a moment, the fae lowered his gaze in deep contemplation. It felt like hours of tense silence, as you wondered if he would be agitated that you would suggest such a thing. In reality, it was probably a full minute at most when he lifted his hand to his lower face in contemplation. “Those irritating little pixies will likely defy any orders from me in order to protect the Prince. The three alone are far too weak to do anything of significant value on their own… Is the Prince the only one who works against me?”

“Technically, yes.” In the story, everyone was placed to sleep too by the three fairies, or pixies, or whatever they were in this rendition. The only one left awake was the Prince. “I think the only reason the Prince in the story stood a chance was because he had the help of the pixies. Everyone else is placed to sleep like the Princess.”

Malleus nodded to himself, appearing to come up with some sort of arrangement to overcome the obstacles. “Then, I trust this task to you, my courier. While I appear in the Princess’ chambers to lead her to her terrible fate, General Lilia will be in charge of confronting the three pixies, and my Knight Sebek will be responsible for safely guarding you as you convince Prince Silver to abandon any notion of defending the Princess or the King.”

Immediately your eyes widened, as you fumbled over your words, “Y-You want me to convince him to switch sides?”

“Something along those lines, yes. The Prince will be of little use to them anyways. True love, the requirement to break the curse I placed upon the Princess, doesn’t exist. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, designed to give the King a sense of false hope so he would fall further into despair when his daughter never awoke. At least, she wouldn’t awake within his lifetime.” Malleus nodded in confirmation. Despite the heavy topic of the conversation that consisted of deceit and possible murder, the fae actually gave a smile. A teasing and wicked one as he hummed, “You wished for me to spare Prince Silver, did you not? This should be an easy task for you. As I recall you said earlier, you have already charmed the Prince. Perhaps I should be jealous of Silver, hm?”

Why did you have to go and open your big mouth? Why did you have to try and be kind by wanting to save someone that was practically a stranger!? This was bad. Silver wouldn’t leave innocents like that. All you could do was lower your head in your hands and grumble, “I’ll… figure something out.”

“I’m sure you will.” A deep laughter rumbled from his chest, and although you couldn’t see it, you were sure he was still wearing that smug grin. There was some sort of look in his eyes, something not so menacing, more endearing, but equally as chilling. “The last time I trusted a mortal with my life, it resulted in this entire debacle. I’m certain you won’t betray me as well, hm?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The same evening, hours before the sun would set and the curse would be broken, you penned a short and brief letter to Silver. With a wave of his hand, Malleus’ magic whisked it away to be delivered instantly. The message was simple: Meet me at the moor’s borders by the wall of thorns as soon as you can. Signed, the courier.

You still had no idea how you would go about convincing Silver to essentially abandon the King and Princess. While you were contemplating if it was even possible to save this person from facing Malleus’ wrath, you were not at all comforted when Lilia appeared downright delighted to be the one facing the three pixies. It was a tad bit concerning, especially since he went on about having not seen them properly in over two decades and how they had always been a pesky bunch that favored the humans over their own kin. You were not envious of the three in the slightest, especially when you caught sight of Lilia humming to himself as he polished his green cleaver to a brilliant shine. Those poor pixies would have to deal with the General.

Sebek was hardly any better. While not outright threatening, he droned on and on about what a privilege it was to personally be assigned a task by His Majesty. Which made it difficult for you to keep calm when he spoke of Malleus every single minute, and made it almost impossible for you to focus on the task at hand.

“––and so you see, because of that wretched human who betrayed Master Malleus to become the king of the human kingdom, our esteemed leader has been wary of all humans and their activities ever since then.” Sebek explained, gripping the reins as he led the way on horseback, with your steed not lingering too far behind. “So the fact that Malleus is willing to offer an olive branch towards the betrothed of the daughter of his enemy, is nothing short of a gift! A mercy granted to a human who likely isn’t worthy of such a thing.”

As soon as they reached the thorns, the wall seemed to come alive as its vines and branches slithered like snakes. Creating a temporary path for them to pass through without risk of being impaled by giant thorns. Meaning one thing: Malleus was currently watching.

“Okay then, since you understand how important that is, that means you know not to act out right? I know the Prince is human and all, and I know how you feel about humans, but let me do the talking.” You pleaded as both horses came to a halt right outside the towering barriers.

“Tsk, please, I am not so uncouth to– OW!”

Upon spotting a flash of white and silver through the foliage of the forest, you kicked part of the knight’s leg to shut him up. Before he could open his mouth again, you hopped off your horse and worked your way through the underbrush as you came to a small clearing. There, by the stream, was the Prince standing beside his own noble steed that drank from the clean waters. The backdrop of the forest and setting sun already dipping below the horizon, reminded you of how little time was left.

The Prince must’ve picked up on the sound of rustling and crunching leaves, because he lifted his head towards the source of the noise. When his enchanting gaze met yours, he smiled such a gentle smile and took a step toward you. “Courier.” However, Silver paused, freezing in place as he looked a bit taken aback at the sight of the knight appearing at your side. A fae, a being he’s never met before.

“Heyyy, Silver. This is my friend Sebek.” Awkwardly you gestured to the knight, giving the fae a look that basically said please, for the love of his Master Malleus, keep his mouth shut for now. “Sebek, this is Silver, local prince and prettiest human I’ve ever met.”

Sebek looked anything but pleased. It was then you realized that this may have been his first time actually properly meeting a human, as the fae looked a bit uncomfortable. Instead of saying anything, the knight merely crossed his arms and managed a terse, “Pleasure.” Not even a full, it’s a pleasure to meet you.

This didn’t deter the Prince, or perhaps it went entirely over his head, as he managed a regal nod. Despite the fact that his expression reverted to his usual apathetic nature, there was an unmistakable sparkle in his eyes. Maybe this would work out well after all.

“It’s very nice to meet you. Any friend of the Courier’s is a friend of mine.” Silver appeared genuinely intrigued, pleased to meet a fae. Any shock melted away into a friendly demeanor as he approached, “I had to sneak out of the palace just to be here, but I’m very glad I did. Did you really remember my words and bring me here for this? I’m touched, Courier.”

Part of you grimaced as you exchanged knowing looks with Sebek, who thankfully remained silent for now. The knight merely glanced back at the royal before looking back at you, and he gestured with his head as if saying go on.

“Something like that.” You spoke, mustering a smile as Silver stopped so he was right in front of you and Sebek. Despite knowing that fae were labeled as enemies, Silver didn’t appear fazed in the slightest. That was bound to change as soon as you opened your mouth. Hey, so my boss is about to complete a curse on your fiancée that’ll put her to sleep for who knows how long and three pixies are bound to put the rest of the kingdom to sleep too while a fae General will prevent them from reaching you at all, but I’m gonna have to ask you to come with us if you want to live. You couldn’t just say that! Fumbling for some sort of response, you began awkwardly, “So… you wanted to meet some fae, right?”

“Of course.” Silver replied immediately, giving Sebek the slightest smile as he spoke softly and sincerely. “It’s a great honor to have this opportunity. Perhaps by talking more with you, Sebek, and explaining to everyone that I met a fae and all went well, it can change their mind and cause some good to happen.”

Sebek appeared a bit flustered, unaccustomed to praise from a mortal as the knight looked at you for some sort of support. Probably not even expecting it. Quickly, you interjected, “That is great, because I have the perfect opportunity for you. I never told you, because, well, interacting with fae is generally frowned upon by humans but I happen to know the Malleus! I bet I can even get you an audience with him.”

“You would do that for me?” The Prince’s eyes widened, his naturally soft voice raised ever so slightly.

“Excuse us!” Sebek’s eyes widened in alarm as he covered his mouth, hissing in your ear as he pulled you away, “What are you doing, you presumptuous fool…?! This was not part of the strategy outlined by the General! You are supposed to convince the human to join us willingly!”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you exclaimed quietly, “I am…!” Looking over at Silver, you could see the Prince was puzzled but was respectful and kept his distance. Those eyes of his looking up at the nearby wall of thorns as he waited patiently to be included in the conversation. “Look, he’ll thank me later. He’ll come with us because he wants to speak to Malleus, he thinks he can build diplomatic relations. Let him think that! As long as the pixies can’t get to him, Silver isn’t a real threat to Malleus. Hell, we can even convince Lilia to take him in, I really don’t care, as long as he doesn’t interact with the pixies.”

“That’ll hardly be an issue. Knowing General Lilia, he’s likely thoroughly dealt with the pixies. They’ve been a thorn in the Master’s side for over a century.” Sebek straightened his posture, folding his arms behind his back as he lifted his chin to appear taller. “Just remember, I am your ally. He is not.”

“Whatever.” Perhaps this was better. If Lilia had permanently dealt with the pixies, then there was no one else to use magic and bless the Prince with a holy sword and shield. There was no other way to defeat The Master of All Evil. It was practically game over, wasn’t it? Turning back to Silver, just as you opened your mouth to speak, a deep and familiar voice echoed from behind you.

“My courier, is this the Prince you’ve spoken so highly about?”

You felt your heart drop as Sebek dropped to his knees in a reverent kneel, and even Silver appeared taken aback by the sudden presence of the being that appeared feet away from you. Looking over your shoulder, there he was, hidden in the shadows cast by the trees. You took a step to the side, careful of Sebek, as you made room for The Master of All Evil. When did he get there? “Yeah–– Yes, it is.”

Malleus approached, seeming to float as he walked, his robes blending in with the shadows that grew longer and the sky darker as the sun had completely set. Why was he here already? Was it done? Had he actually completed the curse on the Princess in such a short time? A realization came to you, which made you freeze. Surely Silver knew how Malleus cursed his fiancée.

Stepping closer, the fae appeared to take in the sight of the Prince. Silver leaned back a bit, surprised, but seemingly unafraid. They were complete opposites. Silver appeared to embody light and virtue as he was like a warm spring day, while Malleus embodies the cold darkness like the depths of space that swallowed everything in its path. “My courier tells me you wish to establish peace. Such a lofty goal, I’m afraid, but inspiring. Do you not fear me for what I’ve done? You were there that day, as I recall.”

“I was hoping to ask you to lift the curse.” Silver glanced at you, before returning his attention back to the fae. Despite the fact that he was in front of a being countless times older than him and far more powerful than anything on Earth, the Prince continued, “It’s true, I also want to establish relations. I believe it can do good for both our peoples. But first, my concern is the curse. Although I haven’t truly met the Princess I’m supposed to wed, I’d like to appeal for the curse to be lifted. She is innocent.”

“What a noble request. Very well, we’ll talk.” Malleus straightened his stance, standing tall even above the Prince. Exchanging a glance with you, there was a knowing glint in his green eyes as he then commanded, “Sebek, rise. Escort our guest, gently, my knight. Gently.”

Silver appeared quick to believe Malleus, perhaps truly hoping that he would be able to make peace with the fae and get that terrible curse lifted. When the knight stood up to lead the way for the Prince, Silver paused to spare a look over his shoulder as he led his steed along. When his gaze landed on you, you witnessed his entire demeanor soften as he managed a grateful nod. It made you feel a pang of guilt.

Only once the Prince and Knight had disappeared past the wall of thorns, did Malleus turn to you and admit with a flicker of amusement. “Quite the peculiar human you found, my courier.”

“Someone’s in a good mood.” You note, taking notice of the twinkle in his glowing eyes and the ominous smile on his face that had yet to falter. That had to mean something. Normally he was unsmiling, so it was jarring to see him like this. “Don’t tell me you already…?”

“I did.” Malleus confirmed with a brief nod, looking quite pleased with himself.

The confirmation only made you shudder. You knew it would happen. Still, there was a bit of regret you felt deep within your bones. Although, surely it couldn’t be that bad. It’s not like the Princess was murdered. It was just a deep sleep where she would wake up in the future. “And what do you plan to do with Prince Silver?”

“I told him we would talk. That is the truth. However, I never said I would lift the curse.” A moment passed, and then he proceeded, watching as the thorns slithered back into place to create that impenetrable barrier protecting his lands. “Since you failed to truly convince him, you merely tricked him into stepping into foreign territory, I’ve conjured a suitable alternative. Allowing him to roam within the moors and enchanted forest has little consequence when General Lilia had took it upon himself to rid the world of those three pixies before they could place the human kingdom to sleep. That way, their King will be awake to anguish and mourn his loss, and yet he will find no one to appease his distress. There are not any other magic users that would be willing to act in favor of the Prince or Princess for the King.” In the cold wind, strands of his pitch black hair fluttered and the emerging moon cast a heavenly sort of glow. “The Prince wanted to meet the fae, so let him. He’ll stay. Should he begin to act out, enchantments could be used to make him forget all things troubling him.”

“You’d let him stay as a guest…? Really?” That was shocking, considering that in the story, the Prince was kept as a temporary prisoner in a dungeon with heavy chains and stone cold walls trapping him underneath the ground. However, maybe his current fate wasn’t so different from that if enchantments would be used to keep him confined within fae territory. “You know what, nevermind, that makes sense.”

“Hmm… in addition, I thought the human prince would serve as a good distraction. The General finds human nature to be more accepting of his attempts at humor, the Knight seeks a rival in strength which the Prince is capable of. It seems like a natural fit.”

With a curl of his finger, some invisible force dragged you closer to him, despite your squirming, it didn’t stop until you were an inch apart and his shadow loomed over yours. Those glowing green eyes that were the bane of many, leered down at you.

“Which allows you to spend more time with me and solely me. I was betrayed once by a human before, I’m sure you’ve figured this out already. This time, it shall not happen again, I have made sure of it. As naive as you may be, I know you are not so foolish to ever turn on me, especially upon seeing the extent I go to in order to exact revenge upon those who wronged me… So, for your loyalty, I will reward you with lavish riches, wondrous glory, and my undivided attention. Is there anything else your heart desires, my Precious Courier?”

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elf-kid2 · 4 months ago

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Alright, I know there are bigger things to think about, but LOOK AT THIS!

This is the first time we've EVER seen Stella wearing anything less than a full ballgown. Also, note the fact that she and her brother are both still wearing their crowns, even while doing an at-home spa-day thing.

Now, regarding the staff-- Three of these people worked for Stolas & Stella.

The forth imp present is from Andrealphus's staff.

They've all had their uniforms updated to suite Andrealphus's recent rise to power. And they're all looking VERY STRESSED, right now!

We've talked before about how Stolas's treatment of his staff... could be better.

We've also talked about how Stolas most likely did his best to moderate Stella's temper-- either through appeasement, or through making himself her main target, or both-- mostly for the sake of protecting Octavia.

But now, the ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD has to deal with Stella and Andrealphus encouraging and escalating each other's problematic tendancies, without Stolas there to act as a buffer.

Seriously, the way the Butler's eyes are darting around, the look on his face-- I'm not sure we've EVER seen him this stressed before! Even when his Boss was having a very loud emotional crisis and hiding in the FRIDGE, he wasn't this stressed out!

Done with the melodramatic royal bullshit making a mess, but not that legit scared for his life kinda stressed!

Now let's remember, these people have had a front-row seat for everything going on with their employers-- Stolas & Stella's trashfire marriage. Stella's extremely open disdain for her (now-EX) husband. Stolas's affair, and how it escalated from a monthly booty-call, to the current situation...

Also. I want to mention the fact that Stolas's ongoing attempts to reach Octavia throughout the month are the only proof she has that he's still alive, after having been banished & left with only the clothes on his back.

Again. The nobility only know that Stolas is still alive because Stella won't stop gossiping about his hilarious attempts to call & talk to his daughter.

I'm hoping that we get to see some stuff from the perspective of the Imp Staff at the Palace. If not in canon, then in fanfic. Because they know ALL the gossip, and I'm very curious about what the situation looks like-- what BLITZ looks like-- from their point of view.

#helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #sinsmas spoilers #stella goetia #andrealphus #imps #helluva boss imps #palace staff #the maids know everything #servant gossip #what do they think?#what will they say?

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aurorialwolf · 18 hours ago

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Bro’s not at liberty for anything at all ever

What's your type?

I'm not at liberty to answer that question.

#not going to try too many non canon interactions with imp!Aria pfft so I’ve been banished to main

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sopphic27 · 4 months ago

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Been thinking about the parallels between Lucifer and Stolas. Like. Lucifer was an odd one out among the angels, Stolas was an odd one out among the Goetia.

Lucifer fell in love with a human and was cast out of Heaven for giving the humans the gift of free will, and Stolas fell in love with an imp, and was cast down from his status as a Prince by basically implying that Blitz was not acting of his own free will.

They're both dreamers. They're both depressed. They've both split up with their wives (granted for very different reasons). They both have complicated relationships with their daughters. They would still kill or die for their daughters.

I think that if Lucifer found out about Stolas's situation (what really happened, not the fake version that was presented during the trial), he would probably see himself in Stolas. Can you imagine if Lucifer learned about the Goetic Prince who was banished for protecting his imp lover? Deja vu. Sucks that he wasn't at the trial. Idk how differently it would have gone since Andrealphus had the whole court wrapped around his finger with the exception of Vassago, Asmodeus, and Beelzebub. But still.

#helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss mastermind #mastermind spoilers #helluva boss stolas #stolas helluva boss #stolas #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #parallels #character analysis #hellaverse #vivziepop

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urproblematicfav-arsonk · 3 months ago

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So pretending Viv didn't retcon her own fucking lore drop on twitter by being like "omg!! If it wasn't obvioussssss, he was lying. Silly guy. Isn't the sin of WRATH such a egoistical, self absorbed PRIDEFUL guy"—

I'm very into this idea that Satan, and the Imps and all the Hellborn are the indigenous people of Hell.

Which would mean, that Lucifer got banished to a foreign land, immediately claimed ownership of it, allowed/told his wife to manipulate everyone with her singing, and then proceeded to flood Hell with human Sinner's that he also made legally above all the Hellborn. And then got...bored?? And quit actively being king to go make ducks and emotionally abuse his daughter.

Like, holy shit is Lucifer being a metaphor for white colonialism fucking INSANE. The running assumption (and Viv's bullshit on twitter) has been that Lucifer and the other Sin's were together as a group. That the circus theme, and the rings, and the Goetia was just the world they built. But, if Satan and the Sin's were just the indigenous people who lived there, that sure as fuck makes the circus theme more creepy?

Circuses have historically been horrifying displays of human cruelty. Human trafficking, the buying and selling of people with dwarfism as toys or pets, physical torture and extreme conditions, racisim, rape, animal abuse, just like...bad stuff. There were probably some circuses that were fine, but the vast majority of the time it wasn't done humanely or with any dignity to the people performing.

Lucifer, showed up and just like, forced the Sin's into a Circus they didn't want to be apart of? The Circus isn't a thing anymore, because Lucifer isn't as into it, and all of the Sin's seem perfectly fine not doing it anymore.

Thing is, who the fuck was this Circus for?

The only thing I can think of is Lucifer wanting to feel in control again after being banished, and trying to establish the Sinner's as the deserving and dominate "race".

He would've forced Queen B to humiliate and abuse her hellhounds to do...tricks and dances on balls or whatever the fuck, to show how lowly and animalistic they are. Hellhounds aren't like Sinner's. Sinner's are just people with animal traits, they're REAL PEOPLE unlike these dogs.

He would've forced Ozzie to make his Hellborn and Imps to do dangerous and unnecessary acts. The big difference between Hellborn and Sinner's, is that the Hellborn can actually die. So when the Sinner's see a Imp fall from a trapeze act, or end up set on fire and hurt, they'll see that they're inherently better because they aren't that frail. And again, historically circuses had a lot of human trafficking, sex, labor or otherwise. Ozzie runs the sex industry, and I wouldn't be surprised if there was overlap there in the start.

Mamm and Levi seem to be on the infrastructure side, building and maintaining the society and rings everyone lives on. We KNOW that Imps and Hellborn are underprivileged and lack resources. Hellhounds are forced into shelters where they're thrown out the second the little social funding they have runs out. Imps are basically constantly struggling, and never seem to have stable lives. I wouldn't be surprised if most of the support and care that the Hellborn need are being used to "fix" the "overpopulation" issue that Lucifer caused.

And Satan. Holy shit is forcing Satan, the original king to Hell, and the creator of the main indigenous peoples of Hell, to be the fucking "Law" absolutely horrifying. The fact that Satan is in such a high position of power(supposedly) and he's here, making an "example" of a Imp to get the bureaucracy off his ass and move on with his life. Well, if the god of Imps says that they're all disgusting rapists who are after the poor, innocent white Goetia then that must be true!!!! HORRIFYING. WHAT THE FUCK.

Lucifer forced the original gods of Hell to debase, and humiliate their peoples for the entertainment of his Sinner's, and then got fucking bored and left the circus to hide away in his castle. No wonder Ozzie is a consent freak and B is so concerned about people self harming.

There's a world, where Hazbin Hotel actually takes RISKS, and tries to do something interesting. But Viv backtracks every time. And also would never allow her villian characters to be...ya know....villainous. But Luci can't do more then be kinda a little abusive to his daughter but only in a sad way, otherwise he's not a gooodddd guyyyyyy nooooooo.

Anyway, I'm very attached to this indigenous Satan au. Fuck Lucifer, give the Imps their fucking land back you colonizing bitch, and let Satan be the king of Pride again. And stop forcing them to fucking celebrate your dad's son by claiming it's actually just about celebrating youuuu and your sinnn. Shut the fuck up you goddamn weirdo.

#idk where exactly the Goetia fit. if they're like the hellborn or if they came with Lucifer. im leaning to luci tho #this also works under the assumption that the rest of the hellborn are a product of lilith as the mother of demons #but thats ehh #normal hellborn might not be like the actual creations of Lilith idk #god i hate sinsmas #i hate so much fantasy cuz it just assumes so much of Christianity and colonialism is just....how it all works?? thats just how culture is?#stop adding Christmas to things i hate you #its like no one can imagine a world where modern Christian capitalism DOESN'T EXIST #why does every fantasy world have a Christmas equivalent #the toymaker luci au I've been rotating with the council fuks so hard y'all dont even know #this has absolutely been added to the show lion!au #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel lucifer #helluva boss #helluva boss critical #helluva boss satan #racisim #colonialism

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jayaury · 5 months ago

Text

Marked for Love

Another short story from the archive. Plenty more on you know where! https://www.patreon.com/JayAury

Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.

Cynthia Spellman bit her lower lip as she looked in the cracked mirror, her robe hiked up, baring her slim stomach, her lacy panties and, more importantly, the red mark like an elaborate heart tattooed on her mons. Throbbing.

Pulsing.

Beating with an insidious heat that wormed its way through her and to her core.

She groaned aloud. Ohhhh dammit. Dammit dammit dammit! She knew they should have recruited a priest into the party when delving into the Demon’s Dungeon. If only she’d been able to torch that imp to ash before the bitch got off that spell. Because Cynthia knew the curse mark she was looking at. Any mage would.

A breeding rune.

She swore again. An insidious mark, and one with only a 2% chance of landing. Honestly, she hadn’t thought any demons would be stupid enough to cast it. But that imp had looked awfully pleased with herself, right before Cynthia blasted the little harlot back to the pit that spawned her.

But the damage had been done.

And she was stuck with it.

Cynthia chewed on her lip worriedly. What she needed to do was get it dispelled, asap. Because a breeding rune was one of the more sinister magics. It enchanted a woman to desire a man to cum in her by any means. To be filled with seed and quicken with child. Which was bad enough, but the real danger was the longer she held out, the more the curse would change her in order to get what she needed. Corrupting her body and soul until she was just a demonic trollop begging for a good dicking. Not a problem if she got the curse banished. But if she ended up giving in, she’d be locked into whatever state she was in when she finally got that much needed fucking.

And how in the hells was she supposed to explain that?

A knock sounded at the door. “Cynthia? You okay?”

Cynthia squeaked, dropping her skirt hastily. “F-fine Roland!” she called. “Just fine! Just… just making sure this new hood fits! That’s all.”

“Alright. But be careful. We’re not out of this dungeon yet.”

Gods, and didn’t she know it. She felt again a flush. They’d delved pretty deep into the dungeon today, and the way out was quite far. But she felt sure she could manage it. The curse would take time to take effect. Honestly, she could last a few hours without jumping Roland’s bones. Fine bones that they were. Making the knight so big and strong and tanky. Always ready to take a hit for her. Let her do her stuff. So protective and sweet and…

She felt the heat within her stir and grow and she quickly shook her head. Get it together, girl! All she had to do was last a few hours and she could get out of the dungeon and head straight to the nearest temple to get the curse removed. For brief moment she considered telling Roland, but instantly dismissed the idea. The thought of admitting such an embarrassing thing appalled her. She couldn’t tell him she’d done something as silly as getting cursed by some low-level imp. Not to mention he’d ask to see it. Ask if he could do anything for her, because he was such a good man. A kind man. A sweet, lovable, hunk of man who would be such a gentle lover and…

She groaned and slapped her cheeks again. Focus, girl. Focus! Turning on her heel, she marched to the door and opened it abruptly.

Roland waited on the other side, and just the sight of his handsome, worried face almost melted her legs out from under her with a sudden needy heat that shot from her core. Blonde hair curled about his face. A broad build confined by his heavy armour, a large shield and sword sheathed on his back, and an expression of genuine concern, he was what every mage dreamed their tank would be.

“Did you try on the hood?” he asked.

“Hm? Hood? O-oh! Yes. Mhmm. Yes, absolutely. It ah, it didn’t boost my stats quite as much as I’d hoped. Haha!”

“That’s a shame,” he said, his eyes wandering down to her chest. “But uh, why are you leaving your robe a bit open like that?”

Cynthia looked down in surprise, realizing her collar was a bit undone, revealing a hint of her bust. “Oh, yes, that. Just… been feeling a bit hot in here. Thought I might get more air circulating. Cool myself a bit. Not a big deal.”

“If you say so,” Roland said, though she couldn’t help but notice that his eyes lingered on the teasing hint of her breasts. A sensation of amused triumph thrilled through her, but she quickly tamped it down.

“Let’s get going!” she declared, quickly passing him. “Gotta get above ground soon. Can’t delay!”

“Oh, yes. Um, right. Of course,” she heard Roland say, then the reassuring clank of his armour as he followed her. Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief, focusing on the present and what she needed to do. Just keep moving. Just keep going.

And try to ignore how comfortable it felt to put a bit of wiggle into her walk.

Gods, why was it so hot!

Cynthia groaned as she sat on a rock, feeling the heat like her clothes were stuffed with burning coals. With every step she’d been feeling the curse mark pulse on her mons, threading more of its feverish warmth through her. Roland had gone to scout ahead for a bit, giving her a blessed opportunity to take a break. Gods, but she just needed a bit of relief. Just a little bit to get further.

She hesitated, reaching for the enchanted bell on the collar of her robe. She knew she shouldn’t adjust her clothes. But if she did nothing, she’d pass out from heatstroke before reaching the surface. And if she did, then Roland would surely check on her. Maybe undress her. Then he’d see that mark and think she was a dumb bimbo and… and…

She grimaced and tightened her lips. Reluctantly, she touched the bell on her collar, gripped it, and willed a bit of relief.

Almost at once the fabric around her chest loosened, stretching and exposing more of her cleavage. She sighed with satisfaction, sagging a bit. Gods, that was so much better! But she still felt warm. Blushing a bit, she willed the sides of her robe to open, creating long slits that left only a strap of cloth covering her mons and ass. Somewhat scandalous, true, but there was no denying it was far more comfortable.

And… dare she say, cute?

She looked down at her chest and a worried frown marred her face. Was it just her, or was she… bigger? She cupped her chest, and had to bite her lip to suppress a sudden moan from escaping her. Oh… oh gosh, that… that felt good. So… so sensitive.

In fact, it was kind of hard to stop.

Stop feeling her big, soft chest. Giving it a bounce. A squeeze. Ohhhh, that felt gooood. She squirmed, legs rubbing together. But… but what would feel even better would be getting a big, studly, strong man to fill his loving hands with her big breasts. A man like…

”Roland,” she breathed.

“C-Cynthia?”

She squeaked, snatching her hands back and looking up in shock to find the knight standing at the end of the tunnel, staring at her in amazement.

“Roland!” Cynthia exclaimed, bounding quickly to her feet, and as she did, she caught his eyes riveting to her chest as her breasts bounced in her top. A feeling of satisfaction filled her, but she dutifully ignored it. “What um, what did you find?” she asked.

Roland seemed to shake himself, blinking as he looked back up at her. “Find? Oh, yes. It seems clear ahead. Looks like the ah, monsters haven’t respawned yet.”

“Wonderful!” Cynthia said, snatching up her staff. “Then we should get going, shouldn’t we?”

“Er, yes. We should. But uh, Cynthia, your clothes. They look…”

“Oh! That,” she giggled, giving a quick twirl. “Do you like it?”

“I um…”

“Just getting a bit of cooler air. So hot down here, right?”

“It is?”

“Absolutely!” she said, smiling encouragingly. “So hot. Gets me all sweaty and warm. Just needed to, you know, get a bit of airflow going. Right? Anyway! No time to waste. Better get back on the move.”

“I… guess,” Roland said uncertainly.

“Exactly! Let’s go,” Cynthia exclaimed, bounding past him, trying to suppress the knowledge of how good it felt to have that strip of cloth swishing between her thighs. The way the silk stroked her panties and slick mound.

But she also noticed the way Roland watched her breasts bounce in her tight top as she went by.

And maybe she enjoyed that gaze a bit more than was proper…

Hells but her migraine was just killing her.

Cynthia groaned, rubbing her temples.

“You sure you’re okay?” Roland asked her.

“Fine,” she sighed. “Just fine. Have a little headache, that’s all.”

“Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

Bend me over this fucking rock and rail me until I’m begging you to stuff me with your fucking stud baby batter!

Through an incredible force of will, Cynthia managed to not scream that out. But she needed some relief. The heat in her was coiling its insidious tentacles all through her, and she needed SOMETHING to take the fucking pressure off.

Her eyes slid back to Roland.

“Actually,” she said slowly, rolling her shoulders with a pained expression. “I’m feeling so… stiff at the moment. And you have those wonderfully talented hands. I was thinking maybe you could give me a quick massage.”

“A massage?” he said uncertainly.

“Yeah,” she said, already warming to the idea. Well, her body was anyway. Just the thought of getting those strong hands on her made the tension coiling in her ease just a bit. “Just a bit. Help me relax.”

“Of course,” the knight said, beaming that lovable smile of his as he took off his gauntlets. Cynthia bit her lip. Gods, just the sight of that goofy smile made her want to cram his head between her thighs and ride his tongue to a dozen screaming orgasms.

But she’d take what she could get. And as he moved around and sat down behind her, she tried not to shiver at the smell of him. That sweet medley of leather and sweat and manliness.

And that was before she felt his hands on her shoulders.

“Ohhhhh,” she groaned, arching.

He paused. “You okay?”

“Better than ever,” she sighed.

“I haven’t even started.”

“Then don’t wait,” she fairly growled. “Get those strong fingers in there.”

“Sorry?”

“Just… please, start.”

She stifled a moan as his fingers began to gently knead her shoulders, soon growing more confident at the familiar motions. Cynthia exhaled heavily, her eyes drifting half-shut as she enjoyed his touch. His wonderful, gentle yet firm touch. Gods, those fingers were incredible. She could actually feel herself start to drift away, even the headache easing.

“Is that good?” Roland asked.

“Wonderful,” she breathed, sinking back against his touch. Oh gods it was so good. “Lower.”

She felt his touch slide over her shoulders. “Like that?”

“Oh yessss,” she groaned, shivering in ecstasy, her toes curling in her shoes. “Just… mnnn… like that. Maybe… maybe a bit lower.”

She felt him hesitate, then obey. She was breathing deeper. Heavier. That was good. That was nice…

“You smell good,” Roland murmured.

A smile stole across her lips at his dreamy voice. “Thank you. Perfume… perfume is new. And lower, Roland.”

“L-lower?”

“Please,” she panted, wriggling.

Again that moment of hesitation. Then his hands slid down. Slid over the gentle curves of her chest.

Oh gods yes.

A soft moan escaped her as she arched, pushing her breasts into his uncertain hands. Hands that began to grow more confident. Slow. Gentle. Pumping and squeezing her breasts in ways that made her whimper and gasp in helpless pleasure.

Oh gods.

Oh gods that was so good.

She could feel the heat that had been torturing her dull to a pleasant throb. Swelling up into her head, filling it with a hazy warmth. Her headache easing into clouds of euphoric pleasure as her hips lazily rocked.

“Just like that,” she breathed, her free hand stealing between her thighs, a jolt of delight racing through her as she touched herself, the silky strip between her legs offering no protection to her hyper-sensitive pussy. “Oh Roland…”

“So soft,” he breathed, his face nearly buried in her luxurious hair, his hands still massaging and adoring her breasts. His warm breath panting against the back of her neck.

Oh gods yes.

“Roland,” she moaned, her finger pressing against her pussy, stroking herself through her dress and panties. Higher. Higher.

“Cynthia,” she heard him gasp behind her, his hands skilled and adoring as they bounced and massaged her soft breasts. She squirmed in delight, hot pants escaping her in rushes, her ass grinding back against him, feeling the bulge in his pants.

“Roland. Roland,” she whimpered, her finger strumming herself harder. Pleasure sparking through her in bursts, the cloudiness in her head concentrating. The pressure throbbing. Feeling so good. So wonderful. So… so…

“Mnnnnnn!” she cried out, quivering as she came, her juices staining her filmy panties and the strip of her robe, her muscles tightening in shameful ecstasy, the pressure in her head releasing in a sudden burst of euphoria that washed her in a wave of bliss.

She sighed happily, leaning back against Roland, who merely moaned softly, still gently massaging her plump teats. A sensation that ached through her wonderfully. Gods but it felt good. Gods it all felt so… so fucking good…

Why hadn’t she done this before?

As that idle thought swam through her mind, she felt another urgent throb from the place above her mons. She lifted her head numbly, and felt a strange weight on her brow. Vaguely, she reached up, touching her forehead.

Feeling a pair of bumps.

Her eyes snapped open in horror. Horns. Oh fuck, she had horns! Her formerly wonderful pleasure vanished like a flash of pink steam.

“Cynthia?”

She looked down in shock at the hands on her breasts and bolted suddenly to her feat, then slapped her palm to her forehead, turning away so Roland couldn’t see her front. “Er, yes! Thank you, Roland. Wonderful job. Very um, good. I’m just gonna go, er, freshen up a bit real quick. Be right back!”

“Wha-”

Before he could object she hurried back around the corridor’s corner and covered her face with her hands. Oh gods. Oh gods, did she really do that? Did she really just get Roland to play with her fat cow tits while she masturbated on his lap?

Yes.

Yes she did.

And it had been amazing.

She felt her blush warm herself anew, even as she berated her response. Gods, the curse’s heat was already back! It was like she hadn’t even gotten a moment of relief from it. But it was fine. It was fine. She could fix this. Just… just get out of the dungeon and find a priest who could dispel the curse. Then she’d be back to normal.

Yes.

Just normal.

So normal she’d never have done anything like that. Let Roland massage her sensitive breasts. Rub her ass against his bulge as she stroked herself to one of the best orgasms she’d ever had.

Totally.

Utterly.

Normal.

Cynthia bit her lip at the thought. She… she did want to be normal again. She was pretty sure of that. No, no. She was absolutely sure of it. Even if it had felt amazing. Even if she’d relished the thrill and the sound of Roland’s voice becoming dim and hazy. As if drunk on her presence. Her beauty. Even if she now had horns which she really needed to cover up. Yes, a hood. That’s what she needed.

And… maybe let the chest out a bit more. All of Roland’s pumping had made her even bustier.

Again she touched the bell on her neck and willed the changes. She sighed in relief as a hood formed from her top, looping over her hair, while an even larger boob window opened in her robe. As she looked herself down, she frowned at a sight below. The strip of fabric between her legs now sported a very apparent stain.

“Gods dammit,” she groaned. Look at that mess. She was NOT wandering through the dungeon with a big stain on the front of her robe. But how to hide it?

A sudden vision entered her mind, and well, it was a bit out of character for her, but why not? She’d be out of the dungeon soon anyway. Another press on the bell folded the strips of cloth between her legs, her robe shrinking even more, hugging her curves in a form-fitting leotard that showed off her every incredible curve. Cynthia smirked and turned this way and that, admiring her bared thighs and curves of her breasts. A perfect hourglass. Gods she was hot. That wasn’t the curse talking. Just… confidence.

Yeah.

Just confidence at being so gorgeous.

Smiling, she turned and went back into the chamber. Roland was still sitting on the rock, bent forward, his head in his hand like he had a headache.

“Ready, Roland?” Cynthia asked.

He looked up, and Cynthia had to bite her lip to keep from smirking at his expression. His jaw positively dropped at the sight of her, the awe in his eyes sending another shot of pure heat into her pussy and tingling through her veins.

“Cynthia,” he gasped. “You…”

“Just needed to let my body breathe a bit more,” Cynthia said coyly, turning this way and that to let him admire her further. “Do you like?”

“You… you look amazing,” he admitted.

Cynthia giggled. “So glad you think so. Now, come on, Roland,” she said, crooking a finger and beckoning. “Let’s get going.”

He rose instantly, and Cynthia felt another thrill at how quickly he obeyed. How his eyes grew dim as he breathed in deeply, as if just the sight and scent of her threatened to drown him in her presence. Arrogant of her to think so, perhaps, but as she turned, leading the way forward, she was hit with the delightful feeling like she was leading a puppy through the black stone halls.

And enjoying every moment of it.

The heat was back.

And strong.

So fucking strong.

It had been okay for a bit, but now the coiling warmth of desire was consuming her like an inferno. Cynthia was blushing, feeling her pulse throb and mons ache as if begging her to bathe her womb in the seed of a man. And it really didn’t help having such a handsome, willing man right behind her. Gods, she just wanted to push him down, kiss him, smother him under her fat tits and grind herself to a dozen orgasms before she even got his fucking pants off.

“Look! The exit.”

The words snapped her from her fantasies. Cynthia raised her head and through the blur of her vision she saw the white glow of the way out. The shining end of the tunnel beckoning her on.

Out.

Out of the dungeon.

Excitement surged within her. Bloomed with euphoria. “Yes!” she gasped. “Yes!”

So overcome, she whirled around and wrapped her arms around a startled Roland, leaned forward, and kissed him adoringly on the lips.

She felt him stiffen reflexively, but then he moaned, his eyes lidding, growing hazy as his lips moved against hers, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her tight against him. Cynthia whimpered in delight as she felt her mound press against his front. Grind against his bulge. Her sensitive breasts rubbing against the steel of his chest.

The kiss deepened. Her tongue pushed into his mouth. Her hands slid up his neck and to his head, her fingers running through his hair as his own arms moved over her back as if tracing every inch of her winsome figure.

More.

She needed more.

The compulsion radiated from her mons. From the mark. She pushed him back and Roland hit the cavern wall. She broke the kiss, panting. Hot. Needy.

“We… we shouldn’t,” she breathed, her hands already moving, finding catches and buckles of armour and stripping them away with uncanny precision.

“Y-yeah. Shouldn’t,” Roland said dimly, offering no resistance as his hands continued to stroke her, tracing the curve of her ass, pressing himself against the tight fabric of her leotard.

“Gotta… gotta resist,” Cynthia panted as she tugged his pants down, her fingers grasping his stiffened cock.

“Nnnn,” Roland groaned.

“Can’t give in,” Cynthia breathed as she sank to her knees, Roland’s cock finally in her hand. Before her eyes. Thick. Throbbing. Begging for her attention. The scent stuffing her nose. Her head. Her tongue teased over her lips. Her mouth opened, and she swallowed him deep.

“Ohhhh!” Roland groaned, head falling back, body jolting with a gasp.

“Mmmm,” Cynthia agreed, her lashes fluttering in ecstasy as she began to bob, her tongue swirling over his tip and length. Gods. Gods above, he tasted so good. So thick and powerful and virile. Her free hand slipped beneath him, cradling his balls, and she could fairly feel his seed churn within them. Stirring from her ministrations. Begging for release.

She’d release him.

Gods she would.

She’d suck him dry. Swallow without missing a drop. Gods, what had taken her so long to do this? How could she have kept herself from pushing him down and just fucking choking herself on his fat cock!? Her throat seemed to accommodate his every inch with uncanny ease. Moaning, bobbing, she sucked him deep, going down to the root, her tongue lathing and wrapping around his manhood with utterly shameless need.

“F-fuck!” Roland gasped, his eyes misty. Foggy. His hands groping down to her head. Cynthia bucked as his fingers pushed aside her hood and wrapped around her horns, the sensation throbbing into her like a bolt of lightning. For a brief moment she felt panic, but glancing up at his face showed Roland didn’t even seem to notice. His eyes were fogged, his mouth open, panting in needy gasps as he pumped into her waiting mouth.

Pheromones. A demon’s trait, now hers from the curse.

And he was utterly drunk on them.

She knew she should feel bad about that, but she didn’t care. She wanted him too much. Too badly. She needed his cum. Needed him. The heat from her mound pulsed in a throbbing beat like drums urging her on. Urging her to suck harder. Massage his balls. Tease and pump him until his face was flushed and desperate gasps were escaping him. Until he was feverishly pumping his cock into her mouth, fucking her face until… until…

“F-fuuuuuuck!” Roland cried out, head thrown back, groaning as he came.

And Cynthia was in heaven.

She moaned, her eyes lidding as the hot heaviness of his load pumped into her mouth, eagerly swallowed down into her stomach. She sucked him gently, relishing every spurt, feeling the swirling delight ache through her.

Gods.

Gods, it was… it was so fucking perfect…

And yet, it wasn’t enough.

Cynthia pulled her lips off his cock, her whole body feeling like it was on fire. Her head throbbing. Thoughts swirling with a single need that she had to satisfy. “More,” she gasped.

“C-Cynthia?” Roland panted, looking down at her blankly, his jaw slack.

She knew he’d do anything she wanted him to. She could tell. He wanted her as bad as she wanted him. And she’d have him. She rose, no longer hesitant. No longer caring of consequences or doubt. Her hand rose, rang the bell on her collar.

Every stitch of clothing seemed to burst from her, baring her glorious figure in all its glory, her skin so flushed it seemed red, her breasts so huge and full they seemed to float upon her chest. Her hips were wide and her legs parted, the curse mark blazing proudly on her body.

Roland stared at her, mouth agape. “What…”

“Don’t question,” she commanded, and he fell silent. Another thrill surged through her as she turned around, bent forward, planting her hands against the far wall, her ass thrust out. “Fuck me, Roland,” she growled, glancing over her shoulder. “Fuck me like you’ve wanted to ever since we met. Fuck me. Mate me. Breed my fucking pussy! I need your cock, Roland. I need it in me. Now!”

Roland stared at her, and oh how her curse mark rewarded her for that stare. That look of helpless lust. Of frantic desire. He came towards her, his hands reaching out, grasping the soft swell of her ample hips. She cried out, cooed as the rewarding heat of her curse mark surged through her again, tingling in her tailbone and back.

“That’s it,” she breathed, waving her rear, smirking as she saw his cock rise, hardening once again at the sight of her needy figure. “Fuck me, Roland. Fuck me hard. Mate me like the slut I am. Just a bitch in heat. Needing your cock. Now fuck me. Fuck me!”

“Yes,” Roland gasped, squeezing her soft rump, aligning his cock with the steamy gash of her pussy. “Yes… mistress…”

For a brief moment that word shocked Cynthia. Raised a doubt in her. She opened her mouth to order him back.

Then he pushed forward.

Filled her.

And hesitation was burned away by the fire of pleasure as she got what she so desperately needed.

“Ohhhhh!” Cynthia cried out, arching, tightening deliciously around the thick cock impaling her. Heat bloomed in her, but no longer tortuous. No. Now it surged in her in a euphoric blast. “Yesss!” she cried out. “Fuck me, Roland. Mate me! Fuck me haaaard!”

“Yes,” Roland panted, not hesitating a beat, beginning to thrust, pumping his cock feverishly into her hot pussy. Driving into her with a desperate urgency, every smack of his hips off her ass sending another throb of pure pleasure rocking her to the core. “Yes! Mistress. Fuck mistress. Fuck her!”

“Yes!” Cynthia cried out, uncaring, lost, relishing the feeling of him finally inside her. Finally giving her what she needed! “Yes! Fuck me. Mate me! Breed me, Roland. Breed your mistress! Mistress ah! Mistress needs your c-cum! Give it to her. Give it to me! Fuck me! Fuck me n-nooooooow!”

Pleasure pounded through her. Throbbed behind her eyes. In her back. In her ass. As she wailed her ecstasy, she felt the pressure burst. Felt a dark tail twist from her rear. Black wings sprout from her back.

“Breed your demon mistress noooooow!” Cynthia howled in triumph.

“Nnnnn!” Roland moaned, filling her a final time, his cock sinking deep inside her as he gave in. Cumming in a sudden rush of his hot seed.

The feeling surged into Cynthia. She wailed in pleasure, her orgasm flowing through her after his. Her pussy tightening, quivering, urging the hot gush of his cum into her womb. Feeling it fill her.

Wake her.

Consume her in bliss.

She moaned, her eyes rolling back, her arms shaking as she felt the curse mark burn itself into her skin. Marking her forever. Glowing like a brand.

And she couldn’t have been happier.

With a shaky breath she stepped forward, unsheathing Roland’s cock from her. The knight fell back onto the ground, his strong chest heaving, his eyes staring at her in worship and hazy love.

Cynthia smirked down at him, her hands lazily stroking her figure, her dark wings fluttering, her tail lashing.

Beautiful, she thought to herself. Utterly beautiful.

“Am I lovely, Roland?” she asked.

“So… so lovely,” he gasped, worshipping her with his eyes.

Cynthia giggled, her hands cupping her breasts, stroking them and sending them bouncing, her fingers tracing down onto her hips. “Mmm. And you’ll love me forever, won’t you? Be my obedient stud forever and ever? Pumping me full of children whenever I want?”

“Yes,” Roland panted. “Yes!”

“Adore me?”

“Yes!”

“Worship me?”

“Yes!”

“Do anything for me?”

“Gods yes!”

Cynthia purred, the desperation in his words filling her with intoxicating power. “Good boy,” she cooed, crooking a finger. “Then get up, lover. It’s time for you to get dressed and head out. There’s a whole wide world out there for us, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” Roland breathed, dragging himself to his feet. “Yes, msitress.”

“Good boy,” she laughed, strutting towards the exit of the dungeon, her obedient love slave stumbling after her, still pulling his boots on as he did. Maybe she would visit the temple after all, Cynthia mused. After all, the sisters there would surely love to examine her curse mark. In intimate detail…

#brainwashing #mind control #mindless #brainless #hypnosis #mind corruption #hypnotized #brain drain #jay aury #bimboification #cursed #curse mark #corruption #corruption kink #demon girls #demon girl #short story #ai artwork

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hazbinshusk · 4 months ago

Note

Hi there! I saw your prompt request open so I thought about...Blitzø x Fem! Angel! Reader from the Kiss Roulette with #39 Prompt. A tentative kiss.

The C.H.E.R.U.B.S made heaven looks so bad after what they did in the living world. So, an angel is informed about this so she apologizes to the Imp's company. Knowing there's no need to fight between both worlds. Blitzø feels some kind of warm and kindness coming from the angel. Wanting to get to know more about her and the heavens. Maybe even teasing her about wanting a taste from heaven with a kiss...With fluff and maybe spice (I kinda had the idea a bit but the rest can be up to you)

So, I already sended you this request but then I found out I wrote the wrong number (Hope not to go wrong with this one this time so I dediced to wrote the name in case I wrote the wrong number).

thank you for being so patient! I had a little fun with it so it fit my voice a little better, but I hope you still like it :) also 'bible-thumpin' boytoys' might be one of my favourite bits of dialogue I've ever written for blitzø. anyway, heres...

prompt #39: a tentative kiss

“Okay… you wanna run by me again exactly in the fuck you are?” Blitzø says, an eyebrow raised as he lounges back in his chair, feet kicked up on the desk between you. His expression reads as disbelieving, but he still manages to take the moment to let it turn appraising, even predatory as he runs his gaze down over your figure. “’Cause you don’t look a single fuck like those cotton candy freaks that fucked with us up top.”

You smooth your fingers over the fabric covering your thighs, banishing non-existent wrinkles from your slacks. You were perched straight-backed on the chair opposite him, entirely aware of the three other demons listening in from the other side of the door. “I’m a CHERUB… or, well, an associate of CHERUB. I’m not heaven-born, I just liaise with the department.”

“Ohhh, so you’re one of the goody-two-shoe-fuckers that get to go topside after they bite it?” the imp asks, leaning forward slightly. His tail waves slowly back and forth behind him, and part of you wonders if he’s doing it on purpose – like he’s trying to offend you by making sure you notice every one of his demonic traits. “You must’a been borin’ as shit to end up with the Holy Rollers.”

You shrug a shoulder, amusement twitching at the edge of your lips despite yourself. “Must have.”

“So, what?” Blitzø continues, a kind of cavalier smirk playing over his features. “Your bosses all pissy ‘cause we kicked your buddies’ asses halfway back to heaven and now you’re… what? Here to make it even? ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, you’re cute an’ all, but I’m pretty sure we can serve your ass back to ya on a silver platter.”

“You think I’m cute?” you ask, and Blitzø grins. You shake your head, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’m not here for some kind of avenging angel deal. Dearie told me… told the department how it all went down, and—”

“That bambi bitch’s name is Dearie?”

“—I wanted to apologise for what happened.”

Blitzø’s eyebrow arches again. “You wanted to apologise. Not your bosses.”

You swallow, pressing your lips together.

Shit.

You weren’t exactly here on sanctioned orders; Lord, if anyone found out that you’d hijacked a portal to come down here… well, you’d probably end up in the same predicament as Cletus, Colin and Keenie. And honestly, spending the Father only knows how long trapped in the mortal world with them for company… Maybe you should have thought this through.

“I, uh… it’s important that the relationship between Heaven and Hell stays civil—” you say, and the imp snorts in derision.

“Yeah, you feathery fucks seem to be real concerned with keepin’ the peace.” he replies snidely, and your brow furrows in confusion at the comment. He leans forward in his seat, giving you that appraising look again that makes something inside you flutter. You push it down, swallowing. “Speakin’ of, shouldn’t you have a rack on you?”

“Excuse me?” you say, offended, and you can’t help but glance down at your chest automatically.

Blitzø snickers, letting his own gaze linger there for a moment before he waves a hand towards the space over your shoulder. “Wings, sugar. Shouldn’t you have a pair?”

“Oh,” you feel a blush creep into your cheeks at your presumption. “I do, they’re just… kind of a pain to have out all the time. Besides, this way I can… blend in a little better down here.”

Blitzø huffs a laugh, pushing himself up out of his chair. “Nice try, tits. But there ain’t no sinners down here that look like you.”

That fluttery feeling blooms inside you again, tickling low in your belly and floating into your chest as he rounds the desk towards you. He leans against it, claws curled around the edge of the desktop beside his hips, his legs only a few sparse inches from your knees. You jump slightly as you feel something touch your ankle – the point of his tail brushes against your pant leg as it waves slowly beside him. The imp’s smirk widens at your reaction.

“And none of ‘em dress like that, either.” he points out. “Pride ain’t exactly the place for business casual.”

You glance down at yourself again, at your pressed pants and button down, before looking back up at him from under your brows. You find yourself trying for the same playfully sarcastic tone he’s been using on you. “You saying I should have tried for the leather look?”

Blitzø blinks, caught off-guard by the change in your tone. Then, he smiles again, sharp-toothed and thoroughly entertained. “Definitely. Personally, I’d love to see those legs of yours all wrapped up in tight, black…”

“Mr. Buckzo—”

“Call me Blitz.”

“Blitz,” you correct yourself. “I’m here to try and establish a diplomatic relationship between—”

“You ever thought about it?”

“Huh?”

Blitzø grins. “Takin’ a walk on the dark side. See what you were missin’ out on by playin’ good girl for God all those years on Earth. They might have invented their own brand of fuckin’ up in Cloud Cuckoo Land, but I can guarantee your bible-thumpin’ boytoys ain’t got nothin’ on me.”

You flush, and that seems to amuse him more. “Are you… seriously… hitting on me right now?”

Blitzø’s smile doesn’t waver. “You tellin’ me you’re not interested?”

Casting a glance back to the door, you struggle to find an appropriate response. You jump again as he suddenly leans forward just as you turn around to face him again, bracing himself over you by gripping the arms of your chair. It effectively cages you in, and your breath catches in your throat as it brings his face so, so close to yours.

You swallow, and he smirks.

“I… I came here,” you repeat, trying to keep the waver out of your voice. “To try and mend… fences between our organizations…”

“Mm. You wanna make amends?”

You nod, biting your lip. Blitzø’s eyes flicker down to catch the movement. His tail is switching slowly behind him again.

“You wanna make it up to us for what your dick co-workers did?”

“I—”

“Show me how much.” he challenges, eyes half-lidded and downright… seductive. You shift in your seat, face aflame. “C’mon… you know you want to. One little kiss to show me how much you care… maybe a quick, five star fuck if you feel up to it—”

“Jesus Christ…” the curse comes out as barely more than a breath.

“Look, at you. Takin’ the Lord’s name in vain.” he chuckles. “Careful, baby. You spend too much time down here, and you might find you like it.”

“It’s Hell, not a holiday.” you point out. “I’m not exactly worried about wanting an address change.”

“Yeah?” he retorts teasingly. “Prove it. Give me a little taste of Heaven.”

You waver for a moment before your sense of reason finally gives way to your curiosity. You reach up, curling your fingers in the front of his coat. Blitzø actually looks surprised as you lean up, meeting his lips hesitantly with your own.

They’re surprisingly soft and warm against yours, and the stiffness in his body eases as he relaxes into the embrace. When you pull away, you exhale in the hopes of steadying yourself. Blitzø meets your eye for a moment, and then his lips are on yours again, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

You can feel the sharp points of his claws in your hair, against the soft skin by your ear, but instead of unnerving you, you find it excites you, spurs you on. When your lips part he touches his tongue to your bottom lip, and you sigh into his mouth. Your hand leaves his chest to slide over the side of his neck to curl around the nape of it, and you’re surprised to hear him moan quietly into the kiss. It thrills you more than it should, as does the way his tongue slides against yours.

Your fingers brush against one of the spikes at the back of his head, and you jerk away from him, his teeth grazing your lip as you do. Blitzø blinks as though dazed, shaking himself as you suddenly push your chair back and stand, the chair legs screeching obnoxiously against the carpet.

“I should… I should go.” you stumble over the words, grateful that the imp doesn’t move to follow you as you back away from him a few steps. “My… my friend can only keep the portal open for so long before they notice I’m gone. So, I should…”

Blitzø nods, recovering himself. “Right. Yeah. Yeah, you should… yeah…”

You give him an awkward, tight-lipped smile, holding out a hand for him to shake. “It was… thank you for meeting with me, Blitz.”

He laughs at your sudden propriety, shaking his head in amusement as he closes the distance between you and takes hold of your hand. Instead of shaking it, he turns it over, bending down and brushing his lips against the back of it. Blitzø holds your gaze as he does, and you can’t help the bashful smile that flickers over your face.

“Anytime.”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

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impossiblesublimelight · 2 months ago

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New Fear Discovered

So, as we all know, Andrealphus has taken everything from Stolas at this point. His title. His palace. Heck, even his imp staff “belong” to Andrealphus now. Everything that has ever belonged to or meant anything to Stolas has been taken by Andrealphus (and Stella) and either destroyed or been changed beyond recognition.

And then I remembered:

Imp. Of. MINE.

Stolas claimed, in front of an ENTIRE courtroom full of royal demons, that Blitzø was his imp. And we know all too well how royal demons see imps.

Andrealphus could claim that Blitzø belongs to him now after Stolas’ banishment. And the courts of Hell will back him!

#another season 3 prediction #this is gonna come back to bite them in the a$$#andre is petty enough to pull this at the worst moment #helluva boss #helluva boss blitz #blitzø #helluva boss blitzo #helluva boss stolas #stolitz #blitzo #helluva blitz #helluva boss andrealphus #helluva boss mastermind

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galactichoneybee92 · 4 months ago

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*~* Spoilers for Mastermind ~*~

Everyone who was all up in arms that Stolas was being babied by the narrative and was getting away with having classist views I need you all to come front row and center for the next couple episodes. Put on your thinking caps and try your hands at media literacy because I believe we are entering the next arc of Stolas's character development.

There were some less than subtle clues in this episode, specifically the way the two of them were treated in their court case. Stolas, who despite everything does view himself and Blitz as equals, expected to receive execution, the same at Blitz. He went in there fully expecting to die in Blitz's place and was legitimately shocked when Satan essentially said "What are you crazy? We aren't killing you- You're royalty. Your life actually matters."

Now that Stolas is banished, the Imps clearly have no fear of retribution and seem to be using this as their excuse to take out their grievances with the upper class. I don't even know if they have a particular beef with Stolas or just in general but he is now within their reach so he's become their punching bag. But, if this goes the way I'd like it to, this gives Stolas the unique opportunity to get a first hand look at what life is like for the commoners. And maybe if they can stop throwing shit at him, he'd be able to hear them out. Learn and grow and improve. And then if he gets his title back later he will be a better leader with a better understanding of his people.

Stolas was never intentionally cruel, he was just pretty out of touch. And while this lesson will be hard for him I think it will be better for him in the end.

#helluva boss #spoilers #mastermind spoilers #blitzø #stolas #stolas goetia

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crystallizedtwilight · 4 months ago

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🎃 LSBC Questions: Part 23! 🎃

Part 22 here!

All are welcome in Halloween Town as long as they follow the rules of the King & Queen. Jack and Sally view scaring as a fun aspect of life, a way to reinvigorate the soul for humans and supernatural alike: "life's no fun without a good scare / that's our job but we're not mean."

They have also decreed a no-kill policy regarding humans. Oogie couldn't follow this rule and that's why he and those associated with him were banished to the outskirts, as well as why the town was fitted with a gate and gatekeeper (that have since been removed since Oogie's demise in the hopes of making LSB feel more welcome).

No, Shock was focused on other things. Also, young Calliope!

I enjoy drawing short comics and singular works of art, which is how this AU will remain. I don't have a timeline but I do have an overview

The movie is the sole source material for this AU. Jack and Oogie were on good terms once, before Oogie's hunger for flesh and gambling got out of hand.

gotchaaaa

Lock/Barrel, Shock/Calliope, Jack/Sally. Barrel went on one date with Belladonna, which ultimately led to Lock and Barrel admitting their feelings to each other after a two year fwb arrangement.

I draw them both still dressed, sometimes one more than the other. Just to suggest how they may enjoy their private moments.

Lock's not really a happy crier. He'll cry if he's extremely stressed but doesn't want anyone to see, so he'll usually run off for privacy.

There's a countdown clock to Halloween in the town square so they're familiar with the concept. And if it had easily accessible openings to 24 treats those would also be devoured immediately 😂

Greater than his fear of not knowing how an imp should be or act, Lock was most afraid of not belonging anywhere. This subsides when he's older, after Shock and Barrel both assure him that they will always be friends, and he will always be wanted and have a place with them.

#tnbc bulk questions

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shiny-jr · 3 months ago

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▶ damnation [ the praetorian imp ]

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Ortho Shroud, Idia Shroud.

– Note: Here it is. I got lazy and did not check it after reading it multiple times before posting on Quotev. So hopefully there's no mistakes. At least not a lot of them. Now read. Happy reading.

– Pages: 43

– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!

The Raven Retainer | The Praetorian Imp | ???

Cold metal. There was a slight weight on the top of your skull, like the heft of a circlet. Carefully reaching up, your fingers touched thin cold metal, but as you tried to gingerly remove it, it failed to come off. Gentle tugs become harsh pulls, but that only serves to form an ache in your head as if you were pulling on your hair. Was it some sort of deadly contraption placed on prisoners? Was this how they wanted you to die? By crushing your skull with this thing?

“Wh– Where am I…?”

As you stumbled over your own two feet, you stopped yanking on the metal on top of your cranium. Fear took root as you absorbed your surroundings, dark and unfamiliar, those same qualities as the jail cell but this was unlike any prison. There were high walls with columns of gray and silver and gold, arched ceilings that were mixes of blues and grays and blacks which almost looked like painted murals that had been smeared across the surface. The floor was freezing like cement, but it was a smooth polished dark gray. With at least two floors, the second was accessible by some wide curved stairs which lead to more of the unknown. Your voice echoed in the space, leaving you to believe you were completely alone.

Skull-crushing could still be on the list of possible ways to die. Or would your punishment be isolation? Complete solitude was known to drive people insane. It didn’t even seem like a single soul alive was here, leaving only the sound of your heavy breathing in the otherwise unsettling silence. White flowers from large vases wilted, their petals suspended gray and limp like hanged bodies.

On the floors you nearly slip and hit your head, but you manage to grab a nearby column that was as thick and sturdy as an old oak tree. That’s when you caught sight of your reflection in a nearby huge vase coated with a reflective exterior. You were staring wide-eyed at an unfamiliar figure, so odd that it took a moment to register that it was truly you.

A long black cloth with dark blue meander borders acted like a shirt or a robe, wrapping over one shoulder and extending in different directions to act like a small cloak and cover part of your legs. From your hips to your ankles covered by part of the top cloth, were a pair of black pants with more blue meander borders decorating it. They were like modern day sweatpants and an ancient palla all in one outfit, which you might’ve admired if you weren’t currently filled with confusion and dread. That metal object on your head was like a headpiece, with two long thin black protruding pieces slicked back that glowed a slight blue. Like a demon’s horns. Impossible to remove.

You resembled a demon with these horns, a devilish little imp. When your eyes adjusted, the reflective surface of the vase was painted. Painted black and browns, like the famous Athenian ceramic styles with figures of black and brick red. Except, each vase depicted a different scene. A powerful muscled figure standing proudly and holding a bolt of lightning; a baby strangling two large snakes; a young scrawny individual training beside a satyr and a pegasus.

“Get– these off…!”

An imp… you were an imp! Horror spread across your features, and the constant tugging to remove the metallic horn-like objects from your skull served pain stronger than a slap, to let you know that this was no dream. The judges had cast the final verdict, and as soon as you arrived you were destined to live as a miserable little creature to serve a higher being. A god.

A God of the Underworld, that wielded the deadliest of blue flames and kept all souls contained within his land of misery. A being of divinity who envied his family and others who dwelled high in the clouds of Mount Olympus, so he planned meticulously for years to lay siege to the mountain by freeing titans who would wreak havoc across the globe. Just as he sits on the throne where the God of Thunder and King of Gods once dwelled, the human son of that royal god arrived to face the dark god. That gloomy and dreary antagonistic entity had three main underlings, two of which were imps he regularly abused and tormented.

Maiming, wringing their necks, burning them in blue fire, those were just some of the torture those imps faced at the hands of their master. You felt yourself fall to your knees in a heap, like a rag doll, by the overwhelming emotions weighing in your mind and the now new burden of survival on your shoulders. This was hell, literally. So caught up with this newfound revelation, that you didn’t even notice the vases become blank as if by magic, wiping the depicted scenes off their surface. Hallucinations!

These must’ve been hallucinations formed by your unstable mind–– You were especially sure of it when it felt as if the ground vanished beneath your feet and were surrounded by dark mists. The dark and elegant place you had once stood in, was gone, and you plunged into a dark pit. A small plunge, then you fell on rocky uneven earth, leading you to fall flat on your face. There was hardly any light, and the ceiling was low. But, there was a blue flame, a small glow to which you opened your eyes to.

In front of you was a young boy that looked more akin to an android. Surely, another illusion, but your certainty wavered when it blinked at you. It blinked with its wide bright yellow eyes. Its eyes were like a light, as was its hair made of what seemed like real blue flames that was like a torch in this small cave. Its body was dark and metallic, part of those metals extending over the mouth like a mask. “There you are! I was beginning to wonder if you chickened out. Are you ready to put on a show? Remember, we gotta make it believable, the hero won’t be the only one there! We gotta trick all the humans!”

“W-What…?” You watched as the android-like being opened up a hologram in front of him, and on the screen of light were various shapes and figures of numerous creatures and people alike.

Whatever this thing was, its voice became monotone for a brief few seconds as its pointer finger landed on the image of a normal young boy. “Selecting… Loading… Finalizing appearance.” In an instant, a light flashed over him and he became that little boy in the hologram. “What do you think? Pretty convincing, huh? Now, your turn!”

If you squint, it was like peering through glass, because at some angles you could still see the android. However, you had absolutely no time to question it, or the situation at hand, or what he could’ve possibly meant, because the quiet was shattered by the squeal of what sounded like a horse.

Scrambling onto your feet, you approached the thin tiny opening where light filtered in, far too small to squeeze past but just big enough to peer through. It took a few spare seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light of the outside on this cloudy day, but you could make out high rocky cliffs as gray as the sky. And a white horse with wings, a pegasus, several meters away with two people. A young man in purple who looked quite ruffled and a muscular woman with auburn locks. You blanched upon recognizing the location.

The mighty hero was said to have fought his first life-threatening battle in a gorge, just like this one. It was a battle that nearly cost him his life. The human servant, obliged to serve the dark Lord of the Underworld, lured the hero to the gorge under the guise of an accident requiring urgent attention from a savior. The accident involved two children trapped under rubble where nearby the hydra lurked. And those two children? Were the two imps who also served the God of the Dead. One imp, you were one. And the other? Beside you now, which explained his matching metallic horns on his head. Meaning the hydra was near. Each breath you took increased in pace, on the very verge of hyperventilating––

“Help! Hurry! We can’t breathe!” The android boy cried for help, his little eyes peeking out of the same gap you were peering out of. Even his voice sounded different with whatever magic or technology he used to disguise himself. As the hero was running over and a crowd was forming a good distance away, your fellow imp looked at you and whispered in confusion, “Where’s your disguise? You can’t let her see––”

“Get me out…!! Please! Anyone! Someone!” You gasped, suddenly realizing just how small it was underneath this massive boulder. It was a miracle it hadn’t crashed down yet, killing you instantly like rock squishing an ant. But if the boulder didn’t kill you, then the hydra would. And that was what terrified you, causing you to scream for help.

The young boy’s eyes brightened up, looking a bit taken aback at your volume before he grinned. At least, he must’ve been grinning, judging by the way his eyes lit up. Pausing his very loud pleas, he whispered in amazement, “Wow, you’re really good at this acting!”

You were not acting. Especially not when help arrived in the form of the protagonist.

Instead of a man as depicted in the stories, it was a woman. A woman with innocent blue eyes and a kind voice that attempted to ease the worries of what she must’ve thought were two poor victims trapped beneath debris from a rock slide. Her eyes darted from what she saw as a normal little boy, then over to you. “It’s okay, I promise you’ll be alright.” Those eyes like the bright blue sky, softened with a hint of pity, maybe because you just looked that pitiful and on the verge of tears. Because you knew what monster would come lurking from the gorge just moments after you and the small horned being beside you are supposed to be saved.

Incredibly, with only a minimal amount of struggling, the hero heaved the boulder slowly above her head with her strong arms. Even though the rock was easily ten times her size, she raised it up high above her head, allowing you and the boy to scamper out of the pit. Managing a charming smile despite the tons of weight she was holding, she began, “How are you holding up? Are you injured or––”

Running. You were running. There was no way you would waste even a second here, and become a victim to that three-headed beast. It sounded like the hero had shouted something as you fled, and were followed by the android boy still in disguise as he called for you to wait up. Climbing, climbing, you took what looked like a thin path on a narrow cliff’s edge until you reached a hollow cavity hidden by shadows and boulders. By then you were out of breath, heaving, the ache in the back of your legs screaming from all that climbing and your lungs burning.

It seemed as if your torment was far from over. As your gaze traveled up, you stilled like a deer in the headlights. There, engraved within the very surface of the rugged stone walls, was a mausoleum that appeared to be left abandoned. Its smooth columns held up ledges, and at the very mouth of the entrance was a throne of pure stone occupied by a stranger. A stranger that looked eerily similar to the android that had been your company.

A figure who sat looking quite bored upon witnessing a mortal with inhuman strength. There were no words, but just by appearance alone you knew that this was the divine god that ruled the underworld. Fire, blue fire, ran from the top of his head down his spine and over thin shoulders. He was covered from neck to toe, completely in robes of dark blues and dull grays. Long sleeves with meander patterns extended to his wrist, and even his bony fingers were pitch black either due to the fabric of a glove or it was his actual skin, you couldn’t tell. The himation, the cloth that pooled on the floor at his feet, was pinned by a brooch resembling a skull.

Chilling yellow eyes leered down at you, his blue lips pulled back slightly in a grimace to reveal unnaturally sharp teeth on his pale face. Under his judgemental gaze, you felt like a miserable little roach scuttering about underfoot. “This isn’t a theater, and you’re not Dionysus, tryhard. That was major overkill. You screamed so much I heard you loud and clear from all the way up here, pretty sure all those humans heard you.”

In the blink of an eye, the android’s disguise was gone and he floated beside you. Placing a gentle but cold metallic hand on your back, he eagerly piped up, “I think they did really good, brother!” Brother? The god, the villain of this story, was his brother? Certainly the resemblance was there between the god and the being in the role of the imp. “Did you see the look on the hero’s face, Idia? By my estimations, the act fooled all mortal onlookers!”

Brother. But… that couldn’t be possible. Now that you were high up beside the god, Idia is what your partner in crime had called him, you were no longer so fearful of immediately becoming the hydra’s next meal. That wouldn’t happen, especially when according to the story, the lord of the underworld was the one who controlled the hydra. But now you were currently more concerned and fearful of the literal divine being sitting in front of you. The lord’s brothers were only supposed to be other gods from Mount Olympus, not a being that served him. What else was different about the story? More importantly, what would he do to you once he realized that you did not belong?

“Okay, fine. Stirring performance. Gets five stars from me. Definitely better than that uber cringe Oedipus play that came out a while back. Ortho, nice, you really played the cute little kid you gotta feel for, and you…” Idia directed his attention to you, and you froze in place under his gaze as he sized you up. “You actually weren’t that annoying this time. So congrats, I guess.” He added dismissively, apparently bored with this prelude as the crowd of humans down below continued to clap for the protagonist that had just saved two souls from the boulders in the gorge. Then, his gaze traveled over to the shadows, on a small cliff where a figure you hadn’t even noticed had been standing in silence. “And can’t forget you. A thumbs-up for the leading guy. Even a girl like her can’t resist you, huh, Meg? Talk about pretty privilege. It must be nice.”

Startled slightly by the new presence, you glanced over, spotting a slightly familiar face looking over the cliff. It was that man who had been accompanying the protagonist. A fairly handsome looking man with brown wavy hair, in a purple chiton and baggy loose gray pants. Again, there was that modern style mixed with ancient, making you question what time this took place in. But that question was so insignificant compared to the rest of your worries, that it would be pushed to the very back of your mind.

Looking from Meg to Idia, you compare the two faces. The God of the Underworld certainly wasn’t ugly, per say. In fact, he was ethereal in his own unique way. It was more of an acquired taste to appreciate the slight cheekbones, the aquiline nose, and the dim glow his fire blue hair provided in the dark space. He wasn’t exactly the beauty standard that could be compared to a warm summer day, but cold rainy nights could be just as beautiful.

“What are you staring at? Can you not? Seriously, don’t you know that’s rude?” The god muttered in a near sneer, his gaze unable to meet yours. In fact, he appeared to be looking anywhere but at you. Like he was nervous. But what would a god have to be nervous about? “When I leave home, I’d rather not be gawked at like some freak. I don’t need another reminder.”

Embarrassment caused heat to creep up your neck and into your cheeks as you lowered your head swiftly in an apologetic nod. With your eyes now glued to the ground, you didn’t lift your head even an inch. It was a mercy that he didn’t appear to be a wrathful god. Cruel, perhaps, but apparently not quick to violence. If he was the hostile type, the last thing you would probably see was his calming blue fire turn an angry red before your body became nothing but ashes in the wind and your soul joining the countless in the river of the dead. In an effort to appease him so he wouldn’t believe you were staring for the wrong reasons, you began hesitantly, in a nervous tone, “I-I’m sorry–– I was staring because, well, you talk as if y-you didn’t have that specific privilege either.”

Because you kept your head down, you failed to see all three of them, Ortho, Idia, and even Meg whipped his head around to stare with their own forms of shock as you snapped your mouth shut. There was no room to question what was said and done as a tense sort of silence settled in the air.

“Not funny, didn’t laugh. I had no idea the role of jester was just taken up. Last I knew, we still had that position available. Guess I was wrong.” He replied, unamused, and surprisingly not offended. At least he didn’t seem as if he was about to smite you for offending a god. It was jarring how lax he was, but he spoke with bitter sarcasm which actually hurt. “If I wanted a laugh, I’d probably watch you snivel and cry again, but honestly it’s way more pathetic than funny so there’s really no point in it unless I want to remind myself that there’s someone within a ten foot radius who’s giving me a run for my money in the pity department.”

“I don’t think any of you are pathetic or pitiful.” Ortho chimed in, throwing in his two cents on the matter. To which the god only glanced at. “Shall I search our records for the soul of a successful jester? I believe we may have a few that once served kings in past centuries?”

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the motion while propping up his elbow on the armrest of the stone throne. “Nah, don’t bother, none of them are that funny anyways. It’s not worth the effort of fishing them out of the river of souls. Once we secure our win, then maybe I’ll consider it when the muses run out of jokes to tell.”

The muses? Did he plan to use those divine beings as servants once he conquered Mount Olympus?

“Uh, you can scram now? I know your soul is probably drawn to the company of other mortals like pretty-boy Meg over there and that schlemiel Heraclea.” Idia scoffed, looking a bit bitter. Although, maybe that was his natural expression along with the constant gloom that seemed to permanently linger around the divine being. He rolled his eyes, murmuring the word so it sounded like an insult, “Mortals.”

“T-Then… I’ll talk to Meg.” You kept your head down both out of respect and out of fear. Even if this supposed god was nowhere near as frightening in appearance as you had originally imagined, he was still a god capable of things you could never imagine. Better safe than sorry.

There was no chance to add anymore, since a hiss and the screams of terrified people filled the gorge. The massive serpent slithering out from its hidden den screeched as a storm brewed. The beast was probably more horrifying than any creature from nightmares you’ve dreamt, and thankfully you weren’t one of the many mortals down in the pit where they were within striking distance.

As all this unfolded multiple levels down in the pit, you cautiously made your way to the edge beside the human who served the god, seeing that the Lord of the Underworld had grown bored of the ridicule and decided watching the death match was worth his attention. Of course you knew how the battle would unfold. The hero would struggle against the massive scaled beast, before beheading it, only to be faced with numerous more heads that resulted from each slice. In the end, the warrior would prevail, beaten and bruised, but alive and hailed as a hero by the townsfolk. However, watching it all transpire in real time right before your very eyes, brought a newfound level of anxiety.

That hero attempted to regain her confidence, but her maneuvers were awkward and unsure when faced with her first real threat. Each movement was just barely enough to save her from the snapping jaws of the currently single-headed hydra. Each swing of her blade met its equally sharp fangs, and clashed like two swords. Watching the scene beside you, was that human, the character that was to be the love interest of the hero.

Meg watched with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms, looking both anxious and displeased. So quiet that it was easy to miss over the sounds of people in chaos and the snarling of the hydra, he murmured, “I don’t know what your angle is, but it won’t work.”

Averting your attention away from the spectacle below, you slowly turned your head to the man. “I’m sorry…?” What was he talking about? Angle? There was no angle. Right now you were just trying to survive, nothing more, nothing less.

“Don’t play stupid, you sleazy imp. Complimenting him? Of all people? Even I’m not desperate enough to sweet-talk him like that. He’d see through the ruse anyways.” He hissed, glaring at you with those odd violet eyes that momentarily stopped at you, then his superior, back to the gorge. “Heraclea should’ve dropped that boulder on you to squish you like the insect you are.”

At that mental image you nearly flinched. When his gaze glanced over at that god and his younger brother, your eyes followed. The android boy was peering down at the gorge, clapping his hands excitedly as if he was spectating some game instead of a deadly match. The god was still on that cold stone throne, grinning as he lounged as if he were at home kicked back on a couch. When those otherworldly yellow eyes met yours and his grin faltered, you tensed up before diverting your attention back to the nail-biting action.

Anxiously you twiddle your thumbs. Heraclea… So that was the protagonist’s name. You shuddered to think of what would become of you should she one day think of you as an enemy and not as an innocent person to be saved. Were you someone to be saved? Yes. Innocent? No, not exactly. Although, if the Lord of the Underworld managed to successfully conquer Mount Olympus, wouldn’t that mean he would bring his servants to that safe haven in the clouds too? All the other gods would be imprisoned, even the mighty God of Thunder who currently ruled over the mountain. Mount Olympus was high in the clouds, it was practically heaven. You would be safe there.

Eventually, Idia would acquire titans, each with astounding elemental powers and then some. Each and every god had fallen in defeat against the titans, all save for the God of Thunder and his son who defeated them, now daughter in this case. And the only reason the hero had regained their strength to defeat the titans, was because his love, Meg, had gotten injured. If Meg was kept safe, then he wouldn’t have ever had his strength returned to him, meaning he never would’ve been able to stop the siege on Mount Olympus. Certainly it would allow you to be safe and alive, perhaps even served by gods and goddesses, so long as you heed Idia’s every word. And a piece of the key to that future, stood right beside you.

Clearing your throat, you nearly felt sick when you watched as Heraclea finally beheaded the beast, and the hydra’s body went limp against the relieved cheers of the townsfolk. The calm before the storm. At that moment, you struggled to find something to say. “Is… Is it because I didn’t compliment you…?” Why was he so harsh towards you? Actually, scratch that. It was obvious there were trust issues there, and he wouldn’t be too fond of one of the two that worked so closely with the god he sold his soul to. “Nevermind, that was stupid thing to ask.”

“Yeah, it was. What a dope.” When he rolled his eyes, that was probably the sign to leave. However, your feet remained firmly planted. Even as he continued his degrading comments, “It seems like every peloponnesian minute, you get more and more pathetic.” With a wave of his hand, he shooed you away with a scowl tugging on his lips. “Why don’t you go join the watch party with them?”

It was quite morbid to see the Lord of the Underworld and his younger brother appear quite enthusiastic when the decapitated beast suddenly started moving and sprouted three heads within a single second. The duo were raving about something you couldn’t hear due to the wind and rain that had picked up. They remained under the hollowed stone, keeping them dry. However, Meg continued to stand beside you on the cliff, getting drenched with each drop.

Part of you considered just extending out your arm and pushing him over the cliff, but there was no use in that. Chances are, Heraclea would save him and Idia might not appreciate the fact that one of his best pawns was gone. And if Meg died from the fall, for what reason would the hero then later have to give up his powers if not to save the love interest? So, refraining, you instead unraveled part of the cloth around yourself to extend over his head like an umbrella.

“... Thanks.” The thank you was hesitant as he eyed you carefully, but at least he had the decency to be grateful. By now, it appeared as if the hydra had been slayed by falling rubble along with the hero, but you knew better. Without even looking at you, Meg repeated, “Like I said before, I don’t know what you're up to, but keep me out of it.”

“I’m just… trying to spare myself is all.” Your response held a much deeper meaning than he, or anyone else in this world, could ever know. To him, it just seemed like you meant standing by him to distance yourself from the god when the hydra lay buried and still while Heraclea emerged bruised but alive to a rapturous applause from the cheering far below.

You swore you saw the god’s blue hair spark red for a moment, the flames appearing to wave a little faster but he didn’t make any motion to grab and burn anything with his bare hands. All he did was stand up and stalk off, and you were in no way tempted to elicit a worser reaction from him. Not when Ortho was unnerving you by how he stood still, his brows furrowed in disappointment with a tilt of his head as he watched the protagonist get showered in praise and thanks. Neither of them would you approach, even as a dark mist surrounding the ledge. When it was gone, you and the others were back in those dark hallowed halls from where you first arrived.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Staring at the ceiling. It felt as if you had barely slept, and you had no sense of the time as it was so dark in the underworld. All you wanted to do was sleep, sleep and never wake up to avoid this endless nightmare but all you could do was disassociate. And yet, you couldn’t even be granted that small mercy of sleep. A coma would be a blessing right about now. However, all you could do was get lost in the painted and carved shapes and swirls, silently staring up blankly.

When you imagined the possibility of perhaps achieving paradise on Mount Olympus by assisting the Lord of Underworld receive an ending of his own, you had not accounted for just how long that would take. How long each venture and battle would add to each hour, how the days began to bleed together and feel like a blur. Especially with each task done, you came no closer to derailing Heraclea off her fast-speed track towards a good ending.

The Erymanthian Boar was a wild and tameless beast that became the main dish of a feast when it was shot by a bow and promptly cooked on a spit. The Nemean Lion was like a kitten compared to the hero’s strength, even its claws famed for breaking the sharpest sword were no match. The Stymphalian Birds were caught and caged like canaries by the protagonist on her pegasus. Nothing, not a single beast or creature alive stood a chance against Heraclea. You witnessed these defeats firsthand, as you and Ortho were often charged with freeing whatever beast was to be the next challenge in a setting like a city waiting to be saved by the famed woman.

And after each loss, you saw the same thing. Idia would remove a piece off a large board. Each piece was placed strategically, carved to reflect the appearance of each monster he controlled and wished to obtain. You watched as he flicked off the Erymanthian Boar, slapped off the Nemean Lion, melted the Stymphalian Bird to a puddle. You feared meeting a fate like that, at the protagonist or antagonist’s hands––

“Hey!! Guess what?”

You hardly even moved, you didn’t even make a squeak, all you did was flinch when the face of the android appeared above you. After the first dozen or so times he spooked you by just magically appearing like a ghostly apparition, it stopped scaring you so much. Especially because Ortho didn’t want you dead. For whatever reason, he seemed strangely fond of you, perhaps because he thought that you were whoever you replaced as the role of his partner in crime. Besides, the one he wanted dead was the hero, he and his brother have made that much clear.

“No––”

“Meg recruited new pawns for Idia to use! Isn’t that exciting? And these three are super strong! There’s the Minotaur, Miss Stheno, and a Griffin! We think that the reason the hero has been winning all this time is because she’s only faced one enemy at a time. This is a game-changer, trust me!” Ortho took your hands in his cold metallic ones, his eyes shining as he whispered hopefully, “We’re so close, I can feel it…! Soon, we’re gonna be able to repay everything Idia ever did for us, by giving him Mount Olympus. I’ll be able to repay him for creating me, and you’ll be able to repay him for reviving you!”

That… was new. In all your time here, you had never once heard anyone mention a creation and revival. There was no way you could just up and ask. You were supposed to know this, and play the part. While Ortho was cheerful and bright, there was this ominous side of him and glint in his eyes. Along with his mechanical parts that pointed to the obvious, what he had just said might’ve confirmed it, that he was in no shape, way, or form, human.

“Yeah… I’m looking forward to it.” By now you knew the drill. Whenever Idia was plotting to use a new pawn, you and Ortho would have to go over details including where to release the enemies in a setting to wreck the most havoc and somewhere accessible to the protagonist. Sitting up slowly from the bed, you slid your hands out of his and used your palms to support yourself on the mattress. These next words, you would have to choose carefully. “Olympus for all that he’s done for us…”

Ortho paused when he held up your bag, and he slowly tilted his head. He did it in a way that creeped you out, with those wide yellow eyes no longer sparkling so brightly. “Oh, I mean, what he’s done for me. You can do this and I’ll forgive you for lying to me.”

You stopped breathing and your limbs froze in place. You were staring down at the young boy for what felt like a prolonged hour in silence as the air became thick with tension, but it was only a few seconds. It took a few more seconds for you to breathe, to swallow the knot caught in your throat which formed a bubbling pit of dread boiling within your stomach about to make you sick. “W-What…?”

“Your heart rate has increased significantly, more so than usual. Ever since the hydra, I’ve noticed your vitals seem off. Of course, you have always been the nervous one, always panicking, but it seems more extreme now. So I’ve conducted some scans without your notice, and I’ve made an interesting discovery. The details within your current profile do not match the previously saved one.” With each word you could only stare in horror. How long has he known? Has he told anyone else? What would he do with this information now? What would Idia do if he knew? Each and every word was like a brick being added to a scale, tipping the balance further until you felt as if your very heart would stop. “It’s the weirdest thing. It’s almost as if you’re a completely different person.”

At that moment you just wanted to vanish, disappear like gray smoke, because you’re certain that even the Lord of the Underworld’s lackey brother can give you a crueler ending than being swallowed whole by the hydra or seen as a foe in the eyes of the hero.

Ortho remained still, his head still tilted. There was no blinking, he didn’t even breathe. The voice that came from him was serious but quiet, “Do you want to be honest to me now? We were supposed to be a team.”

The horns. Those cursed metallic horns, the one on his head and the matching pair on yours, a telltale sign that you were supposed to be a duo. Somehow your hands found their way to your skull, to the base of the horns. No matter what you did, yanking, sawing, thumping them against the hard floors, nothing ever affected them when you attempted to remove them during lonely nights.

“Breathe.” Ortho whispered, his eyes softening and brows furrowing slightly, as if he were looking at a panicked little beast fearfully curled up in a corner. You hadn’t even noticed you were nearly hyperventilating until he said something. You recognized that look, one of pity. Why was it that you were so familiar and used to that look, but the one time you needed it during the trial, you were shown none? “If I wanted you gone, we wouldn’t be talking right now, you know that, right? You aren’t them, and I don’t understand it, but… you do good work. Help me understand you, and I’ll help you understand us. Okay?”

Broken. You broke, like a dam cracking and crumbling, the bricks swept away in a rushing torrent of words and feeble attempts at explanation. It was clear that he had been expecting some resistance of some kind, but he received none. You recounted everything, from your trial to now, the fear you’ve felt, your nightmares, the desperation to avoid a horrible end that you were destined to receive. Not divulging into the details, not mentioning the fact that this was like a story you knew. And finally, after everything was said, you wiped your teary eyes as you breathed the final words. “Please–– don’t tell anyone. N-No one can know. I’ll do what you want, I’ll help you get your brother to Olympus…! Please, all I want is peace too…”

Your fellow imp finally blinked, surprised and utterly taken aback by your rapid explanation and plea for secrecy. For a long moment, Ortho appears to scrutinize you. Who knew what was going on in that mechanical mind of his, what things he was realizing that were unseen by human eyes? Finally, he sat beside you. Well, almost, since he floated in the air in front of you, sitting on nothing but empty space. “He doesn’t want peace. That’s boring.”

Swinging his legs lightly, he removed the metallic mouthpiece that concealed the lower half of his face. You saw… nothing out of the ordinary. He looked so much like a real boy that it was uncanny, save for the pointed teeth that were very much like Idia’s.

Clearing your throat, you proceeded, “I-I don’t care, as long as I’m safe.”

“I like it better when you’re honest.” Placing the metal mouthpiece on his lap, he continued to observe you before he gave you a smile. A real smile. Somberly he proceeded, “Idia created me with his own two hands, because his biological family alienated him. Every other god lives in those high mountains, where they’re so close to the sun’s warmth and have an abundance of treasures! They never work, never worry… but not my brother. They forced him to live alone in this cold realm, to take on the responsibility of lording over the dead for all of eternity. So, eventually he brought me to life in this metal body. Then he chose a human soul to revive just so I wouldn’t be lonely either. That human soul was you, or my friend before you, at least. But I think I like you better.”

“You… You do?”

“Yeah! I think my brother picked a really bad human soul. The one you replaced was scared all the time, like you, but they never got the job done right. I like you, because even when you’re obviously scared, you do what you have to, and you do it right.” His blunt and casual manner of speaking, combined with the fact that he was still swinging his legs as he floated off the floor, reminded you that he really was a child. Or at least, molded to be like a child. “Don’t worry, I won’t speak a word about it to my brother. This doesn’t affect his plans anyways. As long as you pinky promise you won’t lie to me anymore, and you’ll still help!”

When he held out a little pinky, you blinked slowly. Such a childish thing, a pinky promise, but your life would hang on the balance between two small interlocked bones. Your life, on nothing but a promise. Did you really have a choice in the matter? “You swear you won’t tell anyone…??”

“I swear! We Shrouds always uphold our bargain. Imp’s honor!” His beaming smile could light up this entire dreary realm as you slowly wrapped your pinky around his and shook hands.

“But… imps aren’t very honorable––”

“Yeah, we are! I.M.P.– information management praetorians. We have to be honest, especially to each other, or how else will our team work?” Ortho argued, frowning lightly at the thought of being considered a liar. “At least, we have to be honest to our own. When it comes to mortals that are not you or Meg, who cares?” He placed that metallic mouthpiece back on that covered the lower portion of his face, and he stood up from his chair of air. “Come on, let’s start walking. On the way, you can tell me something interesting that I don’t know. I bet your world is so different! Tell me about it, please?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

This was your punishment, not from fate or the very hands that brought down the gavel then declared you were to be banished and die, but by Ortho. Ortho’s cruel little hands, who had tricked you into switching responsibilities for the day. Apparently he was still bitter that you had lied to him in previous encounters. What he hadn’t told you was that his main task for the day was to accompany the Lord of the Underworld across the river of souls and to the mortal realm.

So now here you were, seated so awkwardly and stiffly on the small thin boat, nervously watching the grotesque faces of the dead as their souls were carried by the currents. You could only pray that the boat didn’t tip over, because who knew what would happen to your mortal body if it fell in? It was likely mentioned in the story, but you couldn’t recall exactly what it was.

Idia appeared relatively unbothered, standing at the very edge of the boat as a masked being made of metals and dark robes moved mechanically. The mechanical charon rowed the vessel to the other side of the river, and quickly you grew bored of their slow and repetitive movements. So you turned your gaze to Idia. You couldn’t see his face, since his back was to you. All you could see was his glowing mane of blue flames waving lightly with the cold lifeless air. Abruptly, he turned his head and you saw his side profile. Those chilling unnatural yellow eyes glanced at you with a dull expression on his face, possibly sensing your stare, you quickly averted your gaze away. But it was too late, he had seen it.

“What is your deal? You have a major staring problem, imp.”

“N-Nothing, nothing!” Rapidly shaking your head, you looked for an excuse, any excuse. Anything to save you from this embarrassment, or avoid the risk of angering him. You saw his anger in brief sporadic moments, but you did not want to be the source of those frustrations. Not after you saw how he burned those pawns on that beloved board of his. “I was just wondering… what exactly are we going to do in the mortal realm?” And more importantly, how chaotic would things get?

“Tsk. Just monitor that lamebrain hero. Everyone like that has a weak spot. I mean, Prometheus and Epimetheus messed around with Pandora and the box thing, a bunch of the gods on Olympus got too involved in the Trojan War and in the end the Trojans bet on the wrong horse. All we gotta do is find her Achilles’ heel so to speak.”

It was odd how in the original story, The Lord of the Underworld never quite acknowledged most of the gods. Except for the God of Thunder, who he held a clear distaste for. However, Idia spoke as if he knew all of them personally, which would make sense. But whenever he said their names, he frowned and seemed as if he weren’t fond of any of them.

Seeing him roll his eyes, you glance at the charon who moved like a puppet, then back at the god. The silence was only temporary. Tucking your knees to your chest as you remain seated, you watch him as he continues to gaze out over the gray and lifeless realm that seemed to stretch on for miles and miles. Idia seemed like the solitary type, and if what Ortho said was true, than Idia would be alone. Clearing your throat, you inquired softly, “The Trojan War… which gods were involved in that?”

Upon hearing the inquiry, he paused but remained still. How many gods and humans and other beings had he known in his long immortal life? Probably too many to count. Idia remained looking away, as if he hadn’t even heard your question, but he answered, “Not that it really matters, but too many. To call the entire ordeal messy would be a major understatement.”

It sounded like one big trashy reality television show, except much more deadlier and the stakes were high. And yet, if his words were the truth, then he may have not had any part in the conflict. “And you didn’t get involved?”

“Why would I? I have zero interest in the stupid pointless affairs of mortals.” Okay, so he was not a fan of mortals waging war or causing conflicts. That was good to know. “Whenever they start fighting, more of them end up down there, and it’s annoying. The only bright side of it is that I don’t have to listen to all their arguing on Olympus.”

Carefully, you proceeded to ask, “So… you don’t like them? The other gods, I mean. Can you stand them…?”

“I can’t stand any of those self-important deadbeats.” A deep frown dug into his lips, clear hatred shining in those tired eyes. Honestly, you couldn’t even blame him. You would be equally bitter about practically being left to rot, to carry a burden for eternity all while everyone else who was supposed to stand beside you went to live lavishly in the clouds without a single care in the world, while their only worries were which mortals to support and pit against another like watching dogfights.

In a way, it felt like how the judges back in your home cast their judgment from aloft, and you were left alone to suffer for it. Unsure of what possessed you, you managed to ask, “What would you change? I mean, if you could punish them for wronging you, what would you do?”

Leaning against the curved end of the boat, he situated his elbow atop the curve and propped up his head on his cheek. For a long moment he was quiet, gazing at you with those striking yellow eyes. Tired, he looked tired. And after centuries, thousands of years doing his work, who wouldn’t be? “Make them suffer for the rest of eternity, just as they damned me to hell. Chains would be a pretty good start, to make them feel a tiny fraction of how it felt to be trapped. They killed that little smidge of hope I had a long long time ago, so I’ll be fair and return the favor by killing their little hero Heraclea.”

Considering his response, you nod slowly. While morbid, his feelings felt justified. Had anyone else been in his position, they likely would’ve gone insane. Maybe Idia wasn’t completely sane in the first place, considering how alone he had been until the creation of Ortho and supposed revival of the person you replaced. What sane person would create a family and a friend for himself, just to try and end their loneliness?

“You just focus your puny efforts on helping me change the world. When the titans are freed, everything will change. You can take that as gospel, or whatever.”

He returned his sights ahead over the river of souls, you suddenly remember what happens if a mortal falls into the murky depths. Their body is quickly drained of life, draining them like a grape dried to a prune, leaving nothing but a wrinkled corpse if the person stays in for too long. It’s how the protagonist nearly met their end, and where the god before you is supposed to become trapped in complete darkness.

You watched, both intimidated and captivated as a wide toothy grin broke out on his face like he thought of something funny. He scoffed, proceeding with his words in quick succession, almost breaking out into a laugh. “Those unsuspecting dolts have spent so much time up in the clouds that the air pressure must’ve literally dimmed their common sense and cut off the oxygen from their brains. They won’t even see us coming! Ah––” Freezing, his smile dropped instantly as he noticed your shock and he realized that he was allowing himself to speak more freely. Instantly he cut himself off, lowering his volume back down a few notches. Seemingly embarrassed, he partially covered his blue lips with the sleeves of his robes. “Uh… That… What I mean to say is… unlike them, I actually take others into account. One god won’t take up space on that mountain, there’s room for Ortho and a mortal too. To live however you want.”

That expression he had made, was it possible he was becoming more accustomed to you? Wait, no, he was just warming up to the role you played. Ortho had mentioned that you naturally acted just like the imp you had replaced. The Lord of the Underworld was just growing accustomed to the presence of the mortal soul of what he thought was the human he picked to become his lackey. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less. The god would never care for a mortal, not when he used the two humans closest to him, yourself and Meg, as pawns in a game to defeat the human hero, and the result without that hero would be mass casualties. As long as it wasn’t you being tormented by the beasts Idia controlled or even the titans that would soon be free, you didn’t care. Fate was dangling paradise atop a mountain behind golden gates right in front of you, and you just had to survive long enough to make it there. If only it were that easy…

“However I want…”

“However you want,” Idia repeated, as the boat stopped and the charon froze in place at a rickety old pier. Just ahead on land was a cavern with the slightest bit of sunlight flowing through it. A possible path to the mortal realm? “Cause I don’t really care what you do then. Right now, hurry it up.”

Carefully standing, you immediately jumped off the rocking boat, following the ominous divine being who ruled over the dead. Cautious to keep some distance so as to not be burned by his hair, you trail behind him. “... So… what exactly do I have to do this time…?” You prayed for an easy task, wanting to at least be out of a few mile radius distance from the hero.

“You? Oh, nothing. A wimpy little imp like you wouldn’t survive if you got too close to that hero. And really, I don’t feel like going through the effort of finding another mortal to work for me. Not when you’re useful enough, I suppose. At least you’re better than the last imp.” He practically floated across the ground, the smoke following at his heels with every step he took.

At least you’re better than the last imp. When you heard those words, you froze in place, your feet stuck to the stairs. It felt as if your very heart had stopped, and your breathing had even come to a halt. There… weren’t any predecessor imps in the story, were there? No–– you would’ve remembered such a crucial detail. So that could only mean that he knew. Somehow he knew––

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His voice broke the silence, as he saw your foot inch back, as if wanting to escape back towards the river of souls. Maybe if you hijacked the boat, forced the charon to take you somewhere far far away from here. To another portal you could use to escape into the mortal realm, anywhere but here with him. The god that ruled over the dead could see the fear clear in your eyes. His gaze was cold, and he was frowning. “Thinking of ending it all here?”

Staring into his eyes, gazing right at him, was utterly terrifying now that you didn’t know whether he considered you friend or foe. In the stories The Lord of the Underworld practically tortured his imps for sport, what if he did the same to you? You were no brother to him, you weren’t even the original soul he handpicked! You only moved your head slightly, in the subtlest nod. You didn’t want to die, but a quick and painless death by your own hand would be a mercy when compared to the horrors those pale boney hands of him would wrought.

“Pfft––” A toothy grin spread on his blue lips. The Lord of the Underworld actually smiled, and nearly laughed at your blunt response. He shrugged at your notion, and responded, “You’re not special. Get over it. Don’t even try to kill yourself, because I'll drag you straight out of the river and back here in front of me.”

That was… extremely unnerving. As scary as death was and as much as you wished to avoid it at any costs, it didn’t appear as if it would become some sort of sweet release. Not until he found you useless. You couldn’t help but notice that he spoke much more… curtly than usual, as if ticked off by something.

By some miracle you managed to swallow your fear. Perhaps it was because he found you amusing that he allowed you a few more seconds of life, or maybe it was because he really had some kind of plan in mind for you. Which was worse? Spending your last seconds agonizing over how he would end you, or believe he may kill you only to put you through tasks that would make you long for death. Meekly you murmur, “N-Normal people don’t say that––”

“I’m not a normal person, am I?” When he rolled his head to look at you, you’re reminded once again that he wasn’t like you at all. Far from it. Piercing yellow eyes, blue lips, a mane of fire, these were just the physical traits. Idia was a god, older than you could possibly comprehend, and perhaps wiser than he let on. Despite his blunt and modern way of speaking combined with his lax mannerisms, he was still the Lord of the Underworld. And he could snuff you out with a snap of his fingers.

Whenever he looked at you a certain way, like he was studying you, reading your very soul, it made a chill travel down your spine and formed a sensation in your stomach that caused you to feel like hurling. You swallowed again, forcing yourself to avoid getting sick right then and there. You didn’t know what he was seeing when he looked at you, and frankly, it was probably best not to know. “If you think I’m a poor excuse for a god, you can say it, you know.”

Puzzled by the thought that he believed that was your opinion of him, you furrowed your brows, mentally recalling any recent memories that could’ve prompted him to think so. However, none came to mind. You didn’t know whether to reply, or let him continue. Which would bring about punishment. “I never ever thought that…!”

“Huh…” Standing with his hands at his sides, his shoulders slightly hunched as he faced away from you. There were a few spare moments of a tense awkward silence before he continued, “Or… did you think I was stupid? I knew the whole time. You think I wouldn’t recognize my own imp? Even the one I didn’t really give a damn about?”

All you could do was remain still, as still as a statue. Never had you ever been this frightened before, not when coming so close to the overpowered hero with superhuman strength, or when you were underneath a boulder in the hydra’s gorge, or even when you were tasked with freeing multiple creatures of nightmares beside Ortho. Because yes, while all those beings and myths could’ve caused your demise in various horrendous and grotesque ways, Idia was on a different level. If he so wished, he could revive you and kill you again and again, trapping you in a continuous cycle of death and misery for all time.

Lifting one hand where small whirls of weak smoke swirled at his bony fingertip, the small cloud resembled the gray murky depths of the river of souls where the dead were the waves on the surface. He continued, while brooding, “When I plucked the original out of the river and revived them, I did it for one reason and one reason only. For Ortho, to keep him company. I didn’t need anyone trying to annoy me, and the prototype was no particular help, you’re more like deadweight since Ortho can do your tasks all on his own. But he wanted a friend, and who am I to deny it? I chose the original’s soul for flat and basic little traits. A dim, sorry, subservient little mortal. Except…”

When he glanced over his shoulder at you, his yellow eyes glowed dimly and you couldn’t discern his expression due to how the angle concealed the lower half of his face. Those eyes alone made you want to jump right into the river of souls, but you didn’t want to test the theory if he actually forcefully dragged you out of certain doom. What was fairly certain was that the Lord of Underworld could most definitely create fates worse than anything the judges could’ve conjured up just for you. The only thing you could do was pray that he would be merciful. “Please, believe me, I didn’t want to lie to you––!”

“pLeAsE, bELiEvE mE, i DiDn’T wAnT tO LiE tO yOu.” Idia openly mocked you, even copying the way you would anxiously grip your hands together as if in a thoughtful prayer begging for mercy. “But you did! Lucky for you, I didn’t care for the original. And, it’s a hassle getting a new imp so you got stuck with me, just your luck. Poor sorry little imp, I almost feel bad for you. Almost. Not really though.”

He… didn’t care? Was this mercy? Or some odd form of it? He made no movements to end you right then and there, not seeming to be debating it.

“I’m not stupid.” He clarified with a scowl, and that’s what made you realize that he was cross because you underestimated his intellect. Were gods truly so prideful? Maybe. It seemed so. And in the grand scheme of things, maybe he didn’t care because this didn’t affect his plans in the slightest. Why would a powerful immortal who rules over the dead’s domain, care for a human? “I don’t care who you really are, as long as you stick to the script and make Ortho happy. Got it? If you do what you're told, you’ll live.”

“O-Oh…” That wasn’t even half as much as painful of a punishment as you expected it to be. Just don’t underestimate him for his pride’s sake, and keep a solid friendship with Ortho. Noted. Those you could definitely do. “Um, thank you so so so much for sparing me your, uh… your most lugubriousness…?”

His nose crinkled and he frowned at the horrid attempt at a title. “Ew, stop that, don’t be weird. I’m not gonna kill you, that should be obvious even to someone stupid. And don’t even think of calling me Lord, that’s complete overkill. This isn’t the Dark Ages. Just use my name, it’s not like I’m gonna smite you for it. Just Idia Shroud.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

It was said that there were five stages of grief, and you had experienced all five since arriving. From the tiny voice in the back of your mind denying the reality of the situation, to the current state of acceptance to which you had no choice but to arrive at. With each passing night as you watched the planets in the sky like stars grow closer and closer to aligning, it counted down like the doomsday clock to your demise. If Heraclea didn’t lose by then, you would fail. Idia would never claim Mount Olympus, and you’d meet a terrible end.

As you stared up at the planets, seeing they were so close to a perfect straight line, you became lost in thought. It became common now, where you would stare off into space, wondering if death would come to claim you and fearing in what form it may come, only to be forcefully brought back from that eternal slumber should Idia continue to breathe. Going over constant plans and ideas, that led to deadends. Because the hero was destined to win, she had the smarts and strength to do any feat once thought impossible. The only hope brought you back to the original plan, keep Meg safe once Idia struck a deal with Heraclea in which the love interest’s safety hangs in the balance.

That was the only way.

“Are you even listening?” Ortho inquired, slightly annoyed that you had just ignored everything he was saying. Hovering off the ground, he floated upwards a bit to be in your line of vision as your head remained tilted up to the night sky. The artificially generated blue flames on his hair swayed lightly, casting a gentle blue glow and the shadows outlined his metallic horns. Tilting his head, he stared at your eyes filled with despair just staring off into nothingness. “Helloooo? Come on, there’s no time for mental breakdowns!”

When he waved a hand in front of your nose, you blinked, snapping out of that despondent daze as you slowly turned your attention to the young boy in front of you. Seeing his face that looked similar to Idia was not doing anything to help your current state. “H-Huh…?”

How did he even find you at one of Idia’s temples in the human realm? You had no idea. It was the easiest place to get to, considering all of the Lord of the Underworld’s mortal-made temples were accessible through the doors of his abode. Not that there were many of the temples, and the majority of them were abandoned inside the hollow cavities or caverns they were constructed in.

Ortho furrowed his eyebrows, as he floated back down towards the earth, now only hovering a few spare inches off of the ground. Whatever he was talking about before you began paying attention, was clearly no longer the topic of the conversation as he gazed at you quizzically. “What were you thinking about?”

Was it really worth telling him? Ortho had constantly insisted that you were supposed to be working as a team, and for a while, you had. While he was an android boy, he was incredibly dependable. He possessed abilities and skills you couldn’t even dream of achieving, and if anyone could help you while Idia dealt with leading the titans, it would be Ortho. However, who’s to say that you wouldn’t immediately be tossed to the side once you served this greater purpose as a step to assist the Lord of the Underworld in reaching the peak?

Your fellow imp gazed at you, blinking those wide yellow eyes that appeared so innocent. But you knew what Ortho was capable of, what he was willing to do for his elder brother. Lie, cheat, trick, murder–– and that was only scratching the surface. Well, maybe not outright lying, because he seemed so adamantly against it. “You can tell me. We’re friends, right? I’ve never had a real friend before, besides my brother, but friends are supposed to trust each other, right?” Gravity pulled him down, until he was right beside you, seated on a crumbling fallen column that was sideways on the floor. Small fingers reached for your long sleeve, slowly gripping it.

“Right…” You exhaled, still debating whether this was a good idea or not. Part of you worried if he could even detect if you were lying, and so you decided it better not to risk it. At the worst, you’d be discarded and had to survive in an apocalyptic-like world once the titans were freed, but in the best case scenario, you would actually manage to succeed in assisting the antagonist gain a happy ending. The latter of which would effectively grant you a good ending as well. “T-These plans you’ve been making with Idia haven’t exactly been working, but… I think I know how this’ll play out in the end. Everything that’s happening now is almost exactly like a story I knew from my home.”

“It is?” He brightened up, looking downright giddy as he jumped a few inches on nothing but air. Those wide yellow eyes of his that glowed like headlights, peered at you intensely as he exclaimed, “And you never told me! Well, how does it end? We could use this to our advantage in defeating the hero! With your help, we can’t possibly lose! This came at a perfect time, just as we were running out of pawns to use.”

With your hand so close to your mouth, you were debating whether to bite your nails out of pure anxiety or just clamp your fingers over your lips to shut yourself up. Instead, you opted to dig your nails into your palm and forced yourself to open your mouth. The words came out slow, like the painfully laggard pace of dripping water. “We’re supposed to lose…I’ve t-thought of everything to try and stop this story from dragging on for this long, but we keep underestimating Heraclea. That’s the issue. We forget that even though she’s mortal, she still has part of the strength she would have if she were still a goddess. So there’s no beating her, at least not fairly…”

Ortho leaned closer, hanging onto every single word. His little metal hands continued to cling to your sleeves. A silence lingered for a moment as he processed your words. “Okay… so we have to cheat…? I dunno…”

“Not exactly. We’re just… leveling the playing field. Yeah… That’s all we’re doing.” Nodding slowly, as if trying to convince yourself of this. Despite the Lord of the Underworld’s uncaring demeanor and your fellow imp’s rather cruel ways, they were both honest. Idia kept his word, and Ortho told truths. “Right before the titans will be freed, the Lord of the Underworld discovers that the hero’s weakness isn’t a physical one, it’s an emotional one. That… weakness is Meg. So the Lord of the Underworld pretends to kidnap the love interest, and offers a deal to the hero. I-If the hero agrees to give up their strength for twenty-four hours, Meg will be freed.”

Like a lightbulb going off in his head, his blue fire hair sparked for a moment as he straightened up and exclaimed, “That would work! But, wait a minute, if that’s the real story, then what happens so we lost…?”

“I was just getting to that.” You assured him, your voice remaining quiet as if afraid of being overheard by any living creature in the vicinity. The temple was abandoned, and they were the only two living things for miles. “T-The hero agrees to the deal, under one condition. If their loved one is hurt, then the deal is off.”

It clicked in his mind as he nodded in understanding. “Ohhhhhh…” The cogs turned in his mind, weighing the meaning of your words and what was supposed to happen. “You mean Meg dies…? That’s okay!”

Your jaw dropped at the mirth in the android boy’s tone. Wasn’t he supposed to be upset? Saddened? Did he not care at all for the human they occasionally worked with? It was true, half the time he was away on business trying to persuade other beasts to submit to Idia. “W-What? I thought–– I thought you would care!”

“Not really. It’s not really a secret that Meg doesn’t care about me or Idia! He’s kinda mean to me, actually…” He sighed, averting his gaze as he murmured, “Mortals are so complicated. I can’t understand them, and my brother says they’re all the same! Well, almost all of them. I get you, and Idia actually likes your company. Which is saying something, because he can’t stand any of the mortals he’s ever spoken to. It’s actually kinda concerning because all he talks about is you and how sad and miserable you are, but he doesn’t mean it in a hateful way. He just says it’s annoying how you get stuck in people’s heads. But we’re getting off track.”

Wait, wait, no, go back on that track. Why was Idia tolerating your company? Not that it was a bad thing, as it allowed you to live longer than most folk who had ever encountered him. It was a tad worrisome, and you couldn’t help but visibly grimace.

“All we need to do is make sure Meg lives and remains without a scratch for those twenty-four hours, right? That’s easy enough! We can knock him out cold or have Cerberus watch over him. Either way, with us on watch, it won’t really matter! We’ll be free!”

You watch him yell with glee as he jumps high into the air, until he is several stories in the sky as he laughs. What a sight this would have been to any other mortal nearby, who may have had the misfortune of stumbling across two imps at the abandoned shrine of their master. When he began to plummet back to earth instead of gracefully floating back down, you nearly stumbled on your own two feet with your arms automatically outstretched to try and catch him.

Just before you could trip and fall flat on your face, his hands caught your sleeve and prevented you from taking a nasty fall. He remained hovering off the ground, as per usual. Those brilliant blinding eyes gazed at yours as he exclaimed, “We’ll finally be happy! Idia and me, and now you! We can make history, you’ll be the first mortal to ever live on Mount Olympus! Isn’t that great? Of course, if the air pressure becomes an issue affecting your breathing pattern, I’m sure Idia would be glad to come up with a solution. He really liked your company when you two went to observe our target, you know. He won’t admit it, but I think you being there helped him calm down when Heraclea stopped the eruption at the volcano.”

“Uh, well––”

“Oh! You know what I want to do as soon as we get to Olympus?” Times like these when he jumped from topic to topic so eagerly, and remained so high in spirits is what reminded you that he was supposed to be child-like. It was easy to see him as an innocent youth, if you ignored the disturbing things he said every now and then. “I heard that Hermes has some really cool accessories. We should take them! And don’t forget Ares! I’ve always wanted to see his helmet and hold the legendary sword he wields! There’s so many things we can do once we’re up there, and we’ll have all the time in the world! And––”

All you could think of as your fellow imp blabbered on and on about relics he wished to steal from other gods and how he planned to spend his time having fun with his brother and yourself, was that you really just put your entire existence in his little metal hands. Only one sentence ran through your mind as you stared slack-jawed at him.

I’m going to fucking die…

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

They were right on track towards the implosion of destined failure, but all it would take would be one sharp turn, and unexpected change, to send them veering off course. It was surprisingly easy for Ortho to convince Idia to send out Meg on a quest to find Heraclea’s weakness. Although you knew the answer already, and by extension so did Ortho, Idia did not. And you were not about to tell him your whole life story and how you knew details that others should not know of this world and those living in it.

Now it was only a matter of waiting, waiting for the confirmation to arrive that Meg was the key to the hero’s destruction. To occupy the hours, you looked upon a scroll Ortho had brought along to the mortal realm. Seated atop the roofs of grand estates to avoid being seen and questioned, it was the perfect spot as the duo of imps were to await further instruction from the god.

On the scroll you held, were various faces of monstrous beasts. Titans. The ones that stood out the most, were the four at the very bottom, with a fifth not too far behind. Those you recognized, and would be the ones to lay siege on Mount Olympus: Lythos, Hydros, Pyros, Stratos, and Arges. The last of which would be the one to kill the hero while she was in her weakened state.

“This one… This one-eyed freak is the one we send to kill Heraclea.” You point out the image of the cyclops, able to distinguish it from the other titans. Unlike the others composed purely of the four elements, this titan was several tons of pure mass. A creature of unnatural proportions and unrivaled size, which would serve as a worthy opponent to the hero when she didn’t have her superhuman strength to protect her.

Ortho gazed at the scroll, paying no mind to the garden below where Meg was eventually supposed to emerge with knowledge of Heraclea’s weakness. Focusing his optic sensors on the simple painted image of the titan Arges, he was still in thought before nodding in approval. “It’s true that Arges is a worthy titan with the capability of wrecking havoc and killing numerous humans, but why him specifically? If the hero won in the story as you said, wouldn’t we want a different titan? I believe that Pyros would be most effective! His elemental body composed primarily of lava will easily burn through human flesh.”

“Well, yes… That’s a very vivid way of thinking about it.” How in depth was Ortho picturing the death of the hero? It almost seemed as if he wanted to send the most destructive of them all just to cause her more suffering, even if his way of thinking was logical. You shook the image out of your mind as you explained meekly, “Arges comes close to killing the hero. If he had taken things seriously instead of treating it as a game and delaying death, he would’ve won. But he didn’t, because he was toying with his victim… and because the hero’s trainer returned to their aid in those last moments.”

Either way, you were damning a person, a good person, to a horrible death. It wouldn’t be swift or painless, and far from merciful. The titans would have centuries of pent-up rage to release violently, and if miraculously Arges was defeated, Ortho wouldn’t allow the protagonist to slip away with their life. The imp beside you was far from the helpless little devils that appeared in the story, he could be just as lethal as his elder brother. And yet, despite the guilt you could feel slowly building up the more you thought about it, the more often you repeated to yourself: she wasn’t real. If you could fully convince yourself of that, that despite her bright blue eyes and smile as warm as sunshine, she was just a character from a story, then the guilt of her approaching death wouldn’t faze you too much.

The dangers in this world were real, the enemies were real, Ortho was real, Idia was real. She was not. Even if that felt like a lie, it was a lie, it didn’t matter. If you thought of her as a simple pawn in a game, then the burden of your sin wouldn’t be able to permeate throughout your consciousness. It was just like flicking a piece off a board. It was that simple. Because it was either her, or you. The choice was obvious.

As Ortho peered down at you with his big bright eyes, he continued floating in the air as he inquired, “Hey, hey, when we get there, I call dibs on Ares’ helmet and sword. You can have Hermes’ stuff, okay?”

“That’s fine with me…” Frankly, you didn’t care for tinted glasses, legendary swords, or the helmet of a god.

In the midst of their conversation and planning, a swirling cloud of mist like a portal appeared a few feet away. From it, came the familiar voice of the god, “Imps, time’s almost up.”

Going through the cloud was one experience you could never quite get accustomed to. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, like a cold dead wind knocked the air out of your lungs as it transported you to a new location each and every time. This time, the destination was a place directly outside of a largely empty colosseum underneath gray skies that was bound to brew a storm.

“Meg is out of commission, he got too soft. But, he’s there to lure his little hero. Humans are so predictable, so naive, no offense.” Idia’s gaze traveled over to you, only offering a half-hearted shrug and a crooked small grin as a weak apology, if it could even be deemed an apology at all.

To which you nodded, not really affected by his choice of words. “None taken.”

“Ortho, you take care of the pegasus and the satyr. Will you?” The immortal lord’s yellow eyes darted over to his brethren, the young imp straightening in attention upon hearing new commands. “Clip its wings, do whatever you have to, I don’t care what it is. I want them out of the way. Join us whenever you’re done.”

“Understood!” Ortho chirped, watching as his elder brother turned away to slowly walk towards the colosseum. Your fellow imp’s eyes met yours and he must’ve remembered your warning of the impact the satyr could have on the plot, because he used his ability to generate a holographic disguise of the satyr over himself. With one swift slicing motion over his neck, his head rolled to the side in a disgustingly almost realistic spillage of blood before the holographic flickered off. The imp winked at you, far too cheerful for someone planning to commit murder in the next upcoming minutes. In the next moment, he was gone through a cloud of black smog.

The gruesome image was stuck in your mind as you were left to follow the Lord of the Underworld, jogging to catch up with him and walk at his side as he approached the coliseum. The closer and closer you got to the towering arena, the more the thought dwelled at the forefront of your mind. You would be responsible for not one death, not just extinguishing the burning bright protagonist, but others. Not just Meg, or the satyr, or the pegasus, but countless other souls. Who knew how many mortals the titans would crush, freeze, burn, shred to bits and pieces? So many lives all to save yours.

Just remember, it was a story. They were just fictional characters, they didn’t even have any relevance to the plot. Background characters whose faces and voices blurred together, whose names would go unheard. That’s all they were.

“Hey. You nervous or something?”

Immediately you were yanked out of your intense train of thought, as if pulled out from beneath the surface of water. The god seemed to have picked up on the nervous tics and the grimaces on your face.

“You look like you’re gonna puke… Cut it out. I’m the one who should be nervous, seriously.”

Gripping the fabric of your clothing to prevent any unnecessary movement, you swallowed thickly and nodded stiffly. Just walk. All you had to do was walk beside him, act as an escort and keep up with him when approaching the towering open entrances to the largely abandoned coliseum where one could faintly pick up on the sound of clanging metal dumbbells in a steady rhythm.

“Sorry…” You choke out, suppressing any sort of queasy sensation. Think of golden gates and feather-stuffed clouds softer than any tempur-pedic, not the destruction and trail of blood that would lead to paradise at the peak. “Just–– the hero we’re walking towards can probably crush my skull between her biceps without even really trying. And, I kinda prefer my skull intact, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Idia rolled his eyes, seemingly not very much in agreement. Then again, he had little to fear when it came to actually being harmed. Yes, Heraclea could do some damage to him, but he couldn’t die. He was immortal.

The pair stopped at the arching entranceway moments before entering the threshold.

“You know what I do know? Rumors.” Of course he knew things. Ortho constantly kept him up to date on the latest happenings, and of course his pawn that fit in best with other mortals, Meg, had kept him informed about anything important in the mortal lands. “A certain little bird told me something interesting before he turned traitor. That a strapping gal, who, I dunno, rides a pegasus and listens to a satyr, has been on the lookout for a small kinda pathetic-looking mortal with horns. Turns out that your crying face made a crying mark on her from that day in the gorge.”

She knew you. You didn’t know whether to cry or scream. What was worse? The hero with the strength of a thousand suns or the god that reigned over the dead?

The god. The god was easily the most frightening one, you decided as you realized that Idia was staring at you intensely again. It caused your breath to stop, your hairs standing on end. The immortal looked as if he just wanted to smite you right then and there, reducing you to nothing but ash. For something that was beyond your control.

“I have got to say, you have this talent, a curse, and it makes me want to literally just––” Idia tightly clenched his fist, pursing his blue lips as he decided against going into detail. To simply put it, words like crush, tear, destroy, or pulverize into atoms would not be able to adequately put his thoughts into words. “Turns out, it’s not just me that notices. You have this strange agonizing little ability to just… worm your way into someone’s mind, and not stop. It festers like an open wound. Infecting it, making the thoughts grow more and more, worse and worse, increasing every day.”

In your seconds of stunned and petrified silence, Idia peered down at you.

His eyes glowed in the shadows under the stone arches. The smoke at his feet brushing against your legs like tendrils of gray wisps. Abruptly he remarked, “I think I finally realized why I find you so annoying.”

“What––”

“You’re used to death and choose the logical routes that are deemed as heartless. Maybe in your previous life you were seen as odd and somewhat of an outcast, like us.”

Previous life. What exactly did he mean by that? How much exactly did he know, but chose not to explicitly state? Was he assuming you had a previous life here in his plane of existence, this story? Or did he somehow know that you once had a life elsewhere, before being damned into this role by trial?

Slowly your eyes traveled over to him, only to see that he was already glancing down at you with those glowing yellow eyes. The eyes of death himself. Unsmiling, unfeeling, unstable. The breath of life was frozen in your throat as he tilted his head slowly to one side, his gaze never leaving yours, not blinking even once. “Do you blame yourself?”

“H-Huh…?”

“Well, it’s common for you simple mortals in this type of situation you’re in to feel a type of guilt, before and after what has been done.” The number of mortal souls he must’ve seen of the damned were immeasurable. The good, the bad, the worst. All of it he had witnessed. Guilt. Was that what you were feeling now, at the thought of sacrificing others for your own survival as you manipulate the story?

The breath lodged in your throat escaped like a short stifled gasp. “I… I don’t––”

“I see it all the time, you’re no exception.” Idia turned to face you fully. The Lord of the Underworld was looking down at you, the smoke at his feet curling around your legs. It was cold lifeless air, sending a chill from your toes all the way to your neck. Those eyes felt like the worst pair of eyes in the entire world–– no, the entire universe. It felt like he could read you inside out, deciphered every bit of your soul like code. “Mortals will invent blame, trying to shove the burden on others and create an excuse. When in reality…”

Reality. This was reality now, at least for you. A reality you had attempted to shape into your will, into a satisfactory ending where things would be carefree in a heavenly paradise above the clouds. And yet… what did it cost? Lives? What did that matter? But a portion of your sanity.

“It’s completely out of your control.”

The Lord of the Underworld returned his sights ahead, to where he would encounter the beloved daughter of the god who damned him to an eternity of drudgery in the most secluded realm in this plane of existence. As he walked, it felt like his fleeting wisps of smoke lingering after each footstep, compelled her forward.

Just before the shadows of the arching columns ended, they stopped on the edge of darkness where they could watch. Straight ahead was Heraclea, her back turned to them. She was lifting a bar with huge thick metal weight plates that likely each weighed about the same as a house, yet she so effortlessly lifted them up and down with the same hands that strangled the most fearsome beasts to death.

Idia stood close at your side, keeping his fingers folded in front of him as he stood slightly slouched, watching the hero with utter disdain before his gaze traveled to you out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t move his head. Instead of that same type of hateful loathing he felt towards the protagonist, he looked at you with something else, something less evil and more gentler but equally as chilling.

In an instant, he was gone in a puff of smoke, his voice seeming to echo all around you and even within the confines of your skull. Low and quiet, but haunting. “You know you were never in control, right?”

You were never in control.

You could only watch almost lifelessly as Idia appeared in front of the protagonist. Everyone, everything, began to sound so far away. The crackling fire of the torches on the wall, the voice of the suspicious immortal and wary mortal in the distance, the low howling of the wind beginning to pick up, each one fell on deaf ears.

That one parting line, just five words, made you question everything that you had worked for thus far. Again, there was the question: how much Idia know? Have you been played for a fool? For all your days here, you had been through hell and back, quite literally, doing his bidding in the hopes to exploit the situation and create an ending that suited your preferences. Had he known this, or was it his choice of words messing with your unstable mind? Just as he insinuated that your presence was permeating throughout his mind, this god was driving you mad!

The plot appeared to be progressing as intended, the Lord of the Underworld attempting to trick the Hero into a deal they could not refuse. When Idia snapped his dark bony fingers, instead of seeing plum colored garbs and wavy brown locks of Meg, you felt that dreadful sensation of the cold dead wind knocking the air out of your lungs as you suddenly found yourself thrust into the spotlight of the center colosseum.

All eyes, the two pairs in the vicinity, were on you. You felt yourself go pale. There was a reason Idia had mentioned the fact that the hero knew you existed, and this was it. It was a warning, a hint to his plans. Somehow, someway, the hero cared, and it should have never happened. Why wasn’t Meg here instead?

The hero’s bright blue eyes sparked to life with familiarity. Any mild irritation she expressed while interacting with the immortal were quickly dashed and replaced by genuine concern. “It’s you––”

Immediately your gaze traveled to the Lord of the Underworld, who appeared irked by the mere presence of the protagonist that has gotten in the way of his every attempt. Idia hardly even looked at you, even as the words came rushing out past your lips, “This wasn’t––”

Those cold wisps of smoke gathered, materializing into a rope-like object that restricted your movements. It binds your wrists together, covering your mouth to prevent any sort of noise from leaving your throat.

This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Why was this happening?

Just before you could hit the dirt ground, the hero’s warm hands inches away from your flesh as she extended her arms out to catch you–– snap! The snap of Idia’s fingers caused that dreaded cold lifeless air to hit you like a slap as you were whisked away from strong safe arms.

For a few sparse seconds, you were in complete and utter darkness. It was cold. Just you and your thoughts, with one more prominent than others: Idia had used you. Toying with you like one of the pawns on his board, pinning you against the unbeatable foe he was currently facing. The god utilizing you as if you were the secret ace up his sleeve, but why? What was stopping Heraclea from decimating you just as she had to his other pawns?

Again, you heard the snap, and you were back in the colosseum. Rapidly you scanned your surroundings, growing more and more disorientated with each snap of his fingers that tossed you back and forth from space to space until you couldn’t tell right from left. What you could still detect was the solid surface beneath you, like those uncomfortable rigid stone benches where the audience would spectate the bloody battles.

“–– that’s the trade off. You give up your strength for twenty-four hours, specifically the next twenty-four hours, and the mortal you’ve been looking for is as free as a bird.” Idia prattled on, speaking quite rapidly whether out of habit, out of the jitters, or due to the time-crunch, but it could’ve been all three fueling his fast-talk. “I mean, you do want them safe, don’t you? That’s the mortal you’ve been looking for, isn't it? The one you’ve spotted in multiple cities, right? Sorta small and meek, the distinct horn-things they got going on there, sad little face, kinda hard to miss ‘em.”

Heraclea had been looking for you. The hero had spotted you in cities–– and the only time you were in civilization was when you were tasked to set up the disasters and accidents that the hero would come to face. Were you sloppy and was this accidental, an opportunity the Lord of the Underworld decided to take full advantage of? Or was this always his intention from the very beginning?

How many times had Heraclea spotted you to grow attached, at least enough to the extent that Idia felt he could safely bet on the hero risking her divine strength to spare you? Each moment flashed through your mind, as you dashed through alleyways and backroads, with the help of Ortho, each time setting off a disaster or a beast to challenge the hero. While Ortho had his strange metallic body which levitated and his holograms to disguise himself, you only had your own two legs to run and a cloak to conceal yourself. How many of those times of sneaking past corners, weaving through crowds, disappearing behind buildings, had Heraclea seen? So engrossed in these thoughts, that you practically missed the intense verbal exchange between the two.

While Heraclea was naive, she wasn’t downright stupid, and Idia merely wanted this to hurry along to remain on schedule.

“––What do you owe these mortals, hm? This is the mortal you’ve wanted to save! Them and their sorry eyes.” In one swift movement, Idia was beside you, his thin fingers forcing you to look straight at the protagonist.

You couldn’t scream, you couldn’t yell, you couldn’t cry. How different would this have turned out, if instead, you had risked turning to Heraclea for help in the very beginning?

Those blue eyes, the kindest blue eyes in the world, peered at you from afar. Was that pity in her eyes as she looked at you?

The god pinched your cheeks between your fingers, as he made you look at her. Really look at her, the woman which you were planning to sacrifice to save your own skin. The woman who was currently contemplating on saving you at her own expense, even if she had no idea that you had aided in the countless attempts to kill her thus far. It’s like Idia wanted you to really get a good look of her before she was gone. “Are you for real going to look straight at that miserable little face and say no? I mean, talk about a letdown. I thought you cared for them––”

“Stop it!” Cutting him off, the hero’s soft gaze at you turned to frown once she focused on the pale immortal. It only took one second. Just one second for her to cave, just as what was intended. You feared being labeled as an enemy by her, but apparently, Idia did not feel the same sort of trepidation. “Swear. Swear that they’ll be safe from any harm.”

Finally letting go, Idia shrugged nonchalantly as he slowly approached Heraclea. He didn’t plan on harming them anyways. This worked out even better than what was imagined. Now, there was absolutely no use for Meg, no need to keep him from harm when it was his own imp that had to be shielded. An imp that risked the lives of others to keep themself safe, and an imp that the Lord of the Underworld wouldn’t allow any harm to befall. “Yeah, fine, whatever. This mortal here remains safe, otherwise you get your strength right back. Everyone goes home happy. M’kay, deal?”

As soon as he outstretched his pale hand, his black-tinted fingers reaching forward, Heraclea eyed his appendage with suspicion. As if she half expected the black on his fingertips to be some sort of deadly poison that would infect her as soon as she touched his hand. Her blue eyes glanced at you for a brief moment.

“Hey, you hear me? Look, you wouldn’t get it, but I’m on a schedule. I need an answer, like, now.” For a flash, a quick moment, his normally calm blue mane appeared to spark red and flicker higher and further across his shoulders.

Again, the hero looked at you. For all she knew, you were an innocent soul held hostage by a god. Yet you were far from innocent.

“Going once.”

You were watching the valiant woman practically seal her certain doom.

“Going twice––”

A fate in which you helped form and doing nothing to stop it.

“Alright…!” Heraclea looked at her own calloused hand with apprehension, but thrust it forward before any hesitation could kick in.

As soon as their hands connected, Idia gave an eager toothy grin. You could only watch as the life and energy was practically drained out of the hero as she sank slowly to her knees like being pulled down by intense crushing gravity. As soon as they let go, it was like seeing the color fade from her. Her healthy glowing tan was reduced to an ashy almost-gray hue, her eyes dimmed as they lost their spark of energy, and she could barely even stand on her own two feet.

Idia no longer held any regard for the now simple mortal, not even sparing her so much as a glance as a wave of his fingers caused the hefty weight she had been training with, to float before crashing against her, practically tossing her to the other side of the colosseum.

You had no idea if she were alive or dead, or nearly dead but left just breathing to receive torment from the titans that would be released only momentarily. There wasn’t even any time to ask or to check her pulse, as Idia snapped and suddenly your restraints dissipated into thin air.

“See, didn’t I tell you, you get into people’s heads?” He remarked far too casually. With another snap, there was chariot-like contraption summoned.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the rubble the hero had landed in. You waited, searching, anticipating some sort of movement. A sign of life.

“Don’t look at her anymore.” Upon seeing this, Idia frowned deeply. The tips of his fiery hair sparked warm hues, the flames growing taller and casting longer shadows. “Why are you still looking at her?” A final movement of his hand had his fingers land on your chin, keeping your head in place so his glowing eyes were peering right down at you. The worst eyes in the world. “Don’t wanna be late now, after all our hard work. If there’s anything left of Heraclea, we’ll have the titans handle the remains so there won’t even be bones to bury. You wanted this, didn’t you? Don’t let the guilt eat you alive now, not when you knew what you were getting into. Usually I’m the downer, but I don’t get why you look so shocked. I’m granting you a front row seat to this cosmic takeover biz, my Puny Little Imp.”

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