Finn lay on the ground, vision a blur. His body was limp. His breath shallow. And the girls... were still holding onto him for so ungodly reason.
He wasn’t even sure if he was awake anymore.
Everything felt foggy. Distant. Like that mont before sleep when your brain just gives up and your soul goes offline.
This was it. Finn was done. Burnt out.
Emotionally overdrafted. He had entered the void—and frankly, he didn’t hate it.
Finally, peace. No chaos. No screaming. No divine ltdowns. Just... darkness.
...until he rembered what happened the last ti he blacked out around these won.
His eyelids twitched.
’Wait,’ he muttered weakly inside his brain, ’am I... safe?’
Probably. Probably. Right? What’s the worst they’d do—draw sothing on his face?
Then it hit him.
Majestria.
She once made him praise her in his sleep. Out loud. Like a divine chant. He giggled nervously at the mory of her admitting to such a thing to Mimas.
Thanks granny!
Then his smile faded.
Lickthorn.
Oh no.
And Chestelle... well, she’d probably just sit next to him like a loyal bloodthirsty pug. But Lickthorn?
Only the gods knew what she’d do. And frankly, he wasn’t sure even they wanted to watch.
She might... do things.
Finn’s soul scread internally. ’Shit—I can’t move!’ His limbs felt like rubber. His muscles were shot. He was a body pillow waiting to be violated.
’Please... soone save ! I don’t want to be touched while I’m unconscious!’
BAM.
Sothing hit him.
Finn groaned ntally.
BAM.
Again.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
The impacts kept coming like a one-sided boxing match. It took a mont... but soon the pain reached his nerves, jumpstarting his body like a car battery hooked to a toaster.
"GET UP, YOU USELESS HUMAN SHIT!"
Oh no. That voice.
"OH GOD!" Finn cried as another fist slamd into his back. His entire spine scread.
WHACK!
"I said GET UP, you crusty excuse for a degenerative being!" Majestria roared, fists glowing with divine fury.
"STOP HITTING !" Finn finally managed to croak, turning his head slightly—only to see her straddling his back, smiling like Satan in lip gloss.
"Oh?" she cooed, eyes gleaming. "Doesn’t look like you’re awake yet."
’She’s not a goddess... she’s a sadistic demon in cosplay!’
Fueled by sheer survival instinct, Finn forced himself up—Majestria yelped as she tumbled off his back and smacked into the dirt like a dropped mirror.
"MY BODY! MY SMOOTH, BEAUTIFUL SKIN!" she wailed.
Finn staggered upright, panting, dazed, and very much traumatized. He turned to the others.
Lickthorn and Chestelle stood off to the side like background NPCs who’d just watched a murder.
"You two saw all that and thought—’h’?!" he shouted in disbelief.
They looked down, silent, guilty.
Chestelle mumbled, "She told us to move away... said you owed her sothing."
Finn blinked.
"Owed her WHAT?! A freakin’ beatdown?!"
Majestria was still flopping on the ground behind him like a fish struck by lightning.
"I’M GONNA KILL YOU!" she howled, fists sparking with holy vengeance.
Finn just stared at her, blinking slowly.
"...And I was beginning to think she was sane."
Majestria was still crying.
Not the elegant, tragic tears of a divine beauty. No—this was full-on despair sobbing. The kind toddlers did after you took their candy and then punted the candy into a volcano.
Finn, despite being a generally weird perverted creature, actually began to feel bad.
Without thinking, he stepped forward and gently scooped her into his arms.
It was a mistake.
Because the mont he did—she wrapped her hands around his neck and started strangling him.
His eyes bulged. "W-What are—?!"
Her voice was cold, low, and deadly.
"Don’t ever throw to the ground like that again..."
She stared into his soul with the possessiveness of soone who didn’t believe in personal boundaries or free will.
Finn whimpered. And then, because he had no survival instincts whatsoever, he stuck out his tongue and whispered,
"Choke harder, mommy."
Her grip tightened.
"You saying that won’t—"
Plup.
Finn faceplanted straight into her cleavage.
Her hands loosened imdiately in stunned realization.
"AAAAAAGH! YOU DISGUSTING, PERVERTED—!" she shrieked, whacking the back of his head repeatedly.
But instead of letting go like a normal person, she clung to him harder—crawling onto his back like so demon-powered roach in divine lingerie.
Finn stood there, frozen, not sure if he was winning, losing, or hallucinating from oxygen deprivation.
Then her grip returned—this ti around his neck—and she leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear.
"We are not even... until I say so," she whispered darkly. "So watch your back."
Finn just blinked.
He didn’t know whether to feel afraid, aroused, or file a lawsuit.
He looked over at Chestelle and Lickthorn—both still standing on the sidelines like silent witnesses in a murder trial.
"I will rember this," he said flatly, eyes full of betrayal.
They looked away in guilt. Chestelle, confused. Lickthorn? Fully enjoying the show, possibly filing it away in a ntal fantasy folder.
Finn sighed and started walking again, Majestria still clinging to him like a backpack with emotional issues.
He looked back and, Finn recognized where they were.
"This is where we t Granny Plops," he muttered. Which ant...
"We’re almost back to Moistvile..."
The cursed swamp town awaited. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl.
But another thought hit him mid-step, and he glanced back over his shoulder.
"...Hey. Majestria."
"What is it?" she replied, gripping his shoulders harder like she was ready to suplex him if he said sothing dumb.
"Why the hell did you beat when I was unconscious?"
She didn’t miss a beat. "Because my divine punches can restore energy to soone. And also... reasons you mortals wouldn’t understand."
There was a pause. Her eyes narrowed at his head.
"...And this hat. It’s in my view. It blocks my reach when I want to grab your hair after you piss off."
Finn’s eyes widened. "You are not touching the hat."
"I can and I—"
"If you do, I’m throwing you off into the Moistvile mud," he snapped. "No hesitation."
"You—"
"Oh, I would," he cut her off like he could see the future. "I will suplex you into swamp water like an unwanted couch."
Majestria growled, but didn’t say another word.
Finn kept walking, back toward the cursed town of Moistvile.
Because of course, of course, they had to return to hell.
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