A Son From Lands Unknown (PJO x Male Reader)

Father and Son Bonding

"Wait, Mammon?" (Y/N) asked, unsure if the devil in front of him was really his father.

"Si, filgliolo," the Greed demon replied before rattling his shackles. "I'm sure you have questions, and I'd love to answer them, but I'd prefer to do so out of these chains."

"R-right..." (Y/N) pulled his pistol from his coat and fired at the posts holding Mammon to his spot. As soon as the gun was drawn, Mammon raised an eyebrow.

"Dove, in nome di Papà, hai preso questo?" Mammon asked. "How did you get that?"

"Stole it from a casino," (Y/N) explained. "Stolas's vault."

Mammon chuckled. "Ah, that's my boy." (Y/N) turned the gun in his hand preparing to give it back to Mammon, but he just held up his hand, saying, "Nah, nah, keep it. I got a thousand of 'em back in Hell. Amazing what Colt, Browning, Garand, and a little infernal magic can do. "

That put a smirk on (Y/N)'s face. "Y'know, for the Lord of Greed, you aren't acting much like it," he said.

"Consider it a long-term investment." Father and son hugged each other, both ignoring the chains that were still rattling from Mammon's ankles and wrists. The moment was interrupted, however, when the two heard slow clapping from behind them.

Out from the shadows of the cavern walked the owlish figure of Stolas, dressed in that same purple suit that he was wearing back in the Lotus, except the torchlight of the cavern made his features clearer. (Y/N) realized that to call him lanky was an understatement. Were it not for the fact that (Y/N) already knew that he was a demon, he'd have thought Stolas a famine victim. He was wearing the same purple suit as he had been in the Lotus Casino, but his hair had significantly greyed, like a human getting up there in years.

"So, you managed to beat me here and free your old man," Stolas said, annoyance lacing his voice. "I suppose I shall just have to kill you both then. I really wish you'd just stayed here, Greed. Coups are so much easier when the old leader's aLIVE!" Stolas lashed forward, delivering a kick with his leg that he had transformed into the talons of a bird. (Y/N) ducked beneath while Mammon jumped backward. (Y/N) held his gun firmly in both hands, barrel pointed straight at Stolas's head.

"Walk away, Stolas," Mammon urged, "and you'll be spared the bottom of the Lake."

"Better the Lake than fading," Stolas compared. "But you'd know nothing, NOTHING, about the fear of that, wouldn't you?" (Y/N)'s face softened at that.

"What do you mean?" Mammon asked.

"You're scared," (Y/N) said. "Afraid of the closest thing to dying, truly dying, that immortals can get to."

"What do you mean, figliolo?" Mammon asked, turning to his son.

"The Greeks told me about it," (Y/N) started. "Fading is the death of an immortal, true death. Humanity no longer believes in any of you, at all. Whatsoever. Sure, your name might be in a dusty old book, but people thinking you're actually real? Or remembering your symbols and tying them back? That's not happening for our owly friend anymore. Every time someone thinks of the Devil, it reinforces you, Dad. Stolas has no such luxury."

"Wait, that's what this is about?" Mammon demanded. "We could've given you more contracts, birdbrain, all you had to do was tell us!"

"Tell that to Astaroth," Stolas muttered with indignation. "He told you seven, and look where it got him! He's not been heard from since the Black Plague!"

"What are you on about?" Mammon asked, a cheeky smirk on his face. "I was just talking to him... the other..." Mammon's smirk faded, realization striking. "Oh, Padre..."