#but if we allow God to direct the arrow of our hearts towards Him

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

sorry not sorry but its twisted that people take Christian media and try to twist it around to fit and affirm their gender ideology

[theweepingwitch]

The Road to Avalon - Chapter 2, The Paladin Camp

Notes: The Weeping Monk x f!reader

Been a bad time, but here you go..

Warnings: non descriptive torture, violence.

Chapter 2 - The Paladin Camp

The monk had thrown Gawain over the back of his horse. As you were not injured, he tied your hands behind you, and put another rope around your neck. As he tightened the rope, you were able to get a close look at his face. You froze in shock, and stared at him. His eyes. Not just his eyes, but your fey senses confirmed his identity. He met your eye only briefly, but long enough to see the look on your face. You knew. He turned away quickly, and led the horse out of the woods. It was bad enough the knight had seen his hand change in the leaves, now he had you to worry about.

You watched Gawain bounce on the horse, and you prayed that he would survive long enough for you to get to him.

It didn’t take long to reach your destination.

Your heart pounded as you saw the white tents of the paladin camp. Since you left Avalon, you had only seen the occasional Red Paladin, having spent most of your time in Nemos, and always well protected. This place was crawling with them. As the monk walked through the camp, paladins began to take notice of the scene. Several of them spat in your direction, curses of “Witch!” being thrown at you. Their words didn’t bother you, but you knew all too well the damage their glinting weapons could do.

The monk brought the horse to a stop before a large tent. Paladins had begun to surround the area, curious what was happening. Two men emerged from within, one in red with a white beard, the second; younger, clad in black robes. The bearded man approached the monk, raising his hands in welcome.

“You had us worried, my son.” he said. Son? You frowned at the two in confusion.

The man in black stepped forward.

“Is this him? Is this the famous Weeping Monk?” he asked, a note of admiration in his voice. The bearded man looked annoyed, but turned toward the man slightly.

“His Holiness has sent Abbot Wicklow to observe us in our campaign against the Fey.” He composed himself, and walked toward the horse.

“So... what have you brought us?”. The hooded man stepped aside to allow the red man to inspect his haul.

“The Green Knight, and someone he takes orders from.” he said. The red man clapped his hands together, then motioned for two paladins to take Gawain off the horse. Two others grabbed your arms and untied the rope.

“God smiles on us today. Oh yes.” The man you guessed now to be Father Carden stood before Gawain, a nasty look in his eye. He addressed Abbott Wicklow.

“This one...This one likes to hide up trees and shoot my men. One of them died in my arms

on a ride through the Minotaur. His name was Peter, if I recall. Fourteen. Butcher boy.

Got a barbed arrow in the neck. Died swallowing his own blood. Are you proud of that, Green Knight? No? No answer? We like that. We have Brother Salt and his kitchens for the quiet ones.” Father Carden smiled. Abbott Wicklow approached Gawain, studying his face.

“Uncanny. He almost passes for human.” he hummed. Father Carden pulled at the rope that held you, pulling your head up.

“Some can, yes. And that's how they spread.” He bent to look you in the eye now.

“By fire...or by steel, you will sing to us. And you will tell us all we need to know

about you, and your witch.” he said, looking down at your chest, his face betraying lecherous thoughts. Gawain noticed and fought against the men holding him.

“You want my words, priest?” he spat. Father Carden stood to tower over Gawain.

“Oh, I do. I do.” he said, almost sweetly. Gawain looked him in the eye.

“Are you sure? I know many things. Many secrets.” Gawain looked behind Father Carden. Towards the Monk. He shifted his weight but didn’t look at either of you. The Abbot's eyes also flicked to the monk, clearly having his suspicions. Father Carden’s voice dropped dangerously low.

“Take them to Brother Salt.”

---

Inside the tent, you and Gawain were tied to chairs. You could do nothing to help him, but it seemed that the monk had hit him to maim but save his vital organs.

“Gawain, I can pray to the Hidden for you, but I don’t know how much they can do.” you said. He nodded, groaning.

“The pain I can handle, I will not talk.” he said, defiant. You knew it was true. He was stronger than anyone you had met to date. Still, you called on the Hidden to be with him. The tent was dark, but you could clearly see the blood-crusted devices hung around the place. It was cluttered, and everything seemed to be specially designed to inflict terrible injuries.

“You, Lianna, you must be strong. They will hurt you but we cannot give into this.” he said, looking up to meet your eye. You held each other's gaze, a solemn knowing of what was to come.

“The monk,” he said suddenly. You frowned.

“What about him?” you asked

“You saw, you would know a fey if you saw one.” Gawain said. You nodded.

“How could he turn on his own kind?” you said, feeling deeply sad for the countless lives lost. Gawain shook his head, looking back towards the tent entrance. Voices were approaching.

“I do not know.” Just then a tall paladin with horrible scarred eyes entered. He was led by another paladin towards a table full of butcher’s tools.

“Do you know me, friends?” the blind man asked.

“Have you heard of Brother Salt and his Kitchen?” the man bent over and splashed water over his head before turning to face Gawain.

“Let me introduce you to some of my friends. God’s fingers, I call them.” He brandished a white hot poker he called Michael in Gawains face.

“Don’t worry, you will meet them all.” He turned his blind eyes to you.

“And you, you will watch what happens to your unholy followers.”

---

You could only watch as Brother Salt did everything in his power to break Gawain. You cried and sobbed, but held your tongue. It would do no good to speak now, they would be killing you both anyway.

Brother salt threw down his latest tool and marched over to his table, wiping the blood from his hands.

“This one breaks slow. Some soup, then we start again, with the woman.” Brother Salt huffed, but was calm as he was led out of the tent. You shuffled your chair over to Gawain, and opened your mouth to speak, but the tent flap flying open again made you stop. It was the Weeping Monk. He walked cautiously around to the tent, stopping several feet away, facing the table. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air.

“Don’t be afraid, Ash Man. We don’t bite.” You stared at Gawain, then at the monk, who had turned to look at the bound man. He had a look of confusion on his face.

“It’s those eyes. The mark of the Ash Folk. There haven’t been any in these lands for centuries. How is it you found your way here?” Indeed, Ash Folk were almost extinct. They had been amongst the first to fall when christians first arrived. You were surprised Gawain knew that identifying mark at all, given how long it had been. The monk was silent.

“Have you just come to watch me die?”

“Why didn’t you tell them, before?” the monk cut him off.

“Because all fey are brothers, even the lost ones.” Gawain said. The monk stood silent, studying Gawain, who groaned in pain.

“This pain, it will cleanse you.” the statement made you scoff. Gawain shook his head.

“You parrot their words, but you know it’s all lies.” he said, “I can feel it in you, my brother.”

“You are not my brother.” the monk snapped. Anger rose in you now.

“They have turned your mind so far inside out that you no longer know the difference between kindness and hate.” you snapped, your words moving the monk to pace around the room. It was only now you noticed the pull deep in your being where your healer's abilities lived. Pain, such unimaginable anguish seeped from the man. You could almost cry from the weight of it.

“Who did this to you?” The monk moved again to stand before Gawain, not looking at you.

“We are saving souls. Your soul.” he said. Gawain glared at the monk.

“Tell that to the little ones that you burn.”

“I don’t harm the children.” Gawain shook with rage.

“You burn their homes, slay their mothers and fathers, and you watch as your red brothers run them down on horses. And you see it all through those weeping eyes. That makes you guilty.” The monk shook his head, and marched toward the tent opening.

“Brother,” Gawain called after him, “You can fight. I’ve never seen anything like it. You could be our strongest warrior. Your people need you.”

“You are not my people!” the monk said again. Gawain gave him a challenging look.

“Then tell them. If this is where you belong, tell them what you are.” The monk stared at him.

“I will pray for you.” he answered. You glared at him.

“And we for you.” The monk gave you a quick glance before rushing from the tent.

You stared at Gawain.

“Are you insane? Bring him to the Fey? After everything he’s done?” you asked. He looked at you, eyes intense.

“You know better than I what we do to bring back our fallen. We don’t know why he is here...but he could be our greatest ally. You have not seen him as I have.” Gawain said. You sighed.

“I doubt we will get the chance. Once the blind man gets back we’re dead.” you said.

No sooner had you said the words, paladins entered the tent. They marched past you and roughly took Gawain away, ignoring your pleas to be gentle. You had never felt so helpless, and you were sure this was the last time you would see Gawain alive. You cried as the sun set, left alone with the dripping butchers tools.

---

You were left alone for so long you had begun to wonder if they had forgotten you were here when the tent flap once again opened.

“Squirrel!” The boy was being dragged by the scruff by an annoyed looking man. The paladin holding him threw him roughly into a chair.

“Don’t hurt him, please he’s just a child.” you begged. The paladin finished tying Squirrel, and turned. He raised his arm and back handed you across the face, leaving blood in your mouth. Your eyes watered as your cheek burned. The paladin grabbed your chin and raised your face to look at him.

“Bite your tongue or I will remove it.” he said, smiling darkly. You stayed silent, but your eyes burned with anger. To your relief he left immediately, beckoned away by someone outside. You turned to Squirrel, whose face was red.

“What happened?” you asked, seeing the dried tears. The boy just shook his head, fresh tears in his eyes. Gawain.

“Percival,” you said gently. He wouldn’t look up or meet your eye.

“Percival, he would be proud of your bravery.” the boy sniffed.

“He made me a knight.” That confirmed it then. He must have seen Gawain first, and been caught.

“No matter what happens, you remember how brave you are, alright?”

---

Night had fallen now. The only light in the tent was the few candles that someone had lit a while earlier. Through the fabric of the tent you could see men sitting around fires, winding down for the evening. A rustling pulled your attention, and Brother Salt made his way back in. He was alone this time, and needed no guide as he made his way around with ease. After a few moments, he picked up a gruesome looking tool. Squirrel’s breathing was speeding up, fear coming off him in waves you could sense without trying. Brother Salt stood before the boy, grinning.

“Shall we play now?” he asked.

“You’re the ugliest of them all! Inside and out.” Squirrel’s shout made you jump in surprise.

“Boy shut your mouth!” you said harshly, but the boy kept going.

“Kill me, fine, but you’ll still be you forever. And thats a worse hell than anything I can think of!” Brother Salt turned to his work table, feeling for, and finding a long knife.

“The tongue first, I think.” he said. Squirrels eyes shot between the knife and the paladins face.

“Go on, I’ll still keep talking, I’ll be in your nightmares talking, telling you how ugly you are. When you try and wake up, your eyes won’t open because you sewed them up like a bloody idiot!” You stared at the child. He was either the bravest or the most foolish boy you had ever seen. The Paladin chuckled, apparently amused by this outburst. He suddenly turned his head, as if to look behind him.

“Who's there?” he asked. The dark form of the hooded monk came from behind the blind man, who smiled.

“Come to watch, my weeping brother?” You stared in shock as the blade slid across Brother Salt’s throat. Quickly, the monk bent forward and cut the boy free, then yours.

“What are you doing?” you whispered. He didn’t answer, but grabbed your arm and the boys, rushing you out into the night.

What the hell he was doing he wasn’t sure. All he knew was he wasn’t about to let a child be alone with Brother Salt, no matter the cost. And it dawned on him how high that cost was. This was a betrayal of everything Father Carden had instilled in him. But the Green Knight's words had got to him. It was all lies…

All he had now was this boy, and fey woman. Getting them to safety was all he focused on.

You held Squirrel as close to you as you could, trying to shield him however you could. Your heart pounded with adrenaline.

The camp was still active, but quieter. Under the cover of darkness, the monk managed to lead you almost to the edge of camp. Almost.

“I wouldn’t.” The monk stopped. You turned to see Abbott Wicklow, and several black robed men in golden masks blocking the path. The monk pushed Squirrel and you behind him protectively.

The abbott cocked his head.

“Does he remind you of someone, this, fey orphan?” he asked mockingly.

“You don't need him.” the monk said.

“Why? Can’t he smell out his own kind like some sort of animal? Or is that just your species?”

This is the end Lancelot thought.

“Find cover.” Not needing to be told twice, you grabbed hold of Squirrel and ran. Thankfully none of the paladins followed. You pushed Squirrel down between some barrels, and threw a sac overtop of you. You could hear the fight, and the sounds of flesh being torn apart. Squirrel pushed up to watch.

“Squirrel no!” you tried to pull him back but he pushed your hands away.

“They’re going to kill him!” he cried. You looked through a space in the barrels and saw him. But man after man fell to his sword.

“My gods…” Never had you seen anything like that. But now the monk was on his knees, swords gone. In your distraction, Squirrel ran back towards the monk, picking up a fallen sword.

“Whose first?!” he shouted.

"No!" You screamed as you rushed out to grab the child.

It was the moment Lancelot needed, with all the strength he could gather he swung his blade and killed the remaining assailants. He stumbled towards you and you rushed to grab him, keeping him on his feet.

"Goliath." He managed to get out, you didn't understand but threw his arm around your shoulders and yelled at Squirrell to follow. You ran as well as you could half dragging the monk towards the treeline. As if sent by God the massive horse you had been brought into camp on appeared. No words were needed as the monk reached for the saddle. You helped him up and lifted Squirrel to sit in front of him. Then the monk reached for you, and you gladly took his hand, sitting behind him. You wrapped an arm around so you could reach the boy but the monk grabbed your hand and pressed it firmly against his chest.

"Hold on."

You barely had time to cling for your life as Goliath took off into the night.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: DND

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord ) Alien: Why must I roll for "initiative"? Human: To see who starts the fight. Alien: I thought that was obvious when I stabbed that human bartender. Human: We'll need to talk about that as well later. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human: You find yourself assaulted by a large group of human brigands rushing down the road towards your party. Alien: I throw money at them. Human: What? Alien: I'm told it fixes most of humans problems. Human: Alright, roll. Alien: *Rolls dice* Human: You throw your coin purse at them and it scatters the contents all over the road. Human: The brigands stop their charge and begin picking up the gold pieces. Alien: Now I wish to shoot them with arrows. Human: What? Alien: I was also told violence was another good human method to resolve issues. Human: Oh gods.... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien: I roll for initiative. Human: Are you sure? Alien: Positive. Alien: This horde of monsters will die tonight. Human: But you're in an orphanage... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien: Why must I charm this store owner? Human: Humans charm people to get lower prices all the time. Alien: Could I not threaten him with my blade for lower prices? Human: No, that would be extortion and illegal. Alien: Are they not the same thing? Human: Are you asking if being nice and threatening to stab someone are the same thing? Alien: In my culture being nice often comes from threatening to stab someone. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human: You caught your thief and now must interrogate them for information. Alien 1: Threaten him! Alien 2: Torture him! Alien 3: Offer to have sex with him! *Human and Alien's 1 & 2 turn to Alien 3* Alien 3: You'd be surprised how compliant humans become when you offer them sex. Alien 1: Is that why you always seem to find the best gear after each looting? *Alien 1 & 2 turn to human DM.* Human: *coughs into hand* ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Human party with one alien friend. playing for several hours.* Human Wizard: Why do you not have a beast yet? Alien Beast Tamer: What do you mean? Human tank: She does have a point; you have no creatures on you. Human Paladin: Are you sure you picked the right class? Alien Beast Tamer: I am literally covered with my beasts. Human Tank: No, you are decked out in the finest gear among us. Human Paladin: Besides, we've been fighting through a cave of mimics for the last hour; what possible beasts could you have tamed si- *group silence* Human Wizard: Tell me you didn't.... Human Paladin: Oh fuck... Human Tank: What is it? Human Tank: What's wrong? Human Wizard: Let me see your sheet. *Alien hands over character sheet* *Reading* Human Wizard: You tamed every mimic we came across?! Human Tank: Then that means all your gear are really..... Alien Beast Tamer: *smiles* ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: Your heart is infected with a deadly disease and only have three days to live. Human Barbarian: Oh really? Human Barbarian: I take my ax and carve out my heart. Alien DM: But you have three days to find a cure. Human Barbarian: I have spoken! *Rolls dice and passes* Alien DM: You successfully carve out your infected but are now dead. Human Barbarian: *Turns to necromancer* Bring me back. Human Necromancer: Done. Human Barbarian: Now to find that dick who poisoned me. Alien DM: You just destroyed an epic quest I had spent three weeks building in the span of ten seconds. Human Wizard: This is why you don't allow a necromancer and barbarian to team up. Human Wizard: They prefer the direct path. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human: I am a wizard! Human 2: I am a Paladin! Human 3: I am a Rogue! Alien: And I am a mimic! *All turn to alien* Human DM: You can't be a mimic as a character. Alien: Why not? Human 1: Because they can shape shift into anything. Alien: So can I. Alien: *Proceeds to shape shift into chair* Humans: *scream in horror* ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien: Why does our paladin player keep killing everyone we meet? Human 2: Because they've adopted the mindset that if someone is even the slightest bit evil they deserve to die. Human 1: It is the safest bet! Alien: I see. Alien: *turns and punches DM* Human DM: What the hell!? Alien: That was for taking the last taco you scum!

[sparklingchan]

Chapter 4|| Stormbringer- Stray Kids Demigod AU

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Felix

Word count : 1.9k+

Warnings : Fight scenes, injuries but nothing too intense.

Genre : Romance, Demigod AU, fluff, angst.

Description: The day of the Capture the flag game arrives and there’s no denying that you and Felix make a wonderful team. Somewhere in the back of your head, you make a quiet note to have him by your side even when the real quests start.

A/N : Y’all I’m so bad at writing action scenes XDD I swear I’m trying to get better at it.

Enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST ||  Click here for introduction to the story and glossary and here for the Stray Kids demigod diaries!

Game mornings have always been your favorite.

Leaving out having to wake up early, you love everything else about game mornings; the little cheer song Apollo kids go about singing, the freshly cut fruits at breakfast which are otherwise a rare sight, camp students being all nice to each other which again is kind of rare, all the Satyrs moving here and there with banners and swords and arrows. The camp feels livelier than ever.

And to Felix, this sight is a complete different world. Almost like a pleasant dream.

Felix watches all the excited kids move around the camp, the jumping Satyr, the hearty breakfast and a new, foreign glow on your face as you sit across from him, explaining the game to him once again.

"Weren't you paying attention the first time?" You deadpan when he asks you to repeat, your front teeth nibbling against your lower lip in annoyance.

Felix smiles sheepishly and tilts his head with a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say 'Not really.'

You end up explaining it to him again because who could ever say no to that smile.

"So Capture the flag game is played in different ways by different Camps all around the world. As for Camp Levanter, we have a special set of rules that are to be followed."

"We're divided into two groups, which are further divided into smaller sub groups. Each group only has one purpose - to capture the flag that has been hidden at the Athena temple on the hill behind our camp. We can use dummy weapons to stop our opponents from getting to the flag first but we're not allowed to fatally hurt anyone or use our powers. Whoever gets to the flag first, wins. Do you understand now?"

Felix nods with a tense smile.

"I'm nervous, y/n." He later goes on to admit as Minho and Eden declare the beginning of the games and call over the participants near the starting line. You glance at him and he is fidgety, like a middle schooler going to his first date. He wears a loose black t-shirt with a pair of extra baggy pants and his fingers play with the blonde strands of his hair.

When he catches your gaze, he smiles ever so sweetly.

You look away.

You feel the adrenaline course through your own veins as you gently pat his shoulder, "We're gonna win this. Trust me."

The other participants soon gather at the starting line, the competitiveness very much distinct in their sharp glances and quiet snickers, a contrast to how it were this morning. You'd never been one to be nervous before and today, you feel more confident than you've ever felt before. You wonder if the boy standing beside you, with his fingers tight around the sharp wooden sword, has something to do with this sudden confident outburst.

"Alright. Everyone, get ready!" Minho grabs everyone's attention with his loud voice, "And.....GO!"

Eden blows the Horn and you turn to look at Felix, sending him a wink,

"We're winning this, Lee."

*

A few seconds into the game and you realise that Felix and you make a bloody wonderful team. He's good with the sword while you're good with the arrows, he has sharp senses while you have sharp reflexes.

Your opponents attack you at the most random, unexpected moment but the both of you happen to defeat everyone of them and move closer to the temple, climbing through the thick mountain forest.

"You know, I didn't think we'd make such a great team. " Felix admits, panting and wincing as a tree branch brushes past a bruise on his arm, "You're not that bad, eh?"

You manage to giggle just before an arrow wheezes past you, missing you by a single inch.

Your heart as if stops beating for a second.

"Shit! I thought we were leading!" You hiss, falling on the ground.

Felix gets ready to defend your vulnerable position, his sword raising in alarm.

While on the ground, you quickly grab an arrow and position your bow in the direction from which the opponents' arrow flew.

You hear crunching of leaves and branches and quiet whispering.

"They're here." Felix mutters.

The footsteps get closer and closer and before you know it, Felix is tackled aggressively onto the ground. You turn around and shoot your arrow, almost blinded by the suddenness of the situation.

"Goddamn it, Han Jisung!" Felix groans as he wrestles for dominance over Jisung, who is laughing almost maniacally.

"Jisung, I swear to-" you are about to get up and run towards the wrestling duo, but an arrow falls onto the ground, just near your feet.

Its your arrow.

"I underestimated you, y/n. You seem to be a pretty good archer." Changbin appears from behind one of the trees, a visible bruise on his cheek from where the blunt, rubber arrowhead must have hit him.

"And I, you." You respond, grabbing another arrow and stretching the string of your bow, "We're going to win this, Changbin. You might as well get going before I bruise your pretty face again."

Your words come from nowhere but a place of playfulness and competition, but Changbin's eyes turn dark.

You quickly run over to cover Felix, who seems to have gained dominance over a very tired Jisung, all of Jisung's arrows having fallen out of the case and onto the ground.

"I could say the same for you." Changbin approaches you, a wooden knife in one hand and a spear in the other.

He attacks and you dodge, smooth like a cat.

"Felix! Go! Get the flag!" You yell and hope Felix realises that Jisung is too tired to keep up a good fight, "Quick! Go now!"

Felix jumps from a panting, sweaty Jisung and runs towards the temple on top of the hill, his footsteps momentarily slowing down as he turns around to look at you, as if for reassurance.

You nod, "Go."

Your eyes turn to Changbin, who has his head tilted with a smirk on his face.

"I have always been a better runner than Felix, you know."

He tries to run past you but you grab the back of his shirt and drag him back, almost slipping in the process. Reflexively, he grabs your hand and forces his shirt out of your fist while you struggle to keep your feet flat on the ground.

Changbin is strong, you realise, extremely strong so when you try to throw in a punch, he dodges it easily.

Your brain is running wild now; your only motive being distracting Changbin from running after Felix.

"He won't go easy on you just because you've grown up together, you know." You say, almost mockingly as he tries to get out of your tight grip. You wonder if his shirt collar might tear because of it.

He scoffs, not bothering to answer but instead reaches for his wooden knife. And in the blink of an eye, the knife slashes across your forehead.

"Oh, God!" You groan, clutching the burning area on your forehead. Your body once again falls onto the ground, your vision extremely blurry.

With barely an eye open, you see Changbin run up the hill but you're quick to move and grab his feet such that he trips and falls down. You drag him down further, while he struggles to climb up.

Your heart beat is in your throat, your vision almost zero and your entire body is as if on fire. You pray to the Gods that Felix comes down the hill with the flag because in this state, you could only hold onto Changbin for so long. And not to mention Jisung who's slowly getting up with loud groans and complains falling out of his mouth.

As if on que, you hear footsteps hurrying down from up the hill and soon an enthusiastic voice follows,

"Y/n! We won!"

You wish to run up and hug the man but in your state, all you can do is let go of Changbin's leg and let out a sigh of relief, followed by a giggle.

"Told you, didn't I?"

* You often find yourself thanking the makers of Camp Levanter for making the Zeus cabin as far away from the others as possible that afternoon. It gives a much needed sense of privacy and the luxury of being able to choose when to socialize.

"I hope it doesn't leave a scar behind." You mutter to yourself, tending to your wounds on the verandah of your cabin.

You dip a cotton ball in an anti septic lotion and gently dab over your forehead, wincing when it stings.

"Need help?" You hear a heavy voice from near the staircase of the cabin and your heart jumps a little at his sight, "If you don't mind."

You run your eyes over the various purple and red marks on Felix's body and you pat the space next to you on the floor for him to come sit on.

"Your friend is dangerous." You remark when he settles down, flashing him your forehead wound.

He shrugs guiltily, "He's just a little aggressive, that's all. He'll come around."

Felix shifts in his seat and takes the cotton ball from your hand, silently volunteering to clean your forehead wound.

The sting is still very prominent, but Felix's other hand rubs comforting circles on your cheek to ease the pain.

"Minho told me that you met mom." He mutters after a few seconds, his lips turned down into a frown. Almost as if the news upset him.

"Yeah, I did." You admit as he applies an ointment and then fixes a bandaid over your wound.

"Have you never met-"

"No, I haven't. I don't know what she looks like or sounds like. My father never told me and she never bothered to show herself." Is he angry that his mother met you and not him?

You purse your lips, the sudden rise in tension making you uncomfortable.

"Hey, hey. I am not angry at you in particular." Ah, Aphrodite kids can feel auras. "I just wished she'd come to meet me as well. I don't know why she doesn't. " he mutters.

"Well," you start, "If it makes you feel any better, she did tell me that she wants you to go with us for a quest. Says its important for you to go."

Felix's eyes glimmer with a sense of relief. "Really?"

"Yes, of course and I'm sure she'll meet you soon." You reassure him, though you yourself weren't sure what Aphrodite might do. She isn't the most motherly entity, according to Hyunjin and the other Aphrodite kids.

"Do you want me to go the quest?"

You are applying the ointment on the bruise on his cheek when he decides to drop that question, catching you off guard.

"Why would my approval matter?" You ask.

"It matters." He almost whispers, "To me."

Heat races to your face at his unexpected yet sweet words. You know you shouldn't feel like this, you shouldn't get flustered because of a boy you met only a couple of days ago but under his unsettlingly calm gaze, you find yourself melting. Bit by bit.

"Okay, enough talk." You shake out of the trance, "Go to your cabin and rest. We leave tomorrow night. I hope you paid attention while Minho was explaining the quest or do I need to repeat it?"

Felix giggles, shaking his head, "I paid attention."

He jogs down the small stairs of your cabin and waves you goodbye, making his way to his cabin.

"And Felix,"

"Yes?"

I want you to come with me to the quest.

"Don't forget to have Ambrosia before bed. It'll help your wounds heal faster."

Oh, silly,silly, y/n!

[xiaomomowrites]

homecoming

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary: “You must not give up now, alright? I, too, wish for Childe to come home. I wish to see him again, and frankly, it scares me how much I want him by my side once more,” Zhongli acquiesces, “I miss him dearly, and all I want is to be able to hear his laugh again. You feel the same about your sister, do you not? But Aether, this kind of loss is something we both must grieve. But what is grief, if not love persevering?”

Aether opens his mouth to begin responding, but his jaw quickly snaps shut as the fate between his palms disappears.

Keqing and Mona gasp loudly from where they sit back at camp. Aether startles, and pulls back to look at him with wide golden eyes.

All four of them look up to the sky, and are astonished to see a single golden star hurtling toward the ground they sit on. Aether gasps, barely containing his scream.

“Oh my god,” Traveler inhales sharply, “oh my god, you-”

“Get out of there!” Mona yells, and suddenly she’s standing up on her chair. Keqing places a steadying hand on the small of her back. “It’s going to crash right into you! Move!”

Or, Zhongli and Aether just want Childe to come home. Their wishes come true.

Find it on Ao3!

A/N: Oh my goodness I wrote this in one sitting before throwing it at my editors and wishing them the best lol. I wrote this in honor of finally pulling Childe, and wow was this a treat to write! And yes, I wrote my own team reacting to Childe coming home. Aether isn't on my team anymore (I benched him back when I was WL3), but I wanted to include him because it isn't Genshin Impact without our favorite traveler. My main team consists of Zhongli, Mona, Chongyun, and Keqing! But now that Childe is with me, he'll be slowly making his way into my main party :)

Just a heads up, Keqing and Mona were written as best friends here, but you can interpret their relationship however you'd like haha

And once again, this fic was inspired by some twitter fanart that I will link in the end notes! Enjoyyyy <3

--

Aether is especially jittery this morning. 

The blond is bouncing off the walls so early in the morning that even Zhongli was taken aback by his energy. The ex-Archon watches him with wary eyes as the traveler paces back and forth in front of the breakfast table, muttering to himself about ‘fates’ and ‘primogems’. Vaguely, Zhongli hears Aether mutter the numbers ‘one hundred and sixty’ and ‘thirty-two-eighty’ as he paces, and the deity ultimately decides he wants nothing to do with what Aether is scheming. The sun is rising and Zhongli has always loved watching the star rise with every inhale. The day starts when the sun wakes up, and it ends when the sun begins to rest. Zhongli closes his eyes, ignoring Aether’s anxious pacing in favor of the serenity of the wilderness they chose to camp out in for the night.

Mona and Keqing clamber out of their shared tent together, pinkies linked as usual. Keqing still dons her elegant silk sleeping robe and her lavender hair spills past her shoulders in cute, candid waves. Her eyes are still slightly hooded with sleep but she’s quick to blink her drowsiness away in favor of the day to come. Mona, on the other hand, is in the oversized tee shirt she bought from Majorie and her usual black tights. Her dark locks are out of their usual twin pigtails and flow down her back, tangled, and significantly less put together than Keqing. She yawns obnoxiously as she shuffles closer to the group.

The astrologist sniffles. “G’morning.” 

“Good morning, friends,” Keqing greets with a small smile of her own and drags Mona to sit across from Zhongli. He offers her a smile. Mona blinks in response. 

“Good morning, ladies. Did you sleep well?” Zhongli responds, and takes Mona’s glare as an answer in itself. “Still not a morning person, I see.”

“Never will be, Mr. Rex Lapis,” Mona sighs, thanking him quietly for the cup of tea he hands her in passing. Keqing makes a beeline for their makeshift kitchen to make the unruly bunch some breakfast. Zhongli always handles the tea, as picky as he is about his morning tea, and Keqing always handles breakfast. 

“I assume young Chongyun will not be awake for awhile,” Zhongli chuckles, bringing his cup to his lips. 

Keqing scoffs from the kitchen, “You can expect him around noon, Zhongli-xiansheng.”

Xiansheng.

Try as he might, he’s associated the suffix to a certain ginger. A ginger who he misses dearly, but hasn’t seen since he left for Snezhnaya in a hurry. Zhongli’s heart swoops. He left without so much as a goodbye, leaving Zhongli to pick up the pieces he left Liyue in and the unfortunate state of his heart. The thought of not seeing Childe ever again ate at him continuously until he felt hollow inside, and all he had left was a familiar ache every time the ginger came back to haunt his dreams. All Zhongli wanted was to know if the latter was okay, but with the way he had deceived him, he wasn’t sure if he deserved to know. As someone who greets death as if it were an old friend, never seeing Childe again simply because the circumstances do not allow it upsets him far more than he’d like to admit. Life, human life, was too short for Zhongli to be sitting around wasting time. But no matter how many times he’s preached this to himself, the ex-Archon still struggles with taking the steps to make contact. 

How would he even begin, anyway?

The Harbinger was stuck with his Harbinger duties. Childe had a family to tend to and treasure hoarders to chase. It wasn’t like Zhongli could warp to Snezhnaya and sweep him off his feet; that would be inappropriate and selfish of him. And yet the idea of seeing him again, of hearing his laugh, watching him smile, pay for his food with that adorable expression of his, it almost makes him want to leave to see him right now. But he can’t. The situation simply does not allow it. 

Right?

“Two minutes!” Aether suddenly yelps, making Mona jump in her chair. She whips around to glare at the overzealous traveler. Keqing’s head snaps in his direction and almost drops the pan she’s frying fish on. She clicks her tongue in mild annoyance. Zhongli frowns, his curiosity getting the best of him. 

“What are you so anxious about, Aether?” 

“You don’t understand, Zhongli!” Aether whips around, his crazy eyes locking onto Zhongli’s amber irises. “This team needs an archer. We need an archer. This is non-negotiable! I can’t keep bothering Keqing to shoot those stupid water birds if she can’t throw her hair pin that far! We need arrows, Zhongli, arrows!”

Keqing makes a small noise of offense.

His arms flail in the air, desperate to make everyone in the room feel the panic he is currently sinking under. 

“Alright, alright,” Zhongli hushes him, unsure of why his friend was so disgruntled in the first place. As far as he knew, it was another normal day full of daily commissions and mindless material farming. “We need someone adept at long range fighting. But what does that have to do with your current state of distress?” 

“Mona said that today, his chances are increased by two-hundred percent. Right, Mona?” Aether’s gaze suddenly locks onto hers. She blinks.

“Yeah,” she responds, “but we had this discussion already, Aether, Childe’s rates are increased but that doesn’t guarantee you the fifty-fifty-”

“Childe?” Zhongli interrupts, interest suddenly piqued. “What does this have to do with Childe?”

Fifty-fifty? The more the conversation went on, the more confused Zhongli grew. 

“Agh!” Aether scrambles, “I have to go! It’s happening!” 

Zhongli watches with twice the amount of curiosity he had two minutes earlier. The mention of Childe has his heart racing faster than he’d like to admit. 

Aether frantically pulls out a bag full of intertwined fates and rushes out to the open field ahead of them. The bag is absolutely loaded, filled to the brim and overflowing with these small, circular things that, in his six thousand years of living, he has never seen before. They are colored blue and pink, and they mix together and sparkle so divinely that Zhongli finds himself entranced by their color alone. He has read about them and their uses in the past, but he has never seen someone actually wish upon them.

Mona sighs around her teacup. “He gets like this every time I tell him someone new is coming,” she shakes her head wistfully, “I always tell him to stop spending so much of his mora on these fates! They’re not good for the economy-”

“And what do you know about the economy, Mona?” Keqing chuckles, coming around with plated food for the trio, “you spend the entirety of your paychecks immediately on the newest hot astrology item. Not that they’re not important to you but I’ve told you before that you ought to be careful with how you spend your mora.”

Mona’s jaw drops. “What!” she fumbles, “I am plenty responsible with my mora! And the things I buy are completely valid and of high rarity, thank you!”

“Hmm, is that why you almost starved and ate nothing but mushrooms for three months?” Keqing teases, nudging Mona’s mouth open with chopsticks holding fish. The astrologist pouts, but opens her mouth to eat, anyway. She’s right, but Mona would never say that to her face.

Zhongli doesn’t pay attention to their bickering. 

Instead, he fixates on the way Aether scurries out and dumps the bag of fates out on the open field before picking them up, one by one, until ten of them are bunched up in his arms. Aether flops down on the grass beneath him and folds his legs underneath himself. The traveler hunches over the fates, huddling them close to his chest, and Zhongli can barely see his mouth moving as Aether begins to wish upon ten stars. With every word spoken, each fate slowly starts to disappear. The more his mouth moves, the more the fates begin to disintegrate from his arms. 

A loud whirring noise above their heads suddenly takes place. It gets louder as it gets closer, and Zhongli cranes his neck to see stars hurtling toward Teyvat. He feels panic bubbling up in his chest as he sees the bunch go straight for his friend.

“Aether!” he yells, “Get over here, it’s dangerous out in the open!”

“I’m fine!” he hollers back like a stubborn child. “Ugh, dammit!”

Zhongli looks back up, and is baffled to see that one of the stars has turned purple. What in Celestia’s name-

Barbara appears before them, and Zhongli’s eyes all but bulge out of his head. Celestia, he’s too old for this. The young nurse is not the only thing to appear, though. Zhongli observes the various weapons that litter the ground and surround Aether’s feet. The blond observes them with a scrutinizing gaze, nudging the three star weapons with his foot and pushing the four star weapons aside for later. How peculiar.

Mona, on the other hand, smiles and waves a hand at her fellow water catalyst. “Barbara!” She hollers, “It’s good to see you!” 

“Mona!” the young idol responds with a blinding smile, before focusing her attention back on Aether. The traveler sighs, gives her a quick hug in greeting, and sends her on her merry way back to Mondstadt after apologizing profusely for the inconvenience. 

Keqing snickers. “It’s always so funny watching him get so intense about wishing.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Mona adds, “Remember how much he screamed when he finally got us?” 

“Oh yes,” Keqing smiles around her cup, “I remember him throwing these strange artifacts at me and shoving a sword in my face, demanding that I use it, as if I don’t already have my own weapon!” She waves her hand dismissively, reminiscing her days when she was first introduced to the team. 

Mona tips her head back and laughs heartily. “Oh, yes. He took my book away from me and gave me my lovely eye of perception. I must say, it’s a bit of a downgrade from my five star weapon, but I do feel as if I deal more damage this way.”

Keqing hums in agreement. “Likewise.”

Zhongli is quiet. 

All he remembers from joining Aether’s team is being pulled at the last minute and being tackled into a hug as soon as he appeared. The traveler had all but pushed the skyward spine into his hands, and told him to hold onto what looked to be archaic petra artifacts. Zhongli had cocked his head, confused, but followed along anyway. What Aether was doing seemed important, regardless, and he decided to support his endeavours from there on out.

Now he watches with bated breath as Aether curls around another set of ten fates. Zhongli is beginning to understand what he is doing, but he fails to decipher what Childe has to do with any of this. His rates are increased? What in Celestia’s name does that even mean?

Aether begins wishing upon ten more fates and the abrupt whooshing above their heads starts up once more. One of the stars morph midair into purple once again. 

Keqing and Mona sigh. 

Zhongli just wants to understand.

Aether punches the grass beneath him. 

A young woman appears before them along with another unnecessary plethora of weapons. She’s blonde, just like the last one, but she dons two pigtails and an eyepatch. A strange electric bird hovers around her, too, and Zhongli can’t help but wonder why she is dressed the way she is; she’s covered in purple and black, cocking one hip as if she owned the world. Zhongli is unsure about the energy she exudes. But in fairness, it is far too early to judge one’s character on nothing but appearance. Still, he watches carefully. 

“Fischl,” Aether breathes, slumping against the floor, “hello.”

“Traveler,” she greets. “What exactly am I doing here? I will have you know, as Prinzessin-”

“Der Verteilung, you have many duties at home you must attend to, lest the kingdom you rule with grace and elegance burn to the ground without your remarkable leadership,” Aether finishes for her, “I know, I know. Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to grab you. You can go home.”

Fischl harrumphs. “I’m relieved to know you are aware of my importance. Good day to you, strange traveler.”

And then she’s gone. 

Zhongli sighs, pushing himself up from the table and ignoring the way his knees disagree with the sudden movement. 

“Where are you going?” Keqing asks, helping herself to another cup of tea.

“I’m going to talk to Aether,” Zhongli declares, “He seems...rather troubled, and I wish to help.”

“He gets like this every time,” Mona reminds him, voice softer than it was two minutes ago, “it’s really nothing new.”

Zhongli shakes his head. “It does not make it right to let him sit in his anxiety like this. Perhaps he could use a friend.”

Mona shrugs and lets him go. As he walks away, he hears the girls behind him begin to talk. 

“Does Zhongli have a thing for Childe?” Mona asks in a hushed breath. Keqing’s eyes widened comically.

“Not that I know of? Why, did you sense something?” She leans in closer, ever the gossip. Mona shuffles so they’re speaking in hushed tones, even though Zhongli can definitely still hear them. He chuckles, shaking his head disapprovingly.

The ex-Archon pads over to where Aether sits, frantically bunching together ten more fates. Zhongli sighs, and bends to sit next to him. His back screams in protest. Goodness, mortal life is getting to him. 

“Aether,” he begins, “I worry for your health.”

“I’m fine, Zhongli. I’ll be fine as soon as he gets here,” Aether answers without even sparing the elder a glance. He picks up fates and observes them carefully to inspect their quality, as if he were picking ripe apples out from the grocery. 

“And who exactly are you waiting for?” Zhongli asks, indulging the blond for a moment.

“Childe!” he yells, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The latter sighs. He, too, wishes for Childe to appear, but it simply did not work like that. One cannot summon another’s presence upon demand. Childe was too busy for that, anyway.

“Aether,” he begins, “you are anxious, friend, and I implore you to take a break from this please-”

“Zhongli,” traveler shuffles on his knees to look at him, “I have spent the last three months working my ass off for these fates, I’ve spent more mora than I’d like to admit, and I’ve spent far too long in that godforsaken spiral abyss scraping for three hundred primogems each time I freeze my ass off in floors nine and ten and it sucked, Zhongli, but I’ve worked hard and I need this, okay? I need Childe to come home. Because I need to get stronger, and I need a stronger team because I need to find my sister because I know she’s out there and, and-”

Zhongli raises a hand to quiet him. Oh, there was much to unpack here. His heart breaks for his friend’s state of distress. He places a comforting palm on Aether’s shoulder, lowering himself even more to look his friend in the eyes. The traveler looks a bit haggard, obviously from waking up early in anticipation. Zhongli wishes he could take his pain; he wishes he could take away the longing he desperately felt for his sister. But unfortunately, there was nothing he could do, so he offers his best comfort, instead.

“It’s alright,” Zhongli mutters, “I understand. You have worked hard, and you deserve a win. But Aether, whatever comes will come. Whether or not you ‘win the fifty-fifty’, you will be pushed in the right direction toward your sister, I promise you that. No amount of artifacts or talent books or weapon upgrades can compare to the strength you already harbor, looking for your sister every day despite knowing where she is. You face a battle against the unknown, and that in itself is commendable. Acknowledge your strength, Aether. You have come very far.”

Aether sags against him, letting himself lean forward until his forehead thumps against Zhongli’s chest. The contact is comforting. Everything about Zhongli is so warm and homey, and he smells of sleep and sandalwood. The calming effect is immediate, but his brain is still plagued with anxiety. Oh, Aether can’t bear the thought of Childe not coming this morning. It makes the blond sick to his stomach. Zhongli pats the top of his head soothingly. 

“I know you miss her, but you will find her,” Zhongli continues. Aether squeezes the single fate in his hand anxiously. The blond fidgets with the single intertwined fate, pressing it up against Zhongli’s stomach as he squeezes his eyes shut, willing the tears to go away. He’s so, so tired.

 “You must not give up now, alright? I, too, wish for Childe to come home. I wish to see him again, and frankly, it scares me how much I want him by my side once more,” Zhongli acquiesces, “I miss him dearly, and all I want is to be able to hear his laugh again. You feel the same about your sister, do you not? But Aether, this kind of loss is something we both must grieve. But what is grief, if not love persevering?”

Aether opens his mouth to begin responding, but his jaw quickly snaps shut as the fate between his palms disappears. 

Keqing and Mona gasp loudly from where they sit back at camp. Aether startles, and pulls back to look at him with wide golden eyes. 

All four of them look up to the sky, and are astonished to see a single golden star hurtling toward the ground they sit on. Aether gasps, barely containing his scream. 

“Oh my god,” Traveler inhales sharply, “oh my god, you-”

“Get out of there!” Mona yells, and suddenly she’s standing up on her chair. Keqing places a steadying hand on the small of her back. “It’s going to crash right into you! Move!” 

Aether scrambles backward as soon as he sees the pseudo asteroid plummeting directly toward where they’re both situated. “Zhongli!” he yells, “Move!”

The man in question shakes his head, unable to look away from the shooting star.

“It’s alright,” he responds, a sudden calm washing over him at the sight. Something about it feels so undeniably right. His heart tugs impatiently, desperately wishing to make contact with the ethereal being threatening to crash right into him, like a magnet reaching for its other half. “It’s alright, Aether.”

Seconds before it lands, Childe materializes right in front of him, arms flung wide open and a smile so bright that Zhongli almost winces. 

The wind is knocked straight out his lungs upon seeing Childe’s gleeful face in front of him. It’s no longer a dream, Zhongli realizes. Ajax is here and he is very real and he is definitely plunging toward him at breakneck speed. This is no longer a figment of his imagination, and he has all but less than two seconds to comprehend that before the ginger barrels right into him. 

Zhongi regains himself and digs his feet into the ground, summoning geo shackles from the ground to wrap around his ankles and lock him into place. He braces himself for impact. 

Keqing screams. Mona looks away. Aether watches with wide, disbelieving eyes as Tartaglia comes plummeting out of the sky. He lets out an ugly mix between a sigh and a broken sob of relief. Finally. Celestia knows how much Aether needed this. He’s never been so happy to see an obnoxious red head of hair in his life.

Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax, slams into Zhongli at full force and immediately latches onto him like a lifeline. He wraps his arms around Zhongli’s neck, legs winding around his waist, and clings to him like a koala around a tree. Zhongli responds in kind, pressing Childe to his chest with strong arms that hold him impossibly close. The weights around his ankles drop as soon as he stabilizes the both of them, and the ex-Archon swings him around gleefully. 

Tartaglia laughs, the noise slightly muffled from where his face is pressed into Zhongli’s collar. Tartaglia squeezes him tighter, and Zhongli eventually has to put him down because his back simply does not want to cooperate today. Tartaglia looks at him then, a little winded from his trek through the sky of all things. Cerulean eyes meet gold, and the sight of his freckled cheeks in front of him makes Zhongli feel as if he can do anything, gnosis or not. He is so filled with joy, heart so full of glee that he feels like he might burst. Celestia could redact his position as a god in its entirety and in this moment, he wouldn’t care. He couldn’t care, because immortality has been nothing but a curse to him so far, and growing old with the love of his life is all he ever desired.

“I can’t believe it,” Zhongli breathes, “you’re here?” he cups Ajax’s face gently, holding him as if he were made of glass.

“You called,” Childe responds, hands grasping at Zhongli’s waist. The Harbinger leans forward until their foreheads knock together. “I heard you, xiansheng. So I came.”

“Huh,” Zhongli says dumbly, “that’s all I had to do?” 

“It’s all you had to do, idiot,” Childe scolds him, “I could feel you overthinking all the way from Snezhnaya!” he thumps a fist against Zhongli’s chest playfully. And to his delight, the sound that echoes is no longer hollow. Zhongli’s smile reaches his eyes for the first time in an abysmally long time.

“Childe!” Aether screams. They let go of each other in favor of looking at the one who made their reconciliation possible. “You son of a bitch!” 

Childe’s eyes widen at the unprovoked insult. “What did I do?!” 

“What did you do?” Aether is quick to rip his shoe off and fling it at Childe’s head. It misses, but only narrowly. “What took you so long, asshole!”

Tartaglia cocks his head to the side. “You were wishing for me, too? I only heard Zhongli’s voice, comrade!”

Aether squawks a noise of indignation. “You-!”

“Aether,” Zhongli interrupts their squabble. His hand never leaves the small of Childe’s back. “Thank you.”

The traveler lets himself slump forward, exhausted from draining all his emotional energy so early in the morning. “You’re welcome. Couldn’t have done it without you, Mr. Zhongli.”

“Is everything okay?” Keqing hollers from where she’s helping Mona down from her chair. “I hear a lot of yelling!” 

“Everything is fine!” Aether yells back. Zhongli takes that as their cue to make their way back to camp.

When they arrive, the sun has risen well up into the sky and looms over all of their heads. Chongyun finally clambers out of his tent after he’s completed his ten hours of sleep. His light blue hair is ruffled adorably and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He stretches, yawns, and coughs when he takes too deep of an inhale. The exorcist summons one of his famous popsicles and sucks on it absentmindedly in place of a proper breakfast. He’s exquisite. 

“Morning everyone,” he greets, nodding at the girls at the table. “I heard a lot of screaming. Who’s the new guy?” 

Chongyun watches Childe blearily through sleepy eyes. He blinks, before taking in the newcomer. The first thing the young exorcist notices is the obnoxious head of red hair that barely looks styled. Next, is the mask he wears askew. And finally, the abnormal length of his femurs. Chongyun’s eyebrows furrow. He scratches his head. Why are his legs so long?

Childe leans into Zhongli’s side and grins wickedly upon noticing his vision.

“A cryo wielder, huh?” he snickers, “this is going to be fun.”

--

Mona is horrified to see the way the two never leave each other’s side. 

Where there is Childe, there is Zhongli. Where there is Zhongli, there is Childe. Frankly, it is quite concerning. Do the two ever separate? Do they ever have an individual thought? Do they share those, too? Honestly, Mona thought she and Keqing were attached at the hip. But the fact that they can at least go to the bathroom separately says a lot more than what she can say for Zhongli and Childe. Seriously, these two act as if they’re never going to see each other again.

Regardless, Mona can’t bring herself to be surprised. From the moment she met the wild card that is Tartaglia, she knew that he and Zhongli were a good match. It was undeniable that the two had chemistry. Mona may not have been there for Aether’s adventures in Liyue, but she has seen enough of these two to know that they have quite the history. Although, that’s not the only thing about them that catches her attention. What was especially strange, however, was the way their pinkies would twitch anytime one would stray too far from the other. 

It has been happening for a little over a week. Take, for example, this morning when the two had taken over the kitchen to allow Keqing to sleep in. Tartaglia moved to the far left side of camp to gather some ingredients, and Zhongli’s pinky had twitched and stretched out to where Childe was, not too far from him. At first, Mona had thought it was a Liyuan custom that she had no knowledge of, like the way Zhongli always told her to raise her pinky whenever she would drink. But this felt different. It looked effortless and candid, almost like Zhongli had no idea that it was happening. 

The second occurrence was later in the afternoon when Aether had given them a new list of commissions for the day. Tartaglia was practically vibrating with excitement at the mention of four separate battles, and even offered to handle two of them on his own while the other four (Keqing requested a day off) separated and completed the other two. Aether had looked at him pointedly and shook his head no. They either did this as a team, or not at all. 

Mid battle, while Childe was up against a blazing axe mitachurl, the jade shield that Zhongli had put up for him withered and dropped as soon as the mitachurl raised its weapon to swing violently at Childe. The wild look in its eyes made it very clear that the creature was out for blood, ready to defend the land that belonged to it. If Childe were to fumble for even a second and meet the brandished blade of the axe, it would have been the end for him. 

His eyes widened.

Almost immediately, both of their pinkies twitched in place and stretched out as if reaching for the other. Mona watched the duo from the sidelines with curiosity as she and Chongyun froze a group of hilichurls together. She had sent out an illusory Phantom to continuously deal hydro damage and allowed Chongyun to go crazy with his claymore. The astrologist had sat back and observed the two on the opposite side of the battle field. 

It had gone like this: the jade shield drops, their pinkies flutter, and Zhongli whips around with a level of ferocity and speed she’s never seen before to frantically summon a geo pillar right in between Childe and the mitachurl. 

The Harbinger moves backwards just in time for the pillar to bear the brunt force of the swing, and his head snaps to where Zhongli stood. He stares at him, pointedly unamused with Childe’s recklessness, while he holds two hilichurls away from him with the butt end of his polearm. Childe grin and nods his thanks, and Zhongli rolls his eyes at the overzealous soldier. With a flick of his wrist, the geo wielder summons another shield to encompass Tartaglia as he lets loose on the battlefield. Though this time, Mona can see how the ex-Archon doesn’t let him out of his sight. 

Childe switches to his melee style then. He forgoes his bow in favor of his hydro blades and launches forward while the mitachurl’s axe is stuck in Zhongli’s pillar. 

Mona gasps, and a hand flies up to cover her mouth. Chongyun’s attention snaps to where she stands and gives her a once over to check for injuries. She waves him away, telling him to shut up even if he hadn’t said a word.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the water Childe summons bends the sun’s rays a certain way until a very obvious, very crimson, very rare string of fate is revealed between Zhongli and Childe. It hangs between them languidly, but anytime either of them moves away too far, it’ll be pulled taut. They’re linked together by an invisible thread that Mona has only ever heard stories of; they were stories that spoke of a whimsical and eternal love that lasted liftimes and exceeded generations. The first time Mona had heard about it, she scoffed at the idea of having your partner chosen for you. But as she stands now, looking at Zhongli and Childe as they treat the battlefield as if it were a dance floor reserved for them, it felt almost illegal for either of them to be with anyone other than each other.

Her mind comes to a screeching halt when she realizes just how long Zhongli must have waited to meet him. Six thousand years, Mona ponders. But doesn’t the wait make the reconciliation all the more delicious?

Would you look at that, the astrologist thinks smugly, they’re tied by the pinkies. 

It was never an accident, after all. These two souls, regardless of the six thousand year old gap between them, were meant to be together.

Oh, she has so much to tell Keqing when she gets back.

--

Lovely fanart!

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For @steoevents' SteoVDay

The Quest for Eros' Wayward Arrow (a demigod Valentine's au :)

Tags: 1.7k word count, fluff (??), Isaac's here, vague kinda confession but they get it, so are they together now? who knows.

I pretty much gave up on making an aesthetic for this one, so here's a cute gif I found on Google instead. It fits, I guess, since this is my last arrow! Happy Steo Valentine's everyone 💕

---

Walking the wet pavement on his way to his apartment, Stiles reaches inside his hoodie for his dagger, eirènè. His senses are tingling, alerting him that something is off - something is following him. Inconspicuously, he bumps against a stranger in an excuse to turn around, half-heartedly apologizing, while his eyes scan the space behind him. Nothing suspicious to the common eyes. Then again, monsters lurk behind the Mist.

He pulls the hood over his head and continues walking, his pace faster this time. February in New York is cold, rainy, and with the possibility of snow, but hundreds of people still walk around the city, trickling in and out of establishments. It's going to cause a ruckus if there is a monster trailing Stiles. But it's better to end it before it starts.

Passing by a flower shop with reflective glass panes, he spots it - a disturbance in the atmosphere as it knocks back a potted plant from the sidewalk. Stiles thinks he also hears noises and grunts. Facing forward, he sets his jaw and straightens his spine to get ready. Stiles's fingers close around tightly on eirènè, veering from his direction and turning sharply into an alley, walking faster, leading himself and his pursuer deep into a more deserted location. Up ahead, he finds a narrower passageway, and he makes another turn toward it.

Seconds later, he hears an empty can rattling. He shoulders off his school bag and chucks it to the ground unceremoniously. Then, he pounces.

•••

What he finds himself holding his blade against is not a monster, though. It's Theo in the camp's orange T-shirt, choking on Stiles's arm around his neck. When he realizes who it is, Stiles quickly releases his grip. He stares at the boy wide-eyed, in a mix of confusion and anger.

"What," Stiles gapes as Theo bends to cough. "What are you doing here?" Stiles's arms flail. "And why are you following me? I could've hurt you, you know, dumbass."

Theo points an accusing finger, still coughing a little. "Hey," he glares, rubbing his throat with his other hand. "I slipped a note in your pocket."

Stiles frowns. Someone had slipped a note in his pocket, but that was back at school. "You've been following me since school? I thought it was just a random Valentine's note from-" he cuts himself abruptly. It's probably unwise to be talking to Theo about a nameless admirer.

But Theo is already narrowing his eyes, "Who's giving you Valentine's notes?"

"Hey," another voice grunts out of thin air, male, startling Stiles to action, raising his knife again and making a defensive stance. He sweeps his eyes around but sees nothing. It speaks again. "Could you cancel the glamour now before Stiles sticks his knife to my forehead?"

The accent and dry tone is familiar, and just when Stiles places the voice to its owner, Theo touches an empty space with a sigh, and Isaac, son of Aphrodite, appears of thin air, holding a limp-

"Why are you carrying an empousa?" Stiles cries incredulously, looking alarmingly at the unconscious shapeshifter. It's female with a beautiful face but hideous one hairy donkey leg and the other a prosthetic one made of Celestial bronze - and lying like a sack of flour over one of Isaac's shoulders.

Theo steps forward, pursing his lips. "We're on a quest, Stiles." he says, "And we need your help."

•••

"So, let me recap," Stiles says after Theo and Isaac finish explaining a bit of the situation. "Somehow, a group of empousai got hold of one of the god Eros's magical love arrows." Stiles looks at the two demigods for confirmation. When they both nod, he continues. "And now, they're using that arrow to bewitch young men into entering this blind dating thing where these vampire ladies could suck the poor, loveless guys dry?"

Isaac nods, shifting the limp empousa onto another shoulder. Stiles grimaces at the creature. "Eros called in a favor from my mother to send a quest to retrieve it. Aphrodite appeared to me to do the quest. Ares bonked Theo in the head-" Theo rolls his eyes hard at this. It's a marvel how Theo is an expert at eye-rolling now. He must have picked it up from Stiles someone. "-to come with me. Now, we're on a mission to take back our shared brother's magic arrow on this fine day of hearts and roses. It's all very lovely."

Theo gives Isaac a flat book before turning to Stiles, "Hecate explains that she can't stop the nature of her children, but that she can assist." Theo takes a purple pouch from a front pocket and shows it to Stiles. "The goddess had Lydia send this to us. Invisibility dust. We have enough for the three of us to come in undetected into the building where the empousai are holding the blind dates. At least, for a few minutes."

"What perfect occasion to seduce desperate men to their deaths other than Valentine's Day, huh?" Isaac quips from behind them, grinning dryly.

"Okay," Stiles says nodding, "and why do you need my help exactly?"

Theo pauses for a second, caught off-guard, recovers, then shrugs casually, "You're a very skilled demigod, and from around the area."

Isaac snorts loudly.

"Shut up, Isaac," Theo grinds his teeth without turning to him.

The empousa on Isaac's shoulder shifts and moans, but Isaac commands her to sleep again. She hangs limply once more - just like that. Charm speaking is handy and definitely scary.

Theo shakes his head, exhaling a long-suffering sigh. When he looks at Stiles, he puffs his chest and straightens as if he's about to reveal a life-altering secret. "It's true. We can use your battle expertise. But there's also something else," Theo takes another pause. "The presence of Eros's arrow won't beguile only four people: his children, children of Aphrodite, Hecate's children because it's currently under enchantments by the goddess' followers, and-" he stops again, wetting his lips. "anyone touching or near someone they're in love with."

For a second, Stiles stops breathing, quickly understanding the implication. It still throws him off-kilter, though. Did Theo really just-

"So," Theo speaks again, stepping closer, looking into Stiles's eyes. "I need you with me in this quest."

Isaac makes another impatient noise in the background, but Stiles cannot focus on anything else at the moment. His vision tunnels on Theo and the honesty in his eyes.

Finally, swallowing with butterflies in his stomach, Stiles finds his voice. "How do you know it will work on you?"

For a moment, Theo looks confused. Then, he laughs at the question as if it's ridiculous that Stiles even asked. "It will," he says with absolute certainty that his eyes are bright with it. "After all, it worked on Calypso's island. I have zero doubts."

At the mention of Calypso's island, Stiles becomes aware of the cold pendant of Theo's Christmas gift, sitting on his collarbone with the words for bringing me back from Ogygia where three azurite stones sit as proof of the mythical island's existence. And how Theo came back from it. Stiles's hand reach unconsciously to feel it, now familiar to his skin after over a month of wearing it with his camp beads.

Theo's eyes track the movement, smiling when he realizes what Stiles is touching. It's the first time Theo sees it on Stiles.

Stiles clears his throat, forcing down the heat rising to his face, only faintly aware of Isaac murmuring behind them - probably charm speaking pedestrians to walk the opposite direction or just muttering to himself about the delay. From the corner of his eyes, Stiles sees the son of Aphrodite move the empousa to the other shoulder again. But it feels as if it's happening miles away from him and Theo. Hands falling to his sides, he puts eirènè back to its sheath. Then, Stiles opens his mouth and asks, "How do you know it will work on me?"

Theo falters at that, studying Stiles's face as he considers the question. Then, his gaze drops to where the pendant is and flicks back up with a reply, "Won't it?"

Stiles bites the inside of his mouth to stop the dumb smile threatening to break through his face. But he knows his eyes must be laughing because Theo grins dopily at him, taking cue from his reaction, making Stiles's insides somersault in a giddiness he only ever knew with the son of Ares, of all people.

"You guys are pathetic," Isaac comments, and it's without heat that Stiles kindly tells him to shut up.

"All right," Stiles announces cheerfully after a few seconds of daffy staring, feeling like a total dork. He picks and hoists his school bag on his back. Belatedly, he thanks the Fates that he left all his textbooks in his locker. "Let's go, then."

"Finally," Isaac grumbles, opening his palm expectantly for the pouch of invisibility dust. "Do you realize I've been carrying her for a while now? This girl smells like a fried donkey."

Theo passes it to him, not losing the silly smile on his face, then fishes something from his back pocket. "Here," he hands it to Stiles.

Stiles takes the object. It's- "A Valentine's card?" He asks in amusement, but his heart is dancing in his chest, and he wants to melt inside, giggling. Di immortales. He can deal with cocky, short-tempered, impulsive, asshole children of the War god, but he can't handle the sappy ones. Stiles wants to swoon like no respectable son of Athena should. It's as disconcerting as it's pleasant.

Theo shrugs, looking so attractive with his eyes alight in happiness instead of fury. "At least, I get to give it to you this time. Happy Valentine's Day, son of Athena."

"Are we going or what?"

Stiles allows himself to laugh then, ignoring Isaac. Really, he should be more excited about this development. Aren't children of Aphrodite notoriously enthusiastic about match-making and romances? Stiles opens his backpack to keep the card in safety. He feels inexplicably light at the moment that he thinks he might float. Gods, he never knew he missed Theo, but he desperately did.

"Happy Valentine's Day, son of Ares," Stiles answers, taking Theo's hand when he extends it. "Now, let's go put some bloodsuckers back to Tartarus."

Theo smirks, brandishing his free hand in the air to conjure a weapon, a skill he now artfully masters. Instantly, a celestial bronze sword appears in his hand, folding smaller and smaller until it's nothing but a ring on his finger. It's so fucking hot. "It's a date."

~•~

[going-fancognito]

Shot through the heart

A/N: So, I decided to do part two of @ragefilledmunchkin‘s  Revali x Au S/O ask as a mini one shot. Hopefully this works well with the part one. You probably don’t need to read part one to understand this, but here’s the link if you want  some context. 

Ask: What would happen if Revali’s S/O fell from our universe into theirs? 

(Warning: slight mentions of blood, but nothing graphic)

No matter how many times you visit, the royal gardens still manage to take your breath away.

Different arrays of blossoms surrounded you as far as the eye could see. It was the perfect weather for flower viewing, the morning dew still clinging onto the petals, causing them to glitter beneath sunlight like gems you could only find deep underground. You bend over an area blooming with nightshades, and take a deep breath to savour the citrusy scent that invaded your senses, before slowly exhaling. For a moment, everything was peaceful.

At least it would’ve been, if not for the endless yapping coming from behind you.

Revali sniffed in annoyance. “Yet another stroll in the gardens? Surely there must be something more productive to do than view the same scenery every. Single. Day.”

You hide your smirk. You’d be lying if you said seeing him so frustrated wasn’t a bit satisfying. “Well,” you ask, ”If it’s so bad you could always, I don’t know, leave me alone and do your own thing?” Maybe you’d even get to enjoy yourself for a bit.

Your suggestion’s only met with a scoff.  “And allow you the chance to run off? I don’t think so.”

Two months have passed since landing in Hyrule, along with meeting Princess Zelda and the Champions for the first time. Revali accused you of being an enemy undercover, sent to gain their trust. You then proceeded to inform him just where he could stick those claims. Since then, it’s been his personal mission to act as your personal tormentor. He began to constantly visit the palace and look for you. After tracking you down, he’d refuse to leave your side and proceed to pester you for the rest of the day. He claimed that he was simply enforcing the “necessary security measures” over you. Yeah, right. It was more likely he was doing this out of pettiness then suspicion.

“Besides,” Revali’s voice pulls you back to the present. “You should be honored, not everyone is able to receive the company of someone of my calibre.” He fails to notice you cringing.

Dear God, how could one guy be so narcissistic?

“You know what, you’re right.” You smile sweetly. “It’s almost as impressive as being the Hylian Champion. Why, I’d almost even consider you on the same level.” Ok, that last one might’ve been a low blow. However, the guy really needed to be taken down a peg.

Suddenly Revali gets right in your face, and a twinge of unease goes through while under his glare. “Now listen here you little brat, don’t go prattling on about things you know nothing about—”

“Oh look who’s talking!” You snap, “I’m not the one that accused someone of being a Yiga on their first meeting.”

Revali’s feathers began puffing out in anger. “Why you insipid—”

“Master Revali!”

He was promptly cut off by the cry heard near the entrance. You both turn to see one of the royal knights running in your direction, a look of alarm plastered on his face. Once he catches up he bends over to regain his breath. Sweat was dripping down his brow in rush to find you.

Revali had no sympathy for the poor man’s state, more miffed at suddenly being interrupted. “I’m currently in the middle of something, knight, this had better be worth it.” He crossed his wings and waited impatiently, but the knight was still busy regaining his breath. “Well?” He snapped, “Out with it already!”

Despite his wheezing, you manage to make out what the knight was saying “There’s,” he gasped “there’s been an attack —*cough*— by the castle gates.”

Without another word, Revali sprung into action. Summoning his gale, he quickly took off towards the location given, and you were left to figure out the further details for yourself.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour goes by and, once again, you’re beside the Rito champion, the two of you watching as the royal guard begins to interrogate the captured assailants.

Apparently, a few members of the Yiga clan had snuck inside the palace in an attempt to assassinate Princess Zelda.

Unfortunately for them, they seemed to forget who her personal guard was and got caught before even getting near her. Not long after, Revali arrived on the scene and it was over.

“Well, that was quite the let down.” You try ignoring the grumbling beside you, but to no avail. “I had hoped for a bit of a challenge. Alas, I’m only to be disappointed.”

You turn to face him, but immediately screw up your eyes when the light behind him shines directly in your face. “Give it a rest will you? We should just be glad no one was seriously hurt.”

Revali snorts under his beak. “Please, with those abysmal skills? It’s astounding they even made it inside. Those fools had no chance against not only one, but two Champions. Speaking of which,” He raises a brow at you “What was it you said earlier? How I could almost be ‘considered’ on the same level as the Link fellow? Perhaps this event has enlightened you a bit.”

Oh, you did not care for the smug note in his tone. You gave him your best glare, but with the sunlight glaring down at you, it probably looked more like a squint. “From what I heard, Link took down more members than you.”

You receive a stink eye for that one. “Pardon me, but I was busy covering for him and the rest of the royal guards. I believe that requires more skill and finesse his simple stabbing of one foe at a time. Furthermore, he had a head start on me so it’s only fair—” You stop paying attention after that. You were more preoccupied by the sunlight, which still continued to obstruct your vision.

Then you realize; it was still early morning, and you were facing west.

You narrow your eyes and force yourself to follow the direction of the light. It ended at a bush nearby, and you made out something gray poking out between it’s branches as the source.

Something was off. “Hey, Revali—”

“It’s rude to interrupt.” He chastises you before going right back to his ranting. You catch  another glimpse of the gray over his shoulder. The sunlight was bouncing off of it.

“Ok, but listen—” A note of concern could be heard in your voice now, but once again you are cut off.

“Enough interruptions y/n,” Revali snapped. “Now kindly shut it.” At that moment an arm emerged from the bushes, and you finally recognized that the gray you  saw was an arrow.

Before you can say a word, a hand releases the arrow, and it shoots directly towards the Rito standing in front of you.

A few seconds pass…maybe more, you can’t tell. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, and yet it still felt too fast. You dimly recognize Zelda's voice shouting in the distance,  which were quickly accompanied by others. Heavy footsteps could be heard coming your way.  However, you were too busy processing what just happened to care.

Everything felt numb. Too much was happening at once. First, you saw Revali’s face turn from one of annoyance to shock, right before he fell to the ground. Now, a crimson red was staining the front of your shirt as you stood in disbelief. You look down, and see Revali’s body laying on the ground in front of you.

He looks right back at you, before turning his gaze to the arrow lodged in your arm.

Without warning, the numbness gave away to pain. A sharp stabbing sensation was shooting up and down your arm, and you can’t quite stop a whimper from escaping your throat. You could feel something warm slide down your injury and drip onto the ground. The world around you was spinning. Suddenly, you find yourself face first on the castle floor. Weird, you don’t remember falling. Your thoughts begin to grow fuzzy as the voices get closer. You try your best to stay awake, but dark spots are already flooding your vision.

You vaguely register the sensation of being lifted up. Something warm and fluffy gently wraps itself around your body.

Huh, it felt kind of nice…

And with that thought, everything goes black.

-------------------------------------------------------

When you open your eyes, a dull ache immediately rings through your head.

You have to blink a few times before your eyes can adjust to the light. You were currently lying in a bed at least three times your size, with multiple blankets covering your body. You tried to sit up, but the movement immediately causes your arm to throb painfully in protest.

Shit, everything hurt. Privately you swear to never let yourself take another arrow in the future. Moving more slowly this time, you eventually manage to pull yourself into a sitting position in order to get a better look at your surroundings.

The walls are painted a pale blue. To your left stood a large, full length window, the drapes a deep, royal purple and drawn on either side to allow in some natural sunlight. The room was actually oddly familiar. You spot a backpack lying on the ground in a far corner of the room. It was the one you wore when you had first landed in Hyrule. Ah, this was the room that Zelda gave you. You felt kind of silly for not realizing sooner.

The sound of a click was heard to your right. Turning your head, you see a certain Rito enter the room, a tray being carried under his wing. He closed the door behind him and turned to where you were laying.

His eyes widen when he sees you staring back at him. “Ah, you’re awake. That’s um— that’s good.” ...Ok, that was weird. Since when did he have trouble with words?  

He takes a seat by the foot of the bed, and places the tray he was holding beside him. On closer inspection, you notice that it carried an array of different medical supplies. “How are you feeling?”

You shrug at his question, and immediately regret it with a wince. “Like absolute shit, and then some.”

To your surprise, Revali seems to visibly relax at your answer “I can see your vocabulary remains as coarse as ever.” He snickers, ”But yes, a shot to the arm will do that to you.” He begins to unwrap a roll of bandages while he talks.

Another minute goes by and you just quietly watch him continue unwrapping the roll. Eventually, you break the silence “”Um…” You swallow, “How long was I out for?”

Revali cuts off a decent length of the wrap.  “First, your arm please.” He holds a hand out in front of you, waiting. Slowly, you offer him the injured limb, and notice that someone had already wrapped it up for you..  

Carefully, he takes your arm and slowly begins to unwrap the old bandages. “You’ve only been unconscious for a day. Still, a bit dramatic if you ask me, considering it was only one arrow.”

You glare at him. “Well, it’s not exactly normal for people to attack with arrows and shit back home. Cut me some slack.” Instead of arguing, he nods.

“I suppose that’s fair. Which would make what you did all the more brave.” You actually slack-jaw a bit from the compliment. Was this the same asshole that bugged you every day?

He shrugs, eyes focused on his task. “Or perhaps you’re just foolish. Knowing you, it’s most likely a bit of both.” Ah, there he was.

“Nevertheless, your actions from yesterday were commendable.” He glances up at you, and the normally boastful Rito wore such a sincere expression, that you were momentarily at a loss. “Thank you for what you did, y/n. Really.”

...This was seriously different from the little birdshit you’d come to know. He was almost charming like this.

You notice a second too late after the fact that he was finished with replacing your bandages. You quickly yank arm arm back and feel the back of your neck grow hot. You try to cover up your embarrassment by coughing into your fist.  “Yeah er, sure. No problem” ShitSHIT this felt so awkward.

At least he seemed to personally find your reaction amusing. “Ah, eloquent as ever.” He spoke with his usual sarcasm, but it didn’t seem to possess the same bite to it like before.

You find yourself grinning at the familiar banter “Hey, fuck you. Don’t forget who just saved your feathery ass, how about showing a bit of gratitude?”

He places a wing over his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me, y/n.  Here you are receiving personal treatment from one of the champions themselves, and not even a word of thanks. You should appreciate my generosity towards you.”

Soon after that, you both fall back into your usual bickering, except now you actually found yourself enjoying it. It was almost like a little ribbing between friends.

From then on, your relationship only gets better from there.

[raditzxsthighband]

IMMORTAL PRINCE

A Dragon Ball Z fanfiction based on Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) American gothic horror film directed and produced by Francis Ford Coppola, based on the 1897 novel.

Prince Vegeta IV as Count Dracula

Bulma 'Bulamina', Bulesabetha as 'Wilhelmina' Mina Harker and Elisabetha

& Yamcha as Johnathan Harker

The Vaiyan crest, with its three sharp prongs, casts a shadow over a tattered map of the annexed Empire of Trufflomania.

732. The Birth of Vegeta the IV. Son of Tsar Vegeta the II, and his Tsarina, Vasenya.

737. Invasion of the Frieza Empire. King Vegeta and Vasenya, murdered by their own Elite Guards; who had committed treason in the name of Lord Frieza.

752. The Genocide of The Vaiyan People.

The Freiza race come to take what is their payment; the last remaining band of Vaiyans, holed up in their castle in fear.

From Trufflesylvania rose a Vaiyan Prince, who known throughout Eastern Europe for his bloodthirsty ways- leads 7,000 of his countrymen in a bold, pre-dawn attack against 30,000 Truffles. He hailed from the sacred order of the Ōozaru, known as Vraculya...

Vegeta lowered his helm, revealing his flame of raven-black hair. Vrincess Bulesabetha stared at him; her azure curls like a halo around the jagged crown of Ancient Vsadala. He looked down to her, and they kissed. Hungrily, as if they would never taste one another's lips again.

On the eve of battle, his bride, Bulesabetha, whom he prized above all things on Earth; knew that he must face an insurmountable force, from which he might never return.

Vegeta turned away from her as she cried, squeezing his eyes shut, he looked to her once more, and she sobbed as they said their last goodbye, stroking one hand through her azure curls. He looked to her with an intensity in his eyes, as the heavy dirge of the ancient Vaiyan Race thrummed within him, and crescendoed, and the doors of the castle were thrust open; revealing the enemy flags of the invaders, and he rushed into battle, his long, brown tail, lashing at his back.

The Truffles had fallen, their home, invaded; but it was their last vengeful act to attack the Vaiyans with the power of the Entire Frieza Empire.

The jagged outcrop from which they hid, was back washed in the eerie luminescence of the full moon, as Prince Vegeta and Raditz came onto the battlefield, wearing the snarling, red helmets of their angered primate god. They fought bravely, as the last of the Vaiyan army collapsed around them, they impaled the lizard-kind on pikes; earning Vegeta the III his legendary title, Vegeta The Impaler. The foul creatures shrieked, and struggled to stop the lances forcing their way through their putrid bellies, with a hot spray of blood. One last victim languished on a pike, it's white tail wrapping around the spear and attempting to stop the spear from slowly penetrating through its back.

There was a shout, as Raditz stood atop the hill, and tossed his helmet to the ground, panting as he laughed.

"Brother, My Prince! The Truffles have retreated! They've fallen back! They've all been defeated!" He said, and turned to Vegeta, who nodded, and looked across the desolate battlefield, which was now empty, but for the corpses hung like trophies all around them.

Prince Vegeta removed his Ōozaru helmet, his flame of raven black hair revealed, as perspiration ran from his temples in rivers, and he curled his lip back, screaming for all to hear.

"Vsadala be praised, I am Victorious...!" The Vaiyan warrior announced to the dead, Raditz stood beside him, his long, wild mane lashing on the acrid heat.

One last lizard kind squawked, from where it struggled on the lance, clawing to free itself from its imminent death. It seethed, hissing at Vegeta as he approached it.

"One day, we will return... and we will kill all Vaiyans..." It hacked, spitting out magneta blood from its black lips.

"That's where you're wrong." Vegeta growled, clenching his teeth.

"Brother... Haven't enough died on this day..?" Raditz whispered, then flinched, as Vegeta pulled a sword from his belt, and stabbed the foul creature in the jugular, twisting the blade around until the sinew, and wiry tendons crunched.

"Let this be a message, to all who dare defy the Empire of Vegeta." He said cruelly, then dropped the blade quickly as if stung, and stared at his own bloodied white gloves.

"We're the only Vaiyans left. All is lost. But we have won the battle... Our home." Raditz said, and cried as he stared over the great mounds of bodies littering the horizon. Wolves cried out from below the valley, and Vegeta shivered, hearing their cries.

"Bulesabetha..." Vegeta whispered, his eyes wide with terror. He turned; sensing something was wrong.

The Vengeful Truffles had shot an arrow into the castle, carrying false news of Vegeta's death, and the Vrincess Bulesabetha, believing him dead, flung herself into the river.

Bulesabetha runs up to the highest tower of Castle Vegeta, her black mourning gown gathered in her pale fists. She stands before the dark, maroon sky, the blood red river, far below. Her body loses its strength, and she takes the long plunge to her death.

The old wooden doors creak, as they open, and Vegeta stands still, his brow lowered to the floor as the torch lights cast shadows across his chiseled features. His breath comes out in shaking, rapid pants, as he approaches the altar where Vrincess Bulesabetha lies, a single trail of blood dripping down her white cheek. Her cheeks are pallid, as he strokes back the soft ringlets surrounding her heart-shaped face. He notices a letter spotted with blood still clutched in her hands, and reads it.

To all who must know,

My Prince is dead.

All is lost without him.

May the gods unite us in heaven.

Vegeta squeezes his eyes shut, and screams with agony. The Priest, with spikes of black hair making six prongs around his skull, steps forward.

"Her soul cannot be saved. She is damned. It is God's Law." He says haltingly in the Vaiyan tongue, the Crest of Vegeta held close over his breast as he steps forward, casting the pronged shadow onto Bulesabetha's powdery, pale countenance; only made more stark by the thick slash of blood dripping from the corner of her dusky rose, dead lips.

"Is this my reward for defending this so-called 'God's Church' ?!" Vegeta bellowed, his energy rushing out around him.

"Sacrilege!" Bardock hissed, the other priests flocked to his sides and began chanting, holding out the crest to defend themselves.

"I renounce God!" Vegeta bellows, tossing his head back to scream in their guttural language, towards the tall chapel ceiling. He lowers his face, grinning sadistically, and hisses,

"...I shall rise from my own death...To avenge hers with all the powers of darkness!" He seethes, and lashes out, surging forth to clutch Bardock's staff, then takes it, then plunges the prongs into his chest, and he falls. He pulls the trident out, and the others fall back, frightened. He slashes the throat of Paragus, then eviscerates the bowels of the last remaining priest, before turning, and staring up at the large effigy of Vegeta, he tosses the trident into the center of the emblem, from which, a torrent of blood seeps out.

He stumbles forward, over the fallen bodies and grasps a goblet, and allows the blood flowing forth to fill his cup. Blood oozes from the eyes of all the statues as he growls, animalistic, and utters; guttural, "The blood is the life... and it shall be mine!" With tears falling down his sharp, angular cheeks, he cradles the goblet in his hands, and drinks.

A growing lake of blood oozes across the floor, to where Bulesabetha lies, and washes down the altar in a flood, as he stumbles backwards, dropping the goblet. A siren's song rings out around him as the souls of the dead priests curse him with their rhythmic chant, and he looks upon his work with horror, and roars, falling to his knees as a wave of power rushes all throughout his body.

To read more....

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13568010/6

[eleanor-devil]

Boruto: Sacrifices [Remade] | Chap.13 - What Matters Most

Written by: Eleanor-Devil & @mirage-05​​

Prologue | Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap.8 | Chap.9 | Chap. 10 | Chap.11 | Chap.12 | Chap.13 - You’re here

The chill of the earliest hours of the day were gaining upon them as the large group made its way through the woods, as discreetly as possible. But no chill could've rivaled the one that was growing in Sasame's heart at that moment. She couldn't help the way in which her thoughts kept drifting to her husband. It had been twenty years since she had known Hideyoshi, they had met briefly before she left for her mission to find her cousin. He had always been honest, caring... Especially for those younger than him. And he had always been a man of honor... That was the trademark of the Oberatsu after all, their penchant for honor... Why would he attack a child? Was it possible... that she didn't get to know him at all...? "Mama?" The voice of her eldest, Kazuhiro, was enough to snap her out of it. The young boy was looking at her through worried dark brown irises. Sasame's sad eyes took a softer look. "Kazuhiro..." (1) "Are we... going to see my dad again...?" That was the question she had feared. The orange haired kunoichi closed her eyes for a moment as memories flooded her mind...

[Flashback] "I am begging you, you mustn't go!" The woman's eyes showed nothing but desperation as she watched her husband packing his weapons. The arrows, his small bow... And the truth that she could do nothing to stop him made her heart ache, so much so that it was almost unbearable... "This is a great honor. You should understand..." "What is a great honor?" Sasame almost cried out. "To build a village from the ashes of another? Where is the honor in that?" "Our village was destroyed, shunned, cursed... All because of that one cursed ninja who was pardoned for his crimes while we stayed aloof, fending for ourselves - barely..." "And blaming everyone else but ourselves for it!" the woman yelled. "We couldn't form a unity because each one of the clans are too egoistic to put personal matters aside and name a leader for the prosperity of Otogakure! Why should we go wage war on an innocent nation because of this?! Why can't we make allies out of them instead of enemies?!" "No, we suffer because of Orochimaru!" Hideyoshi spat, spinning around to look at her. "And if disrupting his peace meant attacking his former village, so be it! What did that so-called peace treaty bring upon us?! Otogakure was cast aside as if a useless doll - no one gave us a second thought!" "No one has to. We could solve all of our problems ourselves if we had enough backbone and a clever and selfless enough leader!" "That's enough." The man's voice was cold and hard. "You ordered Fuma out of this mission but the others all agreed to it." "And your leader hand-picked you and brainwashed you enough to repeat his own words to me. You can fool anyone but me - your heart is not entirely in this mission, either." Hideyoshi only avoided her gaze for a second, but when he looked back at her, his gaze was determined. "I know where my loyalties lie. Oto will be reformed, brought to glory. If it was to be on the blood of your friend, the Hokage..." His words were like a knife through her heart. "...so be it." Regaining her composure, Sasame straightened her back, her gaze and voice just as cold. "If you get out now... You can't come back as Fuma Sasame's husband." Hideyoshi stopped dead in his tracks as he reached to get out of the tent, and turned to look at her with sad, almost heart-broken eyes... And for a moment, Sasame couldn't even breathe as guilt and sadness washed upon her... [End of Flashback] Sasame opened her eyes with a tear, and saw Kazuhiro was still gazing at her carefully. "Mama..." "Kazuhiro, you have an important mission from now on." she mused softly, looking at the boy with a broken smile. "You are gonna have to take care of your brother and sister..." "He is not coming back..." the young boy stated, not as a question, just as a means of voicing the simple truth. "I'm afraid not, my dear child..." Sasame tried to control the trembling in her voice. "So you will be the one to fill his void... The best as you can..." As he nodded grimly, the woman was wondering how she was ever going to fill the void in her heart... ... The young woman knelt before the other two, who were finishing their preparations. "God dammit! They are here! There are twelve Konoha ninjas out there!" Hearing that, Suzume's heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening. That was what she had feared - although now to think of it, most likely what the Yoshida and the other clans planned when they left her with this punishment. She was a disgrace... If she could manage to go back unscathed, she would be allowed to have a clean slate. If not... It didn't really matter if she died here. She had just counted on the possibility that the Konoha ninjas wouldn't reach Oto this quickly. "Okay, we have to come up with a plan. This means four ninjas for each..." "Wait. Who told you we would be fighting?" The woman's head turned to her comrade. "What?" "They are here for you, not us." the second woman said matter-of-factly. "We are not gonna stand here and risk our skins." "Together we have a better chance against them!" Suzume spat, a fire burning in her eyes. "What makes you think they won't come after you if I don't make it out?!" "Then you better make sure to stop them. After all... that's the least you can do after how you failed so miserably." And with that, the two women sprinted towards the trees, leaving a horrified Suzume behind... ... The forest was quiet. Only sounds of nature waking up surrounded him as Konohamaru walked further into the clearing, his keen eyes searching everywhere, detecting every simple movement. Letting his breath out in one curt sigh, Konohamaru took another step forward... And came to a stop as he felt the sharp and cold tip of a kunai against his throat. "I assume you are looking for me." came the cold, unconcerned voice of a woman behind him. The young jounin didn't even think about it as instinct took over. In one quick motion, he dodged the blade, bent down on his knees and spun around to kick the woman's legs out from under her. Then he jumped back a little to put some distance between them and as the woman got up, he got his first glance of her. And he did take in all aspects of her appearance... Recording all of the details of this hated woman into his memory... from her black hair tucked back into the bandana of her protector with only two bangs falling before her eyes to the black eyes, black as coals... "Yoshida Suzume." he practically spat out her name, his voice filled with so much disgust. "I am here to exact justice on you for the crimes you committed against Konoha." His eyes narrowed. "And for harming my student." The woman chuckled. "Oooh, how touching... But for that..." There was a flash of light, and the next second the brunette looked, Suzume was no longer standing a few feet away from him. "...you have to catch me first." came her voice from above, from the canopy of trees. ... "Lord Sixth," Kakashi heard Kiba's voice in the ear piece. "We are closing in on them. What is our next..." Before he could finish, there was an explosion of a loud, high-pitched and ringing sound and Kakashi had to pull out the earpiece in the nick of time to protect his hearing. As the powerful blast died down slowly, the former Hokage brought the piece to his ear once again. "What is going on? Is everyone alright?" No sound came, only a weird buzzing. Cursing under his breath, he did a quick hand seal, and was suddenly surrounded by lightning... ... "You moron!" The woman ran to her friend. "I told you not to do it! You're still not an expert on sound blasts!" The woman on the ground tried to get up, but it was apparent that she wasn't doing a good job - her balance was too set off. "We needed to stop them - they were about to catch us!" Hearing a buzzing sound, the other looked up and around, gritting her teeth. Nothing could be seen, but she was sensing a powerful chakra... an insanely powerful chakra. "Good luck with that, you idiot! I'm out of here!" "What?!" the woman yelped, positively alarmed. "Wait!" But the former had already started to disappear through the trees. Clenching her jaw, the woman got to her feet, slowly, shakily... Her hands then moved to the crossed swords on her back, extracting two thin and long swords.

If it had to come down to a fight, they might as well have a taste of the Fujaku Hisho Shoken. (2)

... So that was how she wanted to play it, huh? He had made his plan as soon as she got lost between the trees. Without wasting any time, Konohamaru used a fire jutsu to create a huge fire wall in front of him, then punched the ground, which caused a whirlwind to be born. Using the air currents to his advantage, the jounin then sent the whirlwind, powered by the flames, directly to the cluster of trees. She wouldn't just stand around to get roasted. She would have to come down. Sure enough, he saw a flash of blue that probably meant she was using a water technique to meet the inferno. Light smoke began covering the area - which gave him a chance to prepare his second attack. Inhaling, the brunette let out a huge cloud of ashes from his mouth and then, jerking his head back to activate the trigger, he watched as flames instantly covered the area... A huge explosion went off, illuminating the dark sky. Konohamaru then took out eight shurikens, one in between each finger, and waited... "Geez, you're indeed going all out, aren't you?" Turning around quickly, he saw the woman for a moment before he threw half of the shurikens at her, but the next he looked, she wasn't there at all. "That kid must have really meant something to you." Turning to the second direction, Konohamaru threw the second group of the shurikens. Suzume tut tutted, her voice almost sounding like she was enjoying herself. "Now now, these rash actions won't do, will they?" "You bit-" "Hey, watch out that tongue. This is not how you talk to a lady." "News flash, I will never consider you a lady." "Hah. Guess I will have to show you, do I? Torpedo Nails!" When he heard that, the brunette jumped into the air and away from where he was just standing, just as small pieces of whatever weapon she was using embedded themselves into the ground. Not wanting to take any chances, Konohamaru put his hands together to create shadow clones. Precariously, three of the clones walked forward. As soon as they tried to take another step, though... They couldn't. Then hundreds of nails shot from the ground, and Konohamaru jumped behind a tree as the clones disappeared with a poof sound. Suzume had also hid herself behind a tree, hiding with the camouflage technique. Damn, this wouldn't do... She needed some extra help. ... Just before she used the swords to launch herself into the air, she saw someone, someone shrouded in a bright armor of lightning as it seemed, running into the clearing she had just been. Okay... lightning shouldn't be hard. Landing on a branch, the woman quickly did a set of hand signs, and then held her hands in a triangle, positioning them so that she could see the person in between them. "Curse Mandala!" she shouted, and her opponent came to a dead stop as a glowing green pyramid shape materialized around him, trapping him inside. Smirking, the woman began pulling her fingers closer. As the pyramid got tighter and tighter, though... Suddenly there was a poof sound, and the man was no longer there. "Excuse me," then came a drawl from behind her, and she immediately turned back, only to gaze into the face of a white haired man. "But I think you got the wrong one." Thinking quickly, the woman used the swords to slash at him, but next she saw, he was not there. Losing her already unsettled balance, she fell from the tree, but thanks to her wind cutter technique, she landed safely. "Passing Fang!" Without catching her breath properly, she saw something... a ferociously spinning something, which looked like a drill, heading to her way and raised her swords to counter it, but hard... it was so hard to maintain her ground like this... The power forced her to take a few steps, driving her back. Gritting her teeth, she tried her best to resist it... But it was futile. Not long after that, she felt the force of the technique throwing her back, like a rag doll, right into a rock. As she tried to get up, bringing a hand to her head, she heard the two men talking among themselves. "Are all of you okay, Kiba? What happened back there?" "It was nothing we couldn't handle, Lord Sixth, we were just caught unprepared for a second." Lord Sixth?! The woman's eyes widened. Did... a village leader... come seeking them out?! Well, shit. "That's right. I'm the Sixth Hokage, Hatake Kakashi, and it’s not possible you could escape judgement after attacking the Leaf." she heard the drawl once again as she straightened herself up. "It would be in your better interest if you surrender now without resistance..." "Well... I'm sorry, Rokudaime-sama," the woman said from between gritted teeth, emphasizing the last word sarcastically. "But I'm Kamiko from the Yoshida clan, and the Yoshida knows no such thing as surrender." She then brought her hands together to create balls of flame and threw them randomly towards the space between them, causing explosions and creating an opening for her to go into hiding. On Kakashi's signal, Kiba jumped towards the trees to take another place. "If you think you can run from us forever, think again." the former Hokage said, bringing his hands together to create lightning. Out of the charge came two hounds, who growled at him in recognition before running away. ... Suzume bit her thumb and let a bit of blood trail from the wound before slamming her hand on the ground, creating a black shape. "Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" A huge, poisonous green and yellow snake erupted from the ground, coiling around itself before meeting her eyes. "Kessha, bury him to the ground!" Hissing once, the snake rose high into the air before slamming on the earth with a huge bang that shook almost the entire forest, and slid underground. Konohamaru had heard her move. Acting quickly, he also slammed his palm on the ground and yelled, "Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" A huge monkey wearing a Konoha headband appeared in front of him, and as soon as he did, he yelled, "Jump!" Without hesitation the brunet did as he was told, and just when he jumped, a snake burst through the ground, baring his fangs at him. With a primeval shriek, the monkey transformed itself into a long, black and yellow staff and cloned itself right before Konohamaru landed, creating some sort of a prison wall in front of him. The snake's bared fangs collided with the many staffs that had made the wall, but the prison itself wasn't even shaken. At that time, the snake caught the eyes that were protruding from the staff, and its eyes widened. Without going for another attack, it slid back into the hole and disappeared from the view. The staff returned to its original size, releasing Konohamaru from where he was trapped, and the jounin held the staff in one hand in an attack pose while reaching for a kunai with the other. "Enma..." (3) "No words needed, boy. Better not let your guard down." the monkey king spoke from the staff. "We have faced this enemy before." ... The woman's eyes widened when she saw Kessha returning to her. "What do you think you are doing?! Keep attacking, he is not dead yet!" "Are you serious?!" the snake asked in a feminine voice, obviously furious and panicked. "You want me to fight with the fucking monkey king Enma?! Are you out of your mind?!" "So what?!" Suzume yelled, equally pissed off. "Stop being a hebiko (4), and finish them off!" ... "Wait, what do you mean we faced them before?" Konohamaru asked with a frown, thoroughly confused. "You remember back when you summoned me in the orphanage attack?" Enma's arm stretched out from the staff and he touched the adamantine with it, as if tapping his nose. "My nose never failed me. That snake the woman just used was one of those who were present in that attack." For a moment, the brunet didn't even know what to say. "W-what...?" "As you just heard it," the monkey said, glancing at him. "This woman was definitely involved in the attack against Konoha." Konohamaru's mind was reeling, so many questions and thoughts... What did this even mean? That the Sound was once again playing as Orochimaru's pioneers? Was there an even greater scheme behind all of these? Or... he didn't want to think of this, but he was a jounin and he was supposed to look at it from all angles, no matter how disturbing they might be... Was there a possibility... that the sannin wasn't involved in it... at all? He was lost in thought for a moment, he didn't notice the impending threat until Enma called out. "Watch out!" Looking up just in time, the brunette used the staff to ward off the lights, but one of them came too close to his arm, and he hissed in pain as something seared it. Then he heard the woman's high, cold laughter. "Uh oh, guess we just got busted, aren't we?" she said in a sing-song voice, which irritated the man even more. "You couldn't deny the mastermind behind the plan, though, admit it! You numb skulls didn't even suspect a thing!" "What the hell are you talking about?!" "Did you know it took us a lot of time to finally copy that damned curse seal so we can frame that bastard? It was no easy feat, and even harder to create three snakes all at once - just a couple of months ago I could only call forth two." "You..." words were failing him, he was so outraged. There was a whoosh sound right behind him then, and using the kunai he drew out earlier, he slashed, only to meet the air. “Oooh wait… did I see that blade somewhere before?” These words drew the young man’s gaze back to the kunai, and he did a double-take. He hadn’t even realized he pulled out the kunai he had gifted Mitsuki the one he found, still buzzing with lightning, on their way out of the village. His grip only tightened more on the blade as he heard the woman laughing once again, only her voice sounded from far away. "Wait, just answer me this... was that child in some way related to that snake bastard? I thought as much when he looked up at me... Was that the reason you guys kicked him out of the village? Wow, now even we couldn't have planned that!" "What does it matter if he is related to him or not?" Konohamaru yelled in rage, creating another set of clones. "He is still a child!" He then used the clones to throw shurikens towards the woman's voice from all directions. "Did you know that he begged for his life?" the woman then said, from right behind him. This time, his body acted before his mind. Lightning fast, he reached out to grab the woman's shoulder and flipped himself over her in one quick motion. As soon as he landed, still holding on to her, he threw her over himself, basically slamming her into the ground. Without giving her a chance to recover, grabbing the adamantine staff tightly, he brought the end of it, hard, to Suzume's head, seeing her eyes widening in shock. "Cranium crusher!" Just before the staff touched her, though, the woman had disappeared in a flash. The jounin stood there for a moment, enraged. How the fuck did that just happen?! A few feet away, crouched behind a rock, the Oto kunoichi brought a hand to her chest. That... had been close. ... Hearing the growls of the lightning beasts as they drew closer, Kamiko gritted her teeth, she had to do something about them - fast. Turning around, she once again used the swords to create powerful air blasts - slice after another slice - and sent them after the hounds. Easily dodging them, one of them came running at her, its fangs bared, at which the woman dug one of the swords to the ground, swinging around it and kicking the air currents at the creature's face. Although it stopped the hound, its lightning did catch her left foot and the woman cursed as she knelt on the ground, holding it. Damn, this was going to make things hard for her. Hearing a sound right then, Kamiko took a dozen shurikens and threw four of them randomly, towards the cardinal directions. She saw a ninja rushing towards her from one direction, and she pulled the strings attached to the shuriken to make it fly towards the enemy, but the weapon passed through him and the body disappeared. A clone... The real ninja then jumped her from a completely different direction, forcing her to get up, which caused pain to shout up through her left leg. She didn't have time to concentrate on it, though, as she saw the opponent's fist soaring towards her face. So he was going to rely on taijutsu, huh? Well, that was just fine with her. Gathering chakra to the tips of her fingers, she prepared to launch her attack. This was meant to cause the sound waves emitted by the body, the heartbeat for example, to respond to her chakra and make a pressure powerful enough to cause some serious damage. Bonus points if she managed to hit the enemy in the chest area. So they fought, but her opponent was good. It was apparent that he was very skilled, as he managed to dodge her every move. Her hand did come close to his body once or twice, but caused nothing more than a flinch. Just when she made another move, the ninja suddenly brought up his left arm and right leg and before she knew it, her arm was caught in between them. A crack was heard. Crying out loud from the pain, Kamiko fell on the ground, holding the broken arm. Seeing that the man was still advancing, she tried to reach one of the swords using her left arm... Out of nowhere, tiny wires wrapped around the sword and before she could touch it, the weapon broke into tiny pieces. Eyes widened in shock, she turned around herself to reach for the other, but before she could do that, a powerful blast of power sent her flying. Just when she was about to get up again, she felt something... a powerful, burning electric surge directed to her back, not piercing it, but its presence so threatening that she found it impossible to even take another step... "Chidori. A thousand birds." came the voice of the sixth behind her. "One hit and you will die the worst death... Suffering as your insides burned on with hundreds of volts." Feeling the kunoichi shiver before him, Kakashi continued in the same cold tone. "Surrender now. It's over." There was really nothing else she could do. Slowly, cursing under her breath for it... She raised her hands up. ... Suddenly hearing a buzz from his ear piece, Konohamaru concentrated on it, while his keen eyes searched everywhere for Suzume. "We are done here, Konohamaru. It's all up to you now." Hearing that, a big grin etched its way on his face. That was it... "Did you hear that?" he yelled towards the woman, although he knew that she probably didn't. "Your little friend is finished. You are all alone now!" "Oh. Just like how you left that kid alone?" came the woman's voice. "I know what you did. I know how you trapped him so we couldn't hear him!" "Bet you didn't know how he was crying when we were finished with him, though?" came her whisper from right behind him then, and for a moment... everything came to a stop as the jounin froze... literally froze. He didn't believe her other words from before... He knew Mitsuki would never beg for his life and he knew for sure that no matter what that woman believed, he wasn't sent away from Konoha, Lord Seventh would never allow that... But... he... was crying...? How deeply must he have been hurt - not just physically but emotionally too - after what he had gone through in the village...? And they could do nothing to stop it... He himself had failed as his sensei... "Boy look out!" he heard Enma's voice, but then it was too late. He hadn't noticed Suzume sneaking up behind him. There was an explosion and Konohamaru felt himself thrown into the air, with a burning pain in his back. He landed a few feet away, and brought a hand to his wounds as he tried to get up. Enma was beside him in a second, with a disapproving look on his face. "Didn't I tell you not to get distracted? Zoning out is the last thing you would want to do with someone like her around! Get a grip already!" "I-I know," the brunet mumbled. "I'm fine..." Then he once again heard the voice of the Lord Sixth coming from the earpiece, although his tone was harsher than before. "Konohamaru. If you are going to be careless, I will have to step in." Then his voice softened a little. "You have come this far this good. You wanted to fight her alone. Don't let me take this chance away from you now." Those... were just the words he needed. Closing his eyes, Konohamaru straightened himself and got up, forgetting about the pain for a moment to concentrate on ending this. Focusing on his chakra, he called upon a rasengan... A big one... and watched it as it got bigger... [Flashback] ...this... this was not happening... It felt like time had stopped, trapping Konohamaru inside his own personal hell as he watched, too shocked to even breathe, his student... passing away... right before his very eyes… What he wouldn't give to be dying in Mitsuki's place right now... He was too young... Just barely thirteen... He did not deserve this - he deserved to live!... "...Sh... Shall I announce the time...?" When he heard the nurse... all of a sudden, he snapped back to life. Without seeing eyes, he strode to the door and burst it open, rushing inside... Two of the nurses managed to barely stop him before he reached the bed, and Konohamaru tried to control his breathing as he looked at an unmoving Mitsuki. "Konohamaru-san, please..." one of the nurses mumbled, tearing up. "Mitsuki!" the jounin yelled, barely recognizing his own voice, filled with so many emotions. "You can do this, kiddo, don't give up! You are so much stronger than this! Come back to us!" "Konohamaru-san, please you have to step back...!" said one of the nurses, she barely had the strength to push back a man like Konohamaru and he was clearly not accepting his student's death but... there was nothing more they could do...! The kid... was gone... his heart didn't respond... "Tsunade-sama...?" murmured the second nurse, looking at the former Hokage. "Wait... wait just a second..." Sakura mumbled in Tsunade's place, her eyes still on the machine. "Sakura-san... It might be too much already..." One of the nurses warned her. "No... no, please... please don't give up on him... He's strong, he'll pull through... I'm begging you, please don't give up..." Konohamaru said, almost as if in a trance. "Let's just leave the child in peace..." another nurse said, her voice shaky. Tsunade snapped back to herself and hastily hushed the nurse, staring at Sakura. "Sakura-san..." But as the nurse was about to mumble the same words as before... a tiny but sudden sound erupted from the machine, causing everyone's eyes to immediately set at it. As the heart rate slowly, very slowly fell back to a steady rhythm, Sakura broke into a smile, and laughed softly, while tears fell down from her eyes. "You really do like your surprises, don't you?" she mused fondly, leaning over to kiss Mitsuki on the top of his head. A tear fell on the closed eye of the child. Tsunade smiled too, but it was a broken smile. "Really, kid... I'm not a young woman anymore, don't scare us like that..." Konohamaru was hit by such a huge wave of relief that he almost couldn't stand his ground. He brought his hand over his mouth as he began to softly cry himself. He didn't object this time as the nurse told him he should really wait outside, and silently retreated out of the room, his eyes on Mitsuki all the time. [End of Flashback] He heard a sliding sound, trees crushing as the giant snake once again made her way to him. His eyes, however, were locked on the woman, who stood behind the beast, a disgusting smirk all over her face... And Konohamaru stroke forward. He swung the adamantine staff towards the snake, enlarging the staff. Enma burst out at the end of it, wrapping his arms around the snake before he pierced her throat with his fangs. And before she could do anything... Konohamaru had grabbed the woman by her collar, slamming her into a tree... Suzume's eyes widened for one last time before the rasengan hit her chest with full force. It was over... ... Enma turned to his normal form as the other Konoha ninjas gathered around, all just silently looking at the brunet. The monkey king had a small smile on his face, his look both exasperated and proud. 'You have quite the grandson, Sarutobi...' he thought to himself. ... Dropping the woman's body to the ground, the jounin looked at her expressionlessly, feeling only... relieved... a whole... [Flashback] Konohamaru felt so proud of his students... The second round of the Chuunin exams was over, and they had managed excellent teamwork. Much better than what he expected, really, what with Boruto being Boruto... Speaking of which, he noticed two genins in his team were approached by their family, receiving cheers and congratulations, big smiles on their faces... and of course, Boruto had been in a gloating mode... The next thing he noticed was his third student... standing all by himself, a couple of feet away from them, just looking at his two teammates and their families with a small smile. And something about that bothered the young jounin. About how Mitsuki had no one to cheer for him, at least for that moment... Making his decision, he started walking towards him. The blue haired boy was surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to gaze into the smiling face of his sensei. "Well done, kiddo, great job," Konohamaru said encouragingly. "I knew you guys would do it." And slowly, the boy's face broke into a full-on smile as well... [End of Flashback] 'Thank you... sensei...' Hearing the faint voice brought by the wind itself, the brunet's eyes widened for a moment. Before he knew it, he had fallen on his knees beside Suzume's body, his head bowed low as he started weeping softly, and the sun's first rays began seeping through the trees...        

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A.N:

(1) Remember or note down these names. They are gonna be very important in the following projects. (2) You can search this and almost all of the technique names listed on this chapter on Narutopedia. (3) This Enma is the Enma who was Hiruzen's personal summon. We do not use Konohamaru's canon summons, the toad or the monkey, in our storyline. (4) This literally means snake child, but I used it here to mean "baby snake", as in Suzume telling Kessha to stop acting like a scared baby.

[thinkyoureholy]

Blessed With A Curse [3]

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Pairing : Kang Yeosang / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Greek God!AU

Words : 2.8k

Previous Chapter. - Next Chapter.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

-Yeosang’s P. O. V-

I ran through the dense forest, forcing my legs to go faster. This sense of dread and urgency had filled my entire being for the past hour. I couldn’t quite place why I was feeling like this but I knew I had to get there quick. I didn’t know why I was feeling this but it was a feeling all too familiar to me. Images of them crying out to me for help as they were mercilessly slaughtered painted the walls of my mind, their screaming echoing loudly. With that in my mind I pushed myself harder, my chest heaving up and down rapidly as I ran. I was so focused on getting there in time I didn’t sense those that hid behind the trees until it was too late. 

I barely managed to deflect the arrow that was aimed straight for my heart. I grit my teeth when a sword followed that arrow, once again narrowly missing its mark as I blocked it. 

“Athena!” I growled, pushing back against her, slamming my shoulder into her to throw her back. 

I raised my sword up high, about to cut her down when I froze at the cry that rang through the forest. 

“Yeosang!!” 

I looked around desperately, trying to figure out in which direction her voice came from. I was only distracted for a second but that was enough for one of them to kick my legs out from underneath me, landing a blow to my face at the same time. There was only one that had that kind of speed, my eyes finding him quickly. 

“Hermes.” I snarled, glaring up at him. 

I quickly got to my feet but as soon as I did I felt something like a whip hit my back. I turned to see someone I least expected, my eyes growing wide. 

“Poseidon?” I expected the rest of them to be here, hell I even expected Apollo but never Poseidon. 

“YEOSANG!”

I inhaled sharply at the pain filled shout that filled the quiet forest. I turned in every direction, wanting to go to her but I didn’t know which way to go. Frustrated, I let out a cry of my own, the sound that fell from my lips almost animalistic as the ground shook underneath my feet. 

“Where is she!?” I shouted, my eyes darted over all of them, falling on Artemis, the one closest to me, “What the hell are you doing to her!?”

Artemis didn’t even flinch as she looked me dead in the eye, not bothering to answer as Athena spoke for her, “You’re the reason we had to go after her in the first place.”

I whirled around to face her, about to kill her where she stood but before I could bring my sword down Y/N’s screams stopped me. This time she didn’t even call out my name, her cries higher and filled with agony. My hand shook as I gripped my sword tightly, the sense of dread that filled my heart only growing as I continued to helplessly hear her cry out. I knew I could beat them if I just lost myself to my temper and my impulses but if I did that I’d lose control. If I lost control I’d tear this whole forest apart and burn it to ashes, taking her along with them. I bit my bottom lip harshly as I thought of what to do. I could fight them as I was but with hearing her screams every few seconds I don’t know how well I’d fare against them. Each scream, each cry had my heart twisting painfully in my chest, the lump in my throat only growing bigger and bigger. 

“Once we’re done with her we’ll finish you off once and for all.” Hermes said as Poseidon continued, “But for now you’ll have to hear the agony she’s going through.”

I inhaled shakily through my nose, my eyes filling with unshed tears for the first time in I don’t know how long, “Why..? Why must you go after everything I care about? Was casting me out of my home not enough for you?!”

Athena raised her head slightly, the look in her eyes filled with contempt, “You, more than anyone, know why we cast you out, Ares.”

“You lot were deceived! I am many things but I would never do that to Hephaestus!” I shouted, already sick and tired of having to defend myself, “You’ve already cast me out so why are you doing all of this?! Why go after her?! She’s innocent in all of this!”

They all just stared at me, emotionless, probably enjoying the look of desperation on my face. I reached out and grabbed Poseidon’s arm, my fingers digging into his skin.

“Please, I’m begging you, stop this,” I begged, my voice breaking as another one of her cries pierced the air.

“You should’ve never given her your mark if you wanted to keep her out of all this.” Poseidon said, his voice void of emotion, “You know exactly how your humans get once their power is unlocked, they’re more troublesome than you are.”

“But she hasn’t even done anything yet! Is that not enough to let her live!? She’s carried my mark with her since she was born, twenty-two years have gone by and she has not once raised a weapon against another! There’s a possibility she may never even unlock that power!” I yelled, my breath catching in my throat as I looked over them, “It doesn’t matter what I say to you does it? You’re going to kill her regardless of how I plead for her to be spared…” I trailed off as I finally realized nothing I said would get them to stop.

“Yeosang! Help me! Please!!”

-

I gasped as I sat up, jolted awake by the nightmare I was stuck in. I was panting heavily, the nightmare still so vivid in my mind. I curled in on myself, clawing at my heart, the organ beating painfully in my chest. The sense of dread had failed to leave me even as I woke up, getting the feeling that this was some kind of premonition. Just the thought sent my heart racing as it throbbed in my chest. As I tried to calm myself I gripped the hilt of my sword tightly, only one thing on my mind as an intense fire burned in my eyes. 

……

I smiled softly as the wind carried her laugh over to me, catching a glimpse of the joyful look on her face. But the smile soon left my lips as I caught sight of him, a frown now adorning my face. I’ve been shadowing Y/N for a little over a month now and in that time I’ve seen just how close she is with Apollo. I was sure I threatened him to keep away from her, I guess I’ll just have to teach him what happens when you don’t heed my words. I clenched my hands into tight fists, taking a step towards the two of them but stopped at the voice that called out to me from my right.

“I don’t think that’s very wise, brother.” 

I ground my teeth at the sound of her voice, turning slowly to face her, “Athena...you’ve got guts showing your face around me. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I was trying to stay calm, afraid that if I lost my temper I’d end up destroying everything within miles of where I stood. If I did that then Y/N would get hurt, and that’s the last thing I wanted. So, for her sake, I was holding off on ramming my sword through Athena’s heart. But the condescending look she wore on her face was hard to ignore. I dug my nails into my palm, drawing blood as I forced myself to endure it.

“I have something of importance to talk to you about.” She said, her lips quirking up into a smirk.

“Tell me why you’re here or leave. I have no time for your games.” I snapped, waiting for her to state her business but she kept quiet. I scoffed, glaring at her for a moment longer before turning my back on her.

“It has something to do with that human girl you seem to be fond of.” She called out, the teasing tone in her voice clear as day.

I tensed at her words but kept my back to her, “What about her?”

A moment of silence fell over us, the air surrounding us so tense it was almost suffocating, “I hear you’ve claimed her. If she carries your mark then you know better than anyone what that means. She’s an Athenian so I-”

I couldn’t control myself anymore. I turned on my heel and reached out, grabbing her neck with my hand, “You what?” I seethed, bringing her in closer so our faces were inches apart, my hand squeezing her throat tightly but not tight enough she couldn’t get a word out.

“I have...authority...over her…” She choked out, digging her nails into my wrist to get my to let go but I only squeezed harder.

“Let’s get something straight here, little sister. You can have authority over all the Athenians you like, hell you can have it over everyone else in the world but you have absolutely no authority over Y/N. She is mine and mine alone,” I growled, throwing her to the ground as I stood over her, “You lot have taken all my humans from me, all of them! I will not allow you to take another. I’ll kill you before you even get the chance.”

She scoffed, pushing herself up off the ground, sitting up and staring at me with contempt, “I’ve fought you and won before, I’ll do it again.”

I chuckled darkly as I crouched down in front of her, reaching forward to roughly grab her chin with my thumb and index finger, “Just try it. I can guarantee you won’t win a second time. You’ve all taken everything good I’ve ever had, my home, my people, everything. I will no longer allow you to do as you please. Stay away from her if you know what’s good for you. I will not hesitate to cut you down where you stand. If you do not heed my warning then prepare yourself for a battle you won’t come out of alive, not even your wit will be able to save you,” I spat out, throwing her head back roughly.

I rose to my full height, staring down at her for a moment before turning my back on her. It took everything in me not to kill her in that instant by I restrained myself. For all the hate I had for her and the rest of my siblings there was still a part of me that wished to protect them from all harm, even though I knew those feelings weren’t reciprocated. And knowing that, hurt more than anything but I’ve learned to live with it all these years. But I will not let them get away with threatening Y/N, they can do what they like with me but she is off limits, not even I can touch her.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

“Wooyoung can you bring in the apples from the back!?” I called out, barely sparing a glance over my shoulder as I placed the last orange where it belonged. 

I placed the crate underneath the table, leaving it there for later. As I straightened back out I felt eyes on me. I turned on my heel, seeing the man from the cave standing in the doorway. It had been a month since I last saw him but nothing about him had changed. Actually, now that the sun is out I got to see his face better. I thought he was handsome at night with his hair framing his face due to the rain but I couldn’t even see a fraction of his handsomeness in the rain. With the sun out without a cloud in the sky his skin seemed to glow, his hair perfectly styled out of his face and his eyes, they shined brightly, holding me captive. 

“Yeosang…” I murmured without thinking. 

He grinned the moment his name fell from my lips, a blush coating my cheeks at the look that crossed his eyes. I quickly looked away, feeling like I was being sucked into those beautiful eyes of his. He chuckled, the sound deep and resonated in my ears. 

“I’m glad to see that you remember my name.” He said with a grin still on his face, his tone light as he continued, “I was worried you had forgotten about me already.”

“How could I forget someone like you?” I asked, again speaking without thinking. 

When I realized what I said I cleared my throat, glancing at him for a moment only to see the grin on his face widened, his eyes shining brighter than before. Ah, why did I say that? Why am I just saying everything that comes to mind without thinking it over?! What the hell is wrong with me today?!

He chuckled once more, the sound lighter than before, a fondness in his voice as he spoke, “Well I’m glad I made such a strong impression,” His smile softened before it disappeared and a frown took its place, “Though I’m sure it wasn’t a very good impression. I’m sorry about how cryptic I was that night, it wasn’t my intention to frighten you. I also apologize for being so rude to you…”

He averted his eyes as he spoke, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Just the sight had my heart racing. What?! Why are you going out of control?! Stop that!, I shouted to myself, scolding my heart for being so affected by these minuscule actions of his. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the thoughts that wanted to invade my mind, thoughts of him.

“Uh...well…”I trailed off, not knowing what to say, “Apology accepted… I guess…?”

He laughed, the sound different from when he chuckled lightly, dare I say this laugh of his sounded even better than the first, “Ah, you’re a lot more entertaining than I thought…” He murmured under his breath.

“Huh?”

He shook his head, the smile on his face seeming to be permanent. He opened his mouth to say more but before he could another voice interjected, “Y/N! Where do you want these?”

I quickly whipped around to see Wooyoung walking over to me with that crate of apples I had asked him to grab, “Where they always go.” 

He didn’t even spare me a glance as he glared at Yeosang, the hold he had on the crate tightening. I raised a brow, confused over what had gotten into him. As I went to question him about it Yeosang spoke up. 

“So, do you—do you think you can help me out with a little shopping?” He asked, a bit hesitant to voice his question. 

I stared at him in shock, his words catching me off guard. It was such a simple request, one I’ve done for many customers in the past. So why did I find it so shocking coming from him? He must’ve mistaken the shock in my eyes for something else as he began apologizing. 

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re busy-“

“No!” I said, my voice higher than normal, “No...it’s—it’s okay. I’d love to help.”

The grin he wore earlier reappeared on his face as he followed after me, deeper into the shop. 

-Yeosang’s P. O. V-

I paused for a moment as we walked by Apollo. I gave him a quick glance to see his head was slightly bowed as he gripped an apple tightly in his hands. I smirked at the sight of his obvious anger, loving the way his whole body trembled with the rage he felt within. 

“You did well, brother,” I said in a low voice, placing my hand on his shoulder, “I hope you continue to stay out of my way. If you do so you have my word there will be no problems between the two of us but if you slip up even once…” I trailed off, placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezed roughly, drawing a hiss of pain from his lips, “Not only will I pay you back for the betrayal you put me through on Olympus but for touching what is so rightfully mine. I won’t kill you, at first. I’ll put you through so much unimaginable pain that you’ll be begging me to kill you. But that’d be showing you too much mercy and as you know...I’m not the merciful type.”

.

.

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General Tags : @mirror-juliet​ 

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

Firstborn | i. in sickness and in health

Summary: You make a pact with a demon, in exchange, you give him your firstborn.

Word Count: 2224 words

Page Count: 6.3 pages

A/n: so, my first series! hope you guys like it!

Tags: none :)

[ F I R S T B O R N  M A S T E R L I S T ]

        The song of nature seemed to irritate you with every passing day.

        Every day you heard it.

        The birds chirping to communicate with one another, the winds danced as their limbs created wistful music, an owl coos to its young, the shuffling of trees as their branches snapped gently against one another. Life went on, it was peaceful, it was thriving. The sun was shining through the horizon as it rose from the ashes of the night, blessing those who could walk into its rays with warmth that fueled humanity, something that your sister may never experience again.

        Finishing up your letter, you signed your name in the bottom corner, before folding the paper gently into thirds and placing it over the candle on your desk. The flame licked the paper before latching on, crippling it and its contents physically though the smoke carried them to its destination, your hand settling on the ash of the desk before using it to draw a small symbol.

        With your right pointer finger, you used the ash to create an arrow that pointed up your arm on the back of your left palm, adding three circles on the line and finishing it off with another line from one side to the other. Sitting for a moment, nature still called, your heart was still beating, your breathing was calm and even, and then you slowly stood before making your way to your sisters room. You knocked lightly, your ear against the door to listen to the broken air that escaped her lungs, but there was no response.

        Pushing open the thick wooden door, the room was quiet and settled, [ S/n ]'s breathing was as steady as it could be indicating her sleep. A sigh only escaped your throat, before you moved out of sight, following the long hall of your ancestral home that had shelves and shelves of medicines and other concoctions. 

        Your family believed in the old sciences, and even with all their accumulated knowledge in the Hold under the house, you couldn't find a damn cure. The tissues in her lungs had become mutated, they started to eat themselves while her body attacked it, the cancer was quick and deadly. It had only been three months. Three months and here is your sister, who stood proudly as a budding doctor, now an ill and fading flower whose never to return the next spring.

        Your temper was starting to rise again, your teeth were grinding against one another as you made your way to the porch of the house, wiping your hands on the trousers that were fitted to your form. The large blouse you wore was rather baggy, so you had it hold to your form with a scarf wrapped tightly to your waist down to your hips, your rolled up sleeves allowed your marked arms to be shown.

        "Yoohoo~ [ Y/n ], I'm here to bless you with my presence~" Solomon's voice had cut through your darkening thoughts, the irritated chuckle that you let loose made the magician beam in delight, the knocks on your door starting to rev up in energy.

        "Solomon, please, I need help. Not another migraine." You opened the door, his eyes looking down at you in shock, he had surely grown over the past few months.

        "You look absolutely decrepit." He eyes the bags under your eyes and dulled skin, the slouch of your back made you look even shorter than usual, and your hair that was braided had smaller hairs that stuck out from its ties.

        "Eat shit, little brother." You scoffed, watching as he rolled his eyes and made his way into the old family home, straight to the kitchen to fix himself a strong drink. The long midnight blue cape flowed behind him, the rest of his clothing was like that of any noble- only darker and accented heavily with golden threads, he always made sure to look his best even as a child.

        "Can I stay with you? Please?" The small boy looked up to you, his hand on yours as he stood next to your bed, stormy grey eyes begging for comfort. His hair was a mess, a large crow plush you had sewn was crushed between his arms, and his rounded, innocent eyes were stained pink, tears gleaming on his cheeks.

        "Mmhmm." You mumbled, shifting onto the colder side of the bed, allowing Solomon to enter the warmth and comfort only you could give him. As he settled, you threw the blanket on him, one arm going under his pillow to wrap around and allow your fingers to thread through the snowy locks, the other laying on his waist. He placed his head under your chin, and you felt his small shivers lessen as each moment passed.

        "Can... can you sing?" He asked, whispering as he kept the crow stuffed between you, laying the plushy near the center of your chest, innocent eyes shut peacefully for once in the entire night.

        "I can... hum? I'm a bit- too tired to... sing." Your voice was cutting out, fading into sleep and back to him, starting a small tune once you felt him nod. You continued until you could hear his breathing even out, your humming and the vibrations that came with it lulled the boy to sleep, so once you were sure he was at peace- you allowed yourself to fall into it as well.

        Solomon dropping a glass onto the table brought you back to the present, watching the baby you had always taken care of now curse himself for spilling some alcohol, so much has changed and yet you still saw the little boy who would follow you to bed every night in fear of monsters or even your other siblings coming to torment him.

        "God- fucking- damn it! These big ass cups always slip out of our hands- why, why do we still have these?" He complained, shaking the run off whiskey from his hand, turning to place a cup in front of you as he pulled a chair to face you before sitting down to start downing his drink. He made sure to leave the larger, original, bottle on the table between the two of you.

        And the silence settled in. You honestly didn't know if you were losing your mind, with your tempers threshold lessening each day and your self care plunging into its own despair, you held the same routine of searching for an answer that was the tether to your sanity. The same thing everyday. 

        Every.

        Damn.

        Day.

        What was that saying? Insanity is doing the same actions, expecting different results? That's it, your mind must be gone, it must have died once your sister became bed ridden- your mind decaying since then, and the dust that it had left during the winds chilled dance through the household. While nature sang.

        While it moved on.

        "It's bad. So bad." Your voice broke mid-sentence, ending as a whisper, deciding to stop talking and take a large swing of the burning gold.

        "I can tell. Her aura is... faint. I'm sorry to have left you alone with this. I should have come here sooner. I should have-'' His eyes watered, his grip tightening on the glass cup, deciding that even looking into your eyes would be disrespectful. Everything was rushing towards him now, though he held himself in a better manner than most, when it came to his family- came to you, he always was such a baby.

        "You had things to do. You're building your own life, Solomon. I wasn't going to hold you back from that." You sighed, this wasn't his fault, it wasn't anyone's fault. Well, maybe fate or destiny at this point. You were too tired to care.

        "I should have come to you though. Helped more. You didn't need to go through this alone." He still wasn't looking at you.

        "But I did. And I can't take that back. And neither can you. All we can do is move on." You slowly took his fingers off the glass, before taking them into your palm, rubbing his pale knuckles to sooth him- quite amusing to see the tension almost immediately leave his shoulders. His eyes were on your form now, not your eyes just yet, but you were getting there.

        "What are you thinking, in the big head of yours?" You mused, even if it was a whisper, you tried to lighten the air for him.

        "Well, this is one time I'm glad to pronounce I'm adopted, seeing that if I was related to you- well, I wouldn't have a head. A dome maybe?" His voice fell flat, before turning his head lazily to you, his teasing tone opposing the face he was making. You both chuckled before you felt silence throw her blanket over the both of you again, the air was still lighter than before.

        "You tried everything. Everything." He repeated, gazing at his hand in yours, switching the positions so that he was lightly rubbing the back of your hand. You sighed, nodding your head, and folding your other arm on the table to lay your head on it. Your breathing was even, Solomon's mimicked yours, but your heart was starting up just a bit.

        Solomon was thinking.

        Not the best of things.

        But we were desperate.

        "You tried everything. In this world. In this realm." He turned to look at you in the eye now, his grey eyes that usually held a warm and fuzzy gaze now were icy, you felt the shiver trail up your spine at this.

        "[ Y/n ], I have an idea. Please let me explain it first though." You nodded at him.

        "I- I have made progress in my studies in magic. A lot. And now, now I can contact beings from other realms, things that were never human." He took a deep breath.

        "Things like angels and demons, deities and protectors, and through this... I have made pacts with them. The angels are not allowed to interact with our world directly, something that was in place since many of their own fell from the realm, so we can't ask them for help- unless it's through prayer and at this point I'm sure they aren't going to." He shook his head with a sigh, your head slowly coming up as you straight, listening intently to him.

        "But, there are beings who can help us directly, who aren't inherently evil as the church made them seem. They are demons- that is a fact, but they were once angels, [ Y/n ]. Making a pact with one gives direct results, and usually making a pact is a symbol of trust due to it giving you some hold over the demon, but they can still make one for a price. And, though I know many, there are very few I can trust with you."

        "Are you trying to say... you think I should make a pact?" You questioned.

        "Well, yes, but please be open to it. Demons aren't evil by nature. They just live their lives at their pleasure, they indulge, some are fallen, some are born, some are created. They're like us, humans- just... just different bodies? You'll see what I mean if you agree." 

        "Agree?"

        "Agree to making a pact with one. I won't force this on you. I have made my fair share, but due to my reputation I don't think many would want to help me personally." He awkwardly chuckled.

        "And. I don't want to force anyone to help me as well." He finished.

        Demons? You didn't know what to feel at this point. You felt insightful- Solomon had explained it well enough, and he knew much about the topic, and you were desperate. You couldn't just leave [ S/n ] to just die, in pain, unable to even move on her own, not after everything she's done. Not after she had saved you and the rest. She deserved better. More than what life could give her.

        Did it matter then? It's not like the demon would ask for your soul, from what Solomon said, and you frankly are starting to care less and less if the demon was to ask for it.

        "Let's do it." You said, pulling his hand to you while looking him in the eye, his surprise was evident but the spark in his eye- it was dangerous.

        "I knew you'd always get into magic."

        "Hush. I never said I didn't approve. I just- I don't want to-" You stopped yourself, a harsh intake of air.

        "Lose control." He finished. You nodded again, standing up as Solomon followed quickly.

        "Don't worry, I'm a great teacher, and this is your first pact! It's important. That's why I have the perfect demon, he isn't too aggressive and is rather amusing, not to mention he has the best control of his abilities compared to his brothers." He tried to start up the lighter conversation, as light as it can get, but you appreciated the gesture.

        "Well then, what's his name?" You asked, moving back to your room, Solomon following you quickly.

        "He's the Avatar of Greed, considered a deity nowadays, but he is one of the highest ranking demons so he can pull through in helping [ S/n ]."

        "His name, Solomon. Not his life story."

        "Mammon."

[hysterialevi]

Eitr | Chapter 5

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

TWO DAYS LATER

ELMENHAM, EAST ANGLIA

Eivor gripped the weathered bow in his hand and silently gazed towards the bleak horizon, watching as the boat drifted away with the water’s embrace.

She was gone.

She was actually gone.

After what felt like an eternity of suffering, and a heartbeat of saying goodbyes, the gods had finally granted Randvi the peace she deserved, and carried her off into the afterlife.

Apart from Eivor, she had been the only survivor of the attack on Ravensthorpe. Everyone else in the village had either been killed or gone missing, and now, she too joined their brothers and sisters, leaving Eivor all alone in this world.

It felt like a nightmare, he thought, to watch all of this unfold. Within the span of a few short days, his entire life had fallen apart, and everyone he loved had departed from this realm.

Sigurd, Valka, Hytham, Petra, Tarben, Finnr... Randvi. All dead. All ghosts. All nothing more than names that now echoed relentlessly in Eivor’s head, and haunted him in his dreams.

He was the only one left. 

Much like all those winters ago when Kjotve cut his father down in cold blood, he found himself standing among the ashes once again, forsaken by the very same gods who saved his life.

“Randvi...” he whispered, his voice trembling softly, “...forgive me. I thought I could save you. I thought that... perhaps there was still a chance. You were always so strong and vigilant that I just refused to believe you would die. But I was wrong. Just like everyone else in our clan, I’ve failed you. I failed to keep my promises, and I failed to protect you when you needed me most. You may be off to Helheim’s gates for now, but it is me who should be in your stead.”

Eivor slipped an arrow out from his quiver and held it to a nearby torch, setting the tip aflame.

“Goodbye, old friend. May the gods guide you across the Gjallarbrú, and may you find the honor that was robbed of you in death.”

Pulling the arrow away from the torch, Eivor drew it back and steadily took aim, letting it loose as it went soaring through the air.

The arrow pierced the boat with a solid thud, and within the blink of an eye, the entirety of the structure had been set ablaze, embracing Randvi in a bed of fire.

Eivor felt numb at this point, after bidding farewell to so many of his friends. Over the past few days, he had watched pretty much everyone he knew be taken away by the grace of the gods -- and with one more soul going to join their ranks, the lone viking wasn’t sure if he could endure it anymore.

There was just so much pain. So much fear. Even though he was confident that he could find allies who would be willing to lend him aid, he had no idea where he would direct them for now.

After all, Eivor didn’t know who was behind the attack on Ravensthorpe. No one had come forth and taken responsibility for the assault, and considering the fact that he was still recovering from his wounds, he doubted he’d be able to scour the remains of his old village without being killed.

He had been trapped behind a dead end... and there was nothing left for him to turn back to.

“Eivor,” a man suddenly said, breaking the silence. “There you are.”

Eivor turned away from the water, looking to see who had approached him. 

“...Oswald,” he greeted softly. “Forgive me. I did not mean to disappear so abruptly, but... I wished to be alone for this.”

“No need to apologize, my friend,” The Saxon said. “I know things have been immensely difficult for you lately. I only hoped to check up on you.”

Oswald stepped next to Eivor, linking his hands behind his back as he watched Randvi’s boat float away.

“How are your wounds? Are you feeling any better?”

Eivor glanced down at the bandages on his arms. “Physically speaking, yes.”

Oswald raised a brow. “...And otherwise?”

The viking paused, staring blankly into the rippling water. “I... I don’t know, Oswald. I need answers. I need to know who did this. I need to know why they did this. I... I--”

“--You need closure.” The young king replied. 

Eivor nodded slowly, his gaze now lost in the water’s depths. “...Yes. Closure. And justice. For all those who have fallen. The only issue is I’ve no idea where to begin.”

“Well, you can’t go after your enemies without an army. You’ll have to rebuild, regain your strength, prepare yourself to lead. You’ve already forged alliances in Ledecestrescire, Grantebridgescire, Lunden -- and with myself, of course -- but that may not be enough. If you wish to search England for the men who destroyed your clan, you’ll need to pave the way with even more alliances.”

“But how am I supposed to do that when I’m just one man? I no longer have any warriors to fight in my name, nor any resources to spare.”

Oswald remained optimistic. “No... but you do have me.”

Eivor wasn’t so sure about the idea. “But you’re a king now, Oswald. All of England knows your name, and they know of your tolerance for Danes. If you lend your aid to me -- a Norse -- you could risk open war with other kingdoms.”

The young man persisted with his offer. “We’re already at war, Eivor. The moment those people kicked down your door, they became my enemies just as well as they became yours. But... you’re right. I cannot act so blatantly without fear of causing more division. We’ll have to do this discreetly. Away from prying eyes. At least until we know exactly what’s going on.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?”

Oswald rubbed his chin in thought, quickly putting together a solution.

“...Gjuki.”

Eivor shrugged in confusion. “Gjuki? Who’s that?”

“A friend of Valdis,” he explained. “He used to fight for Rued’s clan, but quickly turned rogue after your assault on Burgh Castle. He’s a skilled warrior, and he knows how to be covert. I could send him to Ravensthorpe if you like. I’m confident he’d be able to find something.”

The other man considered the option. “Tell me about Gjuki, first. Do you trust him? How are you so certain he won’t turn on us like he did Rued?”

“Because he hated Rued. I do not know the reason behind his hatred, but Gjuki was never truly loyal to that man. He only fought alongside him because he had nowhere else to go. But when you launched your assault on the castle, you gave him the chance to break free.”

“And you think he’s the best suited for this task?”

Oswald nodded. “I do. Gjuki’s been in England for quite a few years now. He knows his way around the country, and he knows how to avoid attention. I’m sure he’d be able to find out who attacked your clan -- or at least give us an idea on who to investigate.”

Eivor decided to go along with the plan for now. “...Very well, Oswald. I trust you. But if it’s alright, I’d like to speak with Gjuki myself first. I wish to see him face-to-face.”

“Of course. I understand. You should be able to find him in the longhouse. Just tell him I sent you, and he’ll listen to whatever concerns you may have.”

The viking gave the Saxon and appreciative look. “Thank you, my friend. Truly. Your support means the world to me. Were it not for your help, I would’ve died along with Randvi. I owe you everything.

Oswald frowned sympathetically upon hearing her name. “I’m sorry about Randvi, Eivor. I’m afraid I didn’t get the chance to know her that well, but it’s a shame that she had to meet her maker like this. If it’s any consolation, I’m certain she was grateful to have you by her side in the end.”

Eivor let out a sigh, walking away from the shoreline. “I hope so. She was the only one I could escort into the afterlife. Everyone else in my clan just... fell out of this world before I had a chance to say goodbye. Even Sigurd died without my company.”

Oswald placed a hand on Eivor’s shoulder, attempting to comfort the man. “Do not torment yourself with these thoughts, Eivor. You will only end up feeding your grief. What happened at Ravensthorpe was beyond your control, and I’m sure Sigurd knew that just as well as you do. The most you can do for your brother now is to bring justice to those responsible. Learn their names, study their motives, and then strike them where it will cripple them most. Your battle is not finished yet, my friend, and neither are you.”

The Norse took the young man’s words to heart, giving him a firm gaze. “I understand. Thank you, Oswald. I will heed your advice and speak with Gjuki. I only hope he is more fortunate than I was.”

Oswald removed his hand from Eivor’s shoulder, allowing the viking to take his leave.

“Go in peace, my friend. And may God watch over you in the battles to come.”

~~~~~~~~~~

MEANWHILE

FORANGAL CASTLE, THE CHAPEL

“As I’ve explained to you already, bishop,” Edric said impatiently, “Father’s decision is final. Sigurd is to be our personal bodyguard from now on, and if you have an issue with that, you can talk with him about it yourself.”

Hundwerth crossed his arms. “I simply fail to see how we could benefit from having a Dane in our midst, my lord. We know next to nothing about Sigurd’s past, nor where he comes from, and yet, your father has seen fit to grant him a position next to his own children! It’s preposterous! You ask me, the only place Sigurd belongs is in the dungeon.”

“Well, it’s a good thing no one asked you, then. Do not forget, Hundwerth. You are here to offer our people religious guidance. Nothing more, nothing less. If my father wishes to hear you political opinions, he will summon you. Until that happens though, I suggest you stick to your holy books and save the bleating for your priests. I’ve enough of a headache as it is.”

The bishop scoffed. “Such disrespect from a so-called lord. Perhaps you would do well to spend more time here, Edric. I could give you some of my ‘religious guidance’ as you put it.”

The young man’s tone remained firm. “I’ll pass. I fear I have far more important matters to attend to, starting with this bloody war. You want to preach to me during a siege, be my guest.”

“Your insolence is--!”

Pausing mid-sentence, Hundwerth cut himself off when he heard the sound of the chapel’s doors being pushed open with a creak, leading both him and Edric to bring their attention to the entrance.

There, in the distance, he saw a tall redheaded man approaching them from the opposite side as the sunlight draped over his figure, turning him into a silhouette.

He was dressed in what appeared to be Saxon-made armor, and yet, the man himself was clearly of Northern origins. His skin was marked with many outlandish tattoos, and if Hundwerth recalled correctly, he believed this was the same man he saw in Linette’s infirmary the other day.

“Sigurd.” Edric greeted with a hint of relief in his voice. “There you are. And with your head still attached to your shoulders, too. I’ll take that as a sign that Hundwerth has yet to harp you.”

The bishop scowled in annoyance, eyeing the viking with distrust. “...Ah. The very subject of our conversation. I see you’ve made a full recovery, Lone Wolf.”

Sigurd threw a glare at Hundwerth. “Is there a problem, Saxon?”

“Well, if you ignore the fact that there’s a pagan standing in this house of God, no. None at all. I hope you’ve come to do penance, Dane.”

The man’s expression was flat. “I’ve come to do no such thing. I am only here to fulfill my duties to Lord Edric. Besides, listening to you speak is penance enough.”

Edric chuckled at that. “That’s one thing we can agree on.”

Hundwerth let out a huff. “As I was saying before, Edric, your insolence will be the end of you. You may laugh all you want now, but bear in mind, the Lord is watching. And he is not pleased.”

“I don’t blame him, considering who he’s using as his mouthpiece.”

The bishop shook his head in defeat and decided to drop the conversation for now, storming out of the chapel whilst the other two stayed behind. He was already thin on patience due to the recent events that had transpired in Forangal over the past two days, but to face such defiance from one of the lords themselves brought him to a level of irritation he didn’t even know existed.

“Well...” Edric said as he watched Hundwerth take his leave, “that’s one way to end an argument.”

Sigurd took note of the young man’s tone. “You don’t seem to be fond of the bishop.”

“I don’t think anyone is. He is a man of God, mind you, but I fear he can be... forceful in how he spreads his faith sometimes. There’s also the fact that he’s been furious ever since my father decided to spare you. Let’s just say that I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

Sigurd leaned against one of the pillars. “It’s my job, isn’t it? To protect you from troublesome situations?”

Edric grinned. “I suppose it is.”

Falling into a brief silence, the two of them took a moment to enjoy some peace and quiet as life carried on outside the chapel, causing the muffled sounds of distant conversation to seep in through the doors.

It was a calm day, Edric thought, considering all the conflicts that had risen due to Sigurd’s presence. Even though many of the people in Forangal were in disagreement with Aegenwulf’s decision to keep the Norse around, few of them had yet to actually protest against it. Unlike Bishop Hundwerth.

Edric supposed they simply didn’t want to cause more tension. There were enough fires being sparked in Wedenscire with all the hostile clans threatening their walls, and considering how Gareth’s death had affected the ealdorman as of late, it was probably best if no one pushed him over the edge.

Still, Edric understood the concerns that some people had. Sigurd was a stranger to their lands, after all, and he did not think it entirely unreasonable for them to be wary.

Though, he couldn’t help but wonder how the viking himself felt about all this. Despite his compliance, Edric could tell that Sigurd wasn’t happy. He often carried a sense of despondency to his broody temperament, and even now, the man’s gaze seemed to sag with fatigue.

He was probably still trying to process whatever happened to him before he arrived in Wedenscire. Edric had yet to learn the details of how Sigurd ended up in such an injured state, but seeing as how bad his wounds were when they first found him, he assumed it had been a terrible ordeal.

Who knew how much trauma the man was dealing with right now? Within the span of a few days, he had been torn away from his home and thrown into the middle of a Saxon fortress, surrounded by hostile guards. He had next to no friends in a shire such as this, and with all the people calling for his head, it was no wonder that Sigurd seemed to be exhausted.

Perhaps... it was time for Edric to ease up on the man. Sigurd was to be his protector from now on, and he did not wish to be enemies with him.

“Hey, Sigurd,” he said gently. “Are you well? You seem... preoccupied.”

The viking was clearly surprised by Edric’s concern, but kept to himself regardless. “It is nothing to concern yourself with, my lord.”

“I know you’re technically our servant now, but that doesn’t mean you’re not important. Your well-being is just as crucial as ours.”

“Is it? And what brought about this sudden change of heart, may I ask?”

Edric bowed his head in shame, letting out a deep sigh. “...If you must know, our healer Linette had a hand in it. She gave me quite a talking-to when she heard that I dragged you all the way to the armory without giving you a chance to rest. Also when I made you carry your armor to the smithy. Edlynne and Joseph weren’t too happy about it either.”

Sigurd gave the young man a humorous glance. “Careful, my lord. Keep on like this, and you might actually apologize.”

Edric laughed. “Ha! Well, in this case, it would be deserved. You’ve been to Hell and back these past few days, and I... I have not welcomed you as a true Christian should. You were in a time of need, and I was willing to push you away. I’m sorry.”

The viking didn’t seem too bothered. “You were only trying to protect your people. I understand. If I’m being honest, I can’t say I would’ve been entirely different if it was you who washed up on my shore. But regardless, I accept your apology.”

The young lord beamed at him. “It gladdens my heart to hear it.”

An idea popped up in Edric’s head, causing him to give Sigurd a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Hey, what say you to a quick hunt?”

Sigurd tilted his head at him. “You want to go hunting? Now?”

“Why not? The skies are clear, and the day is still young. I’ve some time to spare before returning to my duties. Besides, I must admit, I am curious to see how a Norseman hunts his prey.”

Sigurd pushed himself off the pillar, eager to take on the challenge. “Very well, my lord. Just don’t cry when I steal your glory.”

Edric smiled in amusement. “Confident, are we? Good. Do not be fooled though, Sigurd, I’ve a few tricks of my own.”

The young man began making his way out of the chapel, beckoning Sigurd to follow.

“Come. We’ll stop by my chambers and collect some gear there. I have a spare bow that you can use, and I imagine a dog or two would be useful on the hunt as well. Have you ever hunted boar before?”

Sigurd nodded, recalling all the times he spent hunting with Eivor.

“Yes, actually. My brother and I often went hunting as a way to pass the time when we were children.”

Edric raised a brow. “You have a brother?”

The viking’s heart sank with grief, and his light-hearted mood vanished immediately. “Had. He’s dead now.”

The Saxon’s expression dimmed with empathy. “Ah. I’m sorry to hear that. It is a pain I know all too well myself.”

Sigurd held his head high. “Indeed. I miss my brother every day, but I find solace in knowing that he is now in Valhalla. He died fighting as a warrior, and I have no doubt that the Valkyries have escorted him to the corpse hall.”

Edric placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Then may he find peace there.”

He stepped back from Sigurd and turned on his heel, leading him away from the altar. “Come on. This way. Let us put our troubles aside for the moment, and take the day to enjoy some fresh air. This war isn’t going away anytime soon, and neither are we.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

ELMENHAM, THE LONGHOUSE

Strolling past the guards that stood beside the archway, Eivor invited himself into the cozy atmosphere of the longhouse as he scanned the area for Oswald’s friend, eager to speak with him.

At the moment, there were only a few groups of Saxons occupying the space inside and chatting happily amongst themselves, seemingly oblivious to the troubles of the war. They smiled, they drank, they laughed, they flyted -- all of them appeared to be trapped in their own little utopia.  

It was like the world around them didn’t even exist. As far as they were concerned, now was a time for celebration. Their king had just gotten married to a Dane after a long struggle of fighting for power, and now, East Anglia was allied with some of the strongest warriors in the country thanks to the efforts of Oswald himself.

Everything was going well for the kingdom. Their troubles had been lifted for just a moment in this relentless storm, and with a newfound sense of unity settling into the land, it felt like they could finally breathe. Eivor, on the other hand, felt as though the world had stopped turning.

Walking up to the empty throne, the lone viking spotted Valdis leaning against a nearby wall as she casually observed the people in the longhouse, quietly keeping to herself.

She seemed to be doing well, all things considered. Despite the issues they had with Rued’s attacks and Oswald’s supposed “death,” the woman appeared to be happy in her marriage, and carried a certain sense of contentment that certainly wasn’t there before. 

However, in spite of the joy he felt from seeing her again, Eivor couldn’t help but notice that she was alone. This “Gjuki” figure was nowhere to be found, and judging by the absence of any other Danes in the longhouse, the man assumed he probably missed him.

Damn it. He’d have to search elsewhere.

“Eivor!” Valdis greeted happily, smiling at him. “It brings me great relief to see you again. I was worried sick when Randvi first brought you to us. I feared the Valkyries might have taken you already. How do you feel?”

Eivor didn’t share the woman’s enthusiasm. “Well, I’m alive, so I can hardly complain. But I fear Randvi wasn’t quite as fortunate.”

Valdis’ expression instantly sunk. “What do you mean?”

“...She’s dead.” He said plainly. “Randvi succumbed to her wounds yestereve, just as the sun began to fell. I only sent her off to Helheim this morning. Oswald was there too.”

The woman shut her eyes in sorrow, letting out a deep sigh. “...Oh, Eivor. I’m so sorry. The amount of lives that have been lost ever since Ravensthorpe... it’s a tragedy.”

“Indeed. Our völva, Valka, always said that the Nornir weave our lives with a certain plan in mind, but I struggle to understand why they would curse us with such an unforgiving fate. All this death, all this chaos... surely, there must be a reason behind it. It cannot all be in vain.”

“I wish I could say.” Valdis replied. “Unfortunately, the sad truth is that war can be as cruel as it is unnecessary. There will be times when tragedy strikes without reason, and there will be questions that have no answers. However, I do not believe this is the case with your situation.”

Eivor quirked a brow. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Well, look at this way. When everyone else in your clan was killed, you managed to survive. In spite of everything this war has thrown at you, you remain the only man left standing. Surely, the gods must have granted you a second chance for a reason. They see a purpose within you, and perhaps that is why you are here now.”

“...Perhaps. It is all still so confusing, but... your words bring me comfort.”

Eivor decided to change the subject, pushing away his dark thoughts for the moment.

“Anyway, enough about me. I’m looking for somebody. A man named Gjuki. Do you know where I could find him?”

“Gjuki Haldorsson? Yes, he is just outside the longhouse. He shouldn’t be that far away from here, but if you can’t see him, just follow the sound of his lute.”

That caught Eivor’s interest. “Lute? Is he a bard? I was under the impression that he was a warrior.”

Valdis chuckled. “He is, but he is also many other things. You’ll see for yourself once you find him.”

“Fair enough. Thank you, Valdis. I’ll go look for him now.”

“Stay safe, Eivor. And may the gods favor you.”

Taking his leave from the longhouse, Eivor left Valdis to her own devices and stepped back out into the crisp morning breeze, keeping his ears sharp for any music that might’ve been playing.

At first, he didn’t spot anyone of interest -- most of the people outside were Saxons civilians and ordinary guards -- but upon taking a closer look, he suddenly noticed a peculiar man sitting underneath a tree, lute in hand.

He was definitely not what Eivor expected, to put it simply. When Oswald first told him of Gjuki, he had envisioned a large, burly warrior similar to the ones he often saw in Fornburg or other Dane settlements, but this man... was clearly something else.

Gjuki had a rather lean figure that was broadened at the shoulders thanks to the fur cape he adorned, and instead of having a full beard hanging from his chin, he only had a light layer of stubble.

His hair was long, straight, and as black as the void. A multitude of braids had been woven into the thick strands surrounding his face, and poking out from underneath his sleeves, Eivor could see a number of tattoos decorating his arms.

As for the man’s face, he didn’t appear to be that old. He looked to be roughly around the same age as Eivor himself, and had a pair of icy-blue eyes that sat in his skull like two glass orbs. 

Both of his sockets had been smeared with some traditional war paint, and due to the dark color of its pigment, his gaze only seemed to stand out more, creating a stark contrast between his eyes and his skin.

He was a distinct looking man, to say the least. And terrifying, to say the most.

“Gjuki Haldorsson?” Eivor called out.

The man came to a halt upon hearing his name and held his fingers between the lute’s strings, glancing up from the instrument to see who had come to visit him.

“Well, well,” he said in surprise, “look who it is. The Wolf-Kissed. I see you’ve finally returned from your grave. What brings you to me?”

Eivor took a seat across from the other man, studying his mannerisms.

“I come on behalf of our king. He says that you might be able to help me with a problem I have.”

Gjuki rested the lute on one of his knees, casually crossing his legs. “Well, that depends. What sort of problem are you dealing with?”

“Before I get into that,” Eivor paused, “there are some things I’d like to ask you first.”

The other man quickly caught onto his tone. “Ah, a man of caution. I suppose there’s a reason you’ve survived for so long. Very well, if that’s what it takes to earn your trust. Ask away.”

Eivor started with the most obvious question. “Oswalds tells me you once fought for Rued’s clan. Is that true?”

Gjuki scoffed in amusement. “Fought for’ isn’t exactly how I would put it. I was sold to Rued many years ago as a slave after being captured by a Norse known as Kjotve.”

The viking glowered at the name. “Kjotve the Cruel? I’m familiar with him. He caused many issues for me in the past as well -- not excluding trying to sell me into slavery -- but have no fear. He’s nothing more than food for the ravens now. I saw to it myself.”

“He’s dead?” Gjuki asked, unable to hide the smirk that spread across his face. “Oh, how gratifying that must’ve been, to bury your axe in his chest. I would’ve loved to hear the scream that broke free from his lips when the gods swept him away from Midgard. You killed a snake, Eivor, and the world will forever benefit from it.”

“Well, as relieved as I am to have Kjotve out of this world, I fear there are many other snakes I must purge before I can find peace.”

The bard set the lute down by his feet. “And who would they be?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know. I’m looking for the men who attacked my village, but I am at a loss on where to start.”

Gjuki nodded in understanding. “And you need my help to find them. I see.”

“Do you think you can do it?”

The man thought for a moment. “Perhaps, but I’m going to need a lead. Do you have any idea where I should begin looking? Any particular shires, or names, or kingdoms?”

Eivor shook his head. “I’m afraid not. All I know is that they were Saxons, but they weren’t bandits. They ambushed us in the middle of the night, and fought under no banner.”

Gjuki furrowed his brow in confusion. “No banner? Interesting...”

“Why do you say that?”

“Saxons typically fly their colors proudly on the battlefield. It may surprise you, but they are just as proud of their tenacity as we are. It is odd to me that the Saxons who attacked you would hide their sigil. Unless, of course, they were trying to conceal themselves. Which... in that case, tells me they knew they shouldn’t have been there.”

Eivor was beginning to follow his thoughts. “You’re saying that this was meant to be a secret?”

Gjuki held up an index finger. “Precisely. Whoever ambushed your clan is clearly not in a position where they would be able to attack you out in the open. Not without causing conflict elsewhere, that is. Maybe they are from a shire that supports you, or at odds with one of your allies themselves. Whatever the case may be, they knew this assault would not go over well if other people found out.”

The viking shrugged. “So, what’s your plan?”

The bard stood up from his seat, picking up his lute from the ground. “I will travel to Ravensthorpe and see what other clues I can find. Assuming they haven’t cleaned up the carnage already, I’d like to take a look at the Saxons’ bodies; see if they hold any information. In the meantime, I’ll also start spreading some rumors about the attack. It may not seem like much, but if we pay attention to how other shires react, we may be able to find our target.”

Eivor nodded in approval. “I like that idea. I shall go with you. I know my way around Ravensthorpe. I can aid you in your search.”

Gjuki disagreed. “No. You stay here. You must recover if you are to fight against your enemies, and besides, Oswald would have my head if I let you walk out of Elmenham in this condition.”

The Norse chuckled, holding his hands up in defeat. “Very well. You make a fair point.”

“Is there anything else you’d like me to know before I leave?” Gjuki asked. “I do not know for certain when I’ll return, and I’d rather not risk sending a letter to you. Never know who might grab it along the way.”

Eivor pondered the question for a moment. He did have one other request in mind, but was hesitant to say it aloud.

“Well... y-yes. But it is a lot to ask.”

Gjuki urged him on. “Please, speak your mind, Eivor.”

The viking’s gaze fell to the ground in sorrow. “...If it’s possible, could you find out what happened to my brother, Sigurd? The last time I saw him, he had been shot with an arrow and thrown into the river. I never had the chance to retrieve his body. If he’s still around there somewhere, could you bring him back?”

The bard’s tone softened with empathy. “Of course. I make no promises that I’ll be able to find him, but I give you my word that I will try. If Sigurd remains in Ravensthorpe, we will ensure you have a body to bury.”

Eivor gave him an appreciative look. “Thank you, Gjuki. I realize this is a daunting task, but I honestly don’t know what else I can do.”

“Have no fear,” he reassured. “Your assault on Burgh Castle is the only reason I got the chance to escape from Rued and reclaim my honor. The way I see it, I owe you this.”

Gjuki waved a quick goodbye, sauntering away from the tree’s protective shade.

“I will inform you of my progress as soon as I can. Until then, wait here. It is likely that whoever conducted this assault has learned of your survival, and I have no doubts that they will try to finish what they started.”

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Do you accept horror? If so, “ This place gives me the creeps. ” reader to Arthur after he had saved her from Edmund Lowry jr. They could be hunting in the middle of the night or exploring and reader was captured, taken to his cabin. Arthur ends up finding her but she (while having a handkerchief wrapped around her mouth) tells him to run but he gets hit from the back of the head and you decide what happens next from there.

I have dabbled a bit in writing horror, but never got very far. That said, I am no Stephen King! However, I did have fun writing this. I hope you enjoy reading this. 

Warnings: gore, blood

Masterlist

Read on AO3 

There it is again, that horrible smell. You’re wandering around the edge of the Dakota river, your pole in your hand. Arthur’s not far away, hunting a moose that he’d seen earlier. The two of you came down here earlier, needing a break from camp. Horseshoe Overlook’s a beautiful place, but sometimes you need to get away. 

When you got to the river, you saw the conditions of the water were perfect for fishing. The sun’s nearly set, the shadows of the mountain casting over it. Swarms of insects flitter above the river, a tempting feast for the fish below. Arthur had fishes for a while with you, but he wasn’t getting any luck (you had some), and then he’d seen that moose. 

Not long before he left, you caught a whiff of something foul. It smelled like decay mixed with the odd combination of cologne. You thought maybe, since it was coming from Arthur’s direction, the cologne had been coming from him and maybe there was a dead deer down the river. But you’ve been best friends with Arthur for years, you knew he didn’t wear cologne. You brushed it off and then Arthur headed off for that moose. 

You sigh as you haven’t had a nibble on your bait for the past few casts. Perhaps the fish are done eating for the night or maybe they’ve lost interest in your bait. Hard to say. Then that smell came again, but Arthur’s nowhere near so no part of it is coming from him. Where is it coming from? 

You look around for the source but can see nothing. As you return to looking at the river, an unsettling feeling settles over you. Once you’d been riding out near Owanjilla and were stalked by a cougar. Luckily you’d had some poison arrows and managed to shoot it with one before it could get you. You never forgot that feeling of being hunted though. This feeling is the same, like a predator is targeting you and preparing to strike. 

Just as you’re about to collapse your pole and call for Arthur, something hard slams into the back of your head. Stars erupt in your vision and you collapse. The last thing you feel is your cheek digging into the soggy sand and someone grabbing your wrists, then everything goes black. 

********************************

That horrible smell wafts through your nose only it’s a hundred times stronger. It’s so powerful it forces you back to consciousness. You blink several times, your vision slowly returning. It’s then that you realize how uncomfortable and sore you are. The back of your head’s tender from where you’d been hit and your upper arms feel slightly stretched.

Your vision returns and you look around. You’re tired to a wooden pole, forced to your knees, your elbows pointed up and your hands tied behind your head on the other side of the pole. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when they do, you wish you couldn't see anything. 

A grizzly scene sprawls around you. It appears that you’re in a cellar of a small cabin since dirt and small roots of plants is coming between the logs acting as walls. The floor’s made of hard, compacted earth. On one part of the wall are letters and crudely drawn pictures. You can’t see them well enough to see what they’re of. Near the pictures are several strings dangling from the ceiling, tied to severed hands and feet. A bucket of red liquid you suspect is blood sits on the table next to the wall. In the corner on the farside of the room is the worst bit: the headless, disemboweled corpse of a man, still tied to a post similar to yours and in the same position as you. 

Your heart is pounding and you look away from the corpse, despite your eyes constantly flitting back to it. In the corner closest to you is the strangest thing: a camera on a tripod. Whoever is responsible for this is clearly sick enough to record his “work”. The smell is perhaps the worst part of the whole thing. It chokes you nearly to the point of making you vomit. 

You’re beginning to hyperventilate. Fear rips through you and it takes all your power not to scream and cry. You twitch your arms a little and feel the rope around your wrists catch on something. A nail? It’s hard to say since you can’t see. You continue rubbing the rope against it, hoping to fray it. 

After a few moments, you hear a door open somewhere behind the wall with the dangling arms. Someone begins shuffling out of your line of sight, but then a new source of light appears. A lantern appears, followed by an arm and then the body of a man. For a homicidal psychopath, he’s the last thing you’d expect. You’d think a man with only three teeth and eyes that stared in opposite directions with wild tangles of hair. 

Instead, you see a man wearing a crisp white shirt with clean black pants. His hair is slicked down and parted so perfectly, and he has a long, curled mustache. His dark eyes land on you, but it’s almost like they see through you. 

“Oh I see you’ve woken long enough to see my collection before I started my newest piece,” he says in an uncomfortably steady voice. “I thought you might not get the pleasure. I was sorry I missed your friend. Maybe he will look for me, or maybe he’ll not worry about you. Or maybe he’ll do both.” 

His eyes hover on a spot above your head. His lips tremble as though he wants to say something and then, stiffly he turns around and puts the lantern on the table. He looks at the pictures for a minute. He bends down and you think he’s about to dip his hands into the bucket of blood, but then he changes his mind at the last second. 

“I want to introduce you to a new friend. Perhaps you’re already acquainted with them, but you’re about to take it to the next level,” he says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bandana. He approaches you slowly, your breath picking up. How can he not hear your blood pumping in your ears? He reaches for your face and ties the bandana around your face, stuffing it into your mouth. 

“I want this to be a quiet introduction for your new friend. They are the most intimate settings. He’s my friend too, though I think you’ll get a much better understanding of him than I. He’s all our friends, we meet him from the moment we’re born and yet he’s the one we run from the most. Perhaps you should think about all those times you spent running from him. His name is Pain.” 

He goes back to the table and picks up a long, rusty knife. He turns back to you, his eyes on that spot above your head again. He starts walking slowly towards you. Straining your wrists against the spot that might be your escape, you try to scream but the cloth prevents you from doing so. His lips spread in a faint smile as he gets closer. 

The sound of the door in the adjacent room makes the man stop. He lets out a long breath and then, as silently as a ghost, he slides into the shadows of the room and vanishes. Heavy footsteps approach and you hear Arthur’s voice. 

“Jesus,” he says. 

“Arthur!” you try to scream through your gag. “Arthur, run!” 

Arthur comes around the corner and his eyes land on you. “Shit, Y/N! Thank God I found ya.” 

He sets his lantern down and is about to run towards you, but the crazy man appears from the shadows and slams him in the back of his head. Arthur falls as you try to scream again and you can tell he’s been knocked out. You start rubbing the rope around your wrists against the nail again, trying even harder to cut yourself free. Tears leak from your eyes as you stare at Arthur’s motionless body, desperate to get free and terrified you won’t be able to. 

“I didn’t expect your other friend so soon,” the man says. “I had his own session planned but it was for after yours. I thought he might like to see how pretty your hands are away from your arms. Still I can manage with this. I’ve never had an audience for my work. Maybe I’ll change that. You will be my new experiment.” 

The man flips Arthur over onto his back. You wish he’d open his eyes. Just wake up, you think, please just wake up. He doesn’t though and the man unbuttons his shirt and then his union suit, exposing his chest and stomach. Sure, you’ve wanted to see him undressed before, but not like this. The man exposes Arthur’s chest and then takes his knife. He swipes the tip along his skin, not cutting it. 

“You never realize how strange and wonderful the body is until you see the insides doused in light. When you see the way a heart beats, you will want to see it again and again. Let me give you a demonstration. Watch closely, it’ll only beat for a few moments after I get down to work.” 

You wrench and pull your arms as hard as possible and, somehow, through some miracle, the rope snaps. You fall on your front, your hands catching you. They slip a little in some drying blood, but you quickly recollect yourself and launch yourself at the man. Your hands wrap around his throat and he begins pressing the knife towards you. As he’s about to thrust it into your belly, you kick his knee. He winces and bends down, allowing you to get the knife out of his hand. Unfortunately, since one of your hands has released his neck, he takes the opportunity to loosen your grip and he throws you against the wall. 

Your breath bursts from your lungs and then he slams his arms into your throat. 

“I see our friend Pain has come to visit us all today. I must admit I have missed him, but he is not here for me.” 

He begins to press hard against your neck. You try fighting him off, but you’re quickly losing strength. His eyes are on that spot above your head again and his mouth’s open a bit. Suddenly a massive form rises up behind him and grabs him around the middle, yanking him off of you. It’s Arthur and he slams the man into the wall, knocking him out. He quickly pulls out his rope and ties the man up. 

“Shit,” he says quietly as you cough and gag. You look up at him, massaging your neck. 

“Arthur. What happened?” you say in a rough voice. 

He looks at you and sees tears in the bottom of your eyes. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Take this bastard to the sheriff in Valentine.” 

He picks the man up and heaves him over his shoulder before offering his hand to you. You take it and the two of you leave the cellar of the cabin, walking out into starlight. Arthur throws the man onto the back of his horse and then turns back to you. His chest’s still exposed and you can’t help but stare at it, thinking you almost saw a part of him you never want to see. You can’t blink or close your eyes and your lip trembles. 

“Hey,” Arthur says. He gets close to you and puts a hand under your chin, lifting your eyes to his. “Hey, you’re okay, darlin’. You’re safe.” 

By now, the shock’s setting in and you’re trembling. Arthur wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close. You don’t care that your face is pressed against the bare skin of his chest. In fact, it’s kind of nice, despite the horror of what nearly happened. His skin’s warm and soft and he smells good. You’re glad that the two of you have been friends for so long that he’s not put off by this. You’ve been secretly in love with him for nearly as long and have dreamed of doing this with him a hundred times. You just wish the circumstances were different.

“Thank you, Arthur. For coming for me.” 

“Of course, darlin’. I couldn’t not. When I saw your fishing pole lyin’ in the sand, I knew you was in trouble.” He pulls away from you and rebuttons his union suit and shirt. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s get this bastard to town.” 

You nod and Arthur grabs your hand to lead you over to your horse, as if he knows you're badly shaken. 

"This place gives me the creeps," you say, looking around at the trees and back at the cabin, which you see is nothing more than a burnt shell with the cellar intact. 

Arthur agrees with you and then the two of you mount up. The man on the back of his horse groans a little as he starts to wake up. Arthur runs his horse even faster, but luckily Valentine isn't far. Within two minutes, you're both pulling up to the sheriff's office.

After dismounting, Arthur pulls the man off his horse and back onto his shoulder. You follow him with your pistol drawn as the man's fully awake at this point and you don't trust he won't try something. Fortunately, he says nothing, as if he's taken a vow of silence.

Arthur hauls him in and the sheriff stands up from his seat. After dumping the man onto the ground and cutting the bonds around his feet, Arthur and the sheriff talk about why he brought the man here. You say nothing as you stare coldly at him, wishing for nothing but his death. Your finger flicks over your trigger. Arthur yanks him to his feet and pushes him towards the sheriff.

"Go look in the cellar, sheriff. I think he killed quite a few people." 

"Will do. Now you come with me, calm as you be," the sheriff says to the man. It's clear by his tone that he finds the man disturbing.

"My name is Edmund Lowry Jr., sir," he says in his creepy, even tone. "You will remember that." 

He looks at a spot above the sheriff's head, just like he did with you. Part of you wonders if he's blind, but you can tell by the way his eyes flit about that he's not. Not only that, but when you were tied up in his cellar, he was too coordinated.

The sheriff slowly walks the man towards the cells. "Oh I'm sure I shall. You are one frightening fella." 

Before you and Arthur can say anything, he cuts the ropes binding Edmund's hands and it's as quick as lightning. The man snaps around and launches himself onto the sheriff, knocking him down. He makes a strange "aye aye" sound over and over again as he tries to sink his teeth into the sheriff's throat. You quickly raise your pistol and shoot the man in the back and he goes limp.

Arthur walks over and shoves the body off the sheriff and helps him up. 

"My God," the sheriff says. "What a monster. I'll uh I'll pay you two for your troubles and uh get this… get this cleaned up." 

He sits down at his desk and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and then two clips of money, tossing one to you and the other to Arthur. You both thank him and then head out. You're grateful to put space between you and that awful man, even if he is dead. 

Once outside, you stop and tilt your head back, letting out a deep breath. It's impossible for you to count how many times you've been shot at or thrown from your horse. Tonight was not the first night you've been inches from death, but it was definitely the most terrifying out of all of them. Sure, you've had people wish for your death, but never has anyone wanted you dead purely for the act of watching you die. That man was pure evil.

"You okay?" Arthur asks, bringing you back to reality. 

"Y-yeah," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. 

Arthur looks down the street and then back at you. "Come on, let's stay in town for the night." 

He grabs his horse's reins. You do the same with your horse and then Arthur surprises you yet again. He offers his hand to you. Part of you wonders if he's doing this because he knows you're shaken and need a comforting hand, but you wish more than anything that he was doing it because he feels something for you too. 

Walking down the street, hand in hand, Arthur says nothing. Perhaps tonight was as frightening for him as it was for you. Not that you blame him. Big, tough and scary as Arthur can be, he's still capable of fear. 

After hitching the horses, you both walk inside and Arthur offers another surprise. He orders only one room. You give him a curious look to which he doesn’t respond. Heading upstairs, you wait for him to say he’s going to simply make sure you’re able to settle in fine and then head back to camp alone. Instead, he goes into the room and walks over to the bed. There’s only one. You stand awkwardly in the doorway as he starts taking off his boots. Maybe he meant for you to buy your own room. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll… um, get my own room,” you say. 

Arthur calls your name softly. “You don’t need to. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought maybe you could use some company for the night. What happened tonight was… well, it weren’t good.” 

You sigh in relief. Oh, if Arthur only knew how many nights you wished to share the same bed with him. You did once before, months ago. You’d been out camping with him and he’d forgotten his tent and it rained that night. You invited him to sleep in your tent, which was barely big enough to fit two people. You had to try so hard that night not to appear too much like you wanted to cuddle up with him. 

You stare at the bed, realizing it’s going to be a tight fit for the two of you, and Arthur’s a broad guy. 

“You sure?” you ask. 

He smiles a bit and hides his eyes beneath his hat the way he does when he’s embarrassed. “Sure. Besides I… I don’t wanna spend the night alone either. I hope you don’t mind or think I’m bein’ forward.” 

“Not at all, Mr. Morgan.” You sit beside him and remove your boots. The two of you lay down and stare at the ceiling for a moment. As if on cue, your brain starts to replay memories of the cellar. You see the dangling hands, the pictures, the camera, the corpse. Arthur lying on his back, a knife’s tip centimeters from his bare chest. You begin to shake. 

“You okay?” Arthur whispers in the dark. 

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” 

“You, uh, you can come over if you want.” 

You look over at him but can’t see his face in the dark. Is he serious? Is he inviting you to cuddle? If you hadn’t just survived such a disturbing situation, you would turn around and put your back to him, but you’re freaked out enough that you roll onto your side and slide your head onto his chest. His arm winds around you and settles onto your shoulder. Normally you would flinch, but the heat from his hand feels so warm and comforting, you try not to enjoy it too much. Your hand slides up his body and settles on his upper peck. As you do, you hear his heartbeat pick up slightly. 

The two of you lie entwined around each other for a few minutes. Arthur’s free hand settles on his stomach and you move yours from his chest and over his hand. 

“Thank you for this, Arthur,” you whisper. “I… I didn’t know I needed it.” 

Arthur responds by placing a soft kiss on your head. “Any time, darlin’. I… I hate to admit this, but I been lookin’ for an excuse to do this for months.” 

“Really?” you say, looking up at him. 

“Really.” 

You smile and lean down a bit, placing a kiss on his lips. He responds instantly, his lips moving with yours. It’s as if he was thinking of doing the same thing. You cup his cheek with your hand, the stubble of his chin rubbing on your palm. He tastes good, his breath moving across your face. His lips are slightly chapped like your own. After a moment, you pull away. 

“Sorry. I had to do that,” you say. 

He chuckles a bit. “Don’t apologize for that, sweetheart. If you hadn’t done it, I would’ve.” 

You kiss him again and then lay your head back on his chest. His arm winds even tighter around you. As you lie in his embrace, you know those horrible memories won’t be able to haunt you. Not tonight. Not like this. 

[sparklingchan]

Chapter 4|| Stormbringer- Stray Kids Demigod AU

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Felix

Word count : 1.9k+

Warnings : Fight scenes, injuries but nothing too intense.

Genre : Romance, Demigod AU, fluff, angst.

Description: The day of the Capture the flag game arrives and there’s no denying that you and Felix make a wonderful team. Somewhere in the back of your head, you make a quiet note to have him by your side even when the real quests start.

A/N : Y’all I’m so bad at writing action scenes XDD I swear I’m trying to get better at it. 

Re-uploaded because the tumblr gods hate me ig ://

Enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST ||  Click here for introduction to the story and glossary and here for the Stray Kids demigod diaries!

Game mornings have always been your favorite.

Leaving out having to wake up early, you love everything else about game mornings; the little cheer song Apollo kids go about singing, the freshly cut fruits at breakfast which are otherwise a rare sight, camp students being all nice to each other which again is kind of rare, all the Satyrs moving here and there with banners and swords and arrows. The camp feels livelier than ever.

And to Felix, this sight is a complete different world. Almost like a pleasant dream.

Felix watches all the excited kids move around the camp, the jumping Satyr, the hearty breakfast and a new, foreign glow on your face as you sit across from him, explaining the game to him once again.

"Weren't you paying attention the first time?" You deadpan when he asks you to repeat, your front teeth nibbling against your lower lip in annoyance.

Felix smiles sheepishly and tilts his head with a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say 'Not really.'

You end up explaining it to him again because who could ever say no to that smile.

"So Capture the flag game is played in different ways by different Camps all around the world. As for Camp Levanter, we have a special set of rules that are to be followed."

"We're divided into two groups, which are further divided into smaller sub groups. Each group only has one purpose - to capture the flag that has been hidden at the Athena temple on the hill behind our camp. We can use dummy weapons to stop our opponents from getting to the flag first but we're not allowed to fatally hurt anyone or use our powers. Whoever gets to the flag first, wins. Do you understand now?"

Felix nods with a tense smile.

"I'm nervous, y/n." He later goes on to admit as Minho and Eden declare the beginning of the games and call over the participants near the starting line. You glance at him and he is fidgety, like a middle schooler going to his first date. He wears a loose black t-shirt with a pair of extra baggy pants and his fingers play with the blonde strands of his hair.

When he catches your gaze, he smiles ever so sweetly.

You look away.

You feel the adrenaline course through your own veins as you gently pat his shoulder, "We're gonna win this. Trust me."

The other participants soon gather at the starting line, the competitiveness very much distinct in their sharp glances and quiet snickers, a contrast to how it were this morning. You'd never been one to be nervous before and today, you feel more confident than you've ever felt before. You wonder if the boy standing beside you, with his fingers tight around the sharp wooden sword, has something to do with this sudden confident outburst.

"Alright. Everyone, get ready!" Minho grabs everyone's attention with his loud voice, "And.....GO!"

Eden blows the Horn and you turn to look at Felix, sending him a wink,

"We're winning this, Lee."

*

A few seconds into the game and you realise that Felix and you make a bloody wonderful team. He's good with the sword while you're good with the arrows, he has sharp senses while you have sharp reflexes.

Your opponents attack you at the most random, unexpected moment but the both of you happen to defeat everyone of them and move closer to the temple, climbing through the thick mountain forest.

"You know, I didn't think we'd make such a great team. " Felix admits, panting and wincing as a tree branch brushes past a bruise on his arm, "You're not that bad, eh?"

You manage to giggle just before an arrow wheezes past you, missing you by a single inch.

Your heart as if stops beating for a second.

"Shit! I thought we were leading!" You hiss, falling on the ground.

Felix gets ready to defend your vulnerable position, his sword raising in alarm.

While on the ground, you quickly grab an arrow and position your bow in the direction from which the opponents' arrow flew.

You hear crunching of leaves and branches and quiet whispering.

"They're here." Felix mutters.

The footsteps get closer and closer and before you know it, Felix is tackled aggressively onto the ground. You turn around and shoot your arrow, almost blinded by the suddenness of the situation.

"Goddamn it, Han Jisung!" Felix groans as he wrestles for dominance over Jisung, who is laughing almost maniacally.

"Jisung, I swear to-" you are about to get up and run towards the wrestling duo, but an arrow falls onto the ground, just near your feet.

Its your arrow.

"I underestimated you, y/n. You seem to be a pretty good archer." Changbin appears from behind one of the trees, a visible bruise on his cheek from where the blunt, rubber arrowhead must have hit him.

"And I, you." You respond, grabbing another arrow and stretching the string of your bow, "We're going to win this, Changbin. You might as well get going before I bruise your pretty face again."

Your words come from nowhere but a place of playfulness and competition, but Changbin's eyes turn dark.

You quickly run over to cover Felix, who seems to have gained dominance over a very tired Jisung, all of Jisung's arrows having fallen out of the case and onto the ground.

"I could say the same for you." Changbin approaches you, a wooden knife in one hand and a spear in the other.

He attacks and you dodge, smooth like a cat.

"Felix! Go! Get the flag!" You yell and hope Felix realises that Jisung is too tired to keep up a good fight, "Quick! Go now!"

Felix jumps from a panting, sweaty Jisung and runs towards the temple on top of the hill, his footsteps momentarily slowing down as he turns around to look at you, as if for reassurance.

You nod, "Go."

Your eyes turn to Changbin, who has his head tilted with a smirk on his face.

"I have always been a better runner than Felix, you know."

He tries to run past you but you grab the back of his shirt and drag him back, almost slipping in the process. Reflexively, he grabs your hand and forces his shirt out of your fist while you struggle to keep your feet flat on the ground.

Changbin is strong, you realise, extremely strong so when you try to throw in a punch, he dodges it easily.

Your brain is running wild now; your only motive being distracting Changbin from running after Felix.

"He won't go easy on you just because you've grown up together, you know." You say, almost mockingly as he tries to get out of your tight grip. You wonder if his shirt collar might tear because of it.

He scoffs, not bothering to answer but instead reaches for his wooden knife. And in the blink of an eye, the knife slashes across your forehead.

"Oh, God!" You groan, clutching the burning area on your forehead. Your body once again falls onto the ground, your vision extremely blurry.

With barely an eye open, you see Changbin run up the hill but you're quick to move and grab his feet such that he trips and falls down. You drag him down further, while he struggles to climb up.

Your heart beat is in your throat, your vision almost zero and your entire body is as if on fire. You pray to the Gods that Felix comes down the hill with the flag because in this state, you could only hold onto Changbin for so long. And not to mention Jisung who's slowly getting up with loud groans and complains falling out of his mouth.

As if on que, you hear footsteps hurrying down from up the hill and soon an enthusiastic voice follows,

"Y/n! We won!"

You wish to run up and hug the man but in your state, all you can do is let go of Changbin's leg and let out a sigh of relief, followed by a giggle.

"Told you, didn't I?"

* You often find yourself thanking the makers of Camp Levanter for making the Zeus cabin as far away from the others as possible that afternoon. It gives a much needed sense of privacy and the luxury of being able to choose when to socialize.

"I hope it doesn't leave a scar behind." You mutter to yourself, tending to your wounds on the verandah of your cabin.

You dip a cotton ball in an anti septic lotion and gently dab over your forehead, wincing when it stings.

"Need help?" You hear a heavy voice from near the staircase of the cabin and your heart jumps a little at his sight, "If you don't mind."

You run your eyes over the various purple and red marks on Felix's body and you pat the space next to you on the floor for him to come sit on.

"Your friend is dangerous." You remark when he settles down, flashing him your forehead wound.

He shrugs guiltily, "He's just a little aggressive, that's all. He'll come around."

Felix shifts in his seat and takes the cotton ball from your hand, silently volunteering to clean your forehead wound.

The sting is still very prominent, but Felix's other hand rubs comforting circles on your cheek to ease the pain.

"Minho told me that you met mom." He mutters after a few seconds, his lips turned down into a frown. Almost as if the news upset him.

"Yeah, I did." You admit as he applies an ointment and then fixes a bandaid over your wound.

"Have you never met-"

"No, I haven't. I don't know what she looks like or sounds like. My father never told me and she never bothered to show herself." Is he angry that his mother met you and not him?

You purse your lips, the sudden rise in tension making you uncomfortable.

"Hey, hey. I am not angry at you in particular." Ah, Aphrodite kids can feel auras. "I just wished she'd come to meet me as well. I don't know why she doesn't. " he mutters.

"Well," you start, "If it makes you feel any better, she did tell me that she wants you to go with us for a quest. Says its important for you to go."

Felix's eyes glimmer with a sense of relief. "Really?"

"Yes, of course and I'm sure she'll meet you soon." You reassure him, though you yourself weren't sure what Aphrodite might do. She isn't the most motherly entity, according to Hyunjin and the other Aphrodite kids.

"Do you want me to go the quest?"

You are applying the ointment on the bruise on his cheek when he decides to drop that question, catching you off guard.

"Why would my approval matter?" You ask.

"It matters." He almost whispers, "To me."

Heat races to your face at his unexpected yet sweet words. You know you shouldn't feel like this, you shouldn't get flustered because of a boy you met only a couple of days ago but under his unsettlingly calm gaze, you find yourself melting. Bit by bit.

"Okay, enough talk." You shake out of the trance, "Go to your cabin and rest. We leave tomorrow night. I hope you paid attention while Minho was explaining the quest or do I need to repeat it?"

Felix giggles, shaking his head, "I paid attention."

He jogs down the small stairs of your cabin and waves you goodbye, making his way to his cabin.

"And Felix,"

"Yes?"

I want you to come with me to the quest.

"Don't forget to have Ambrosia before bed. It'll help your wounds heal faster."

Oh, silly,silly, y/n!

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): First Migration, the Year of Sorrow, the Splitting of the Moon

Migration to Abyssinia

5th year of the prophethood, the month of Rajab (A.D. 615).

The severity of the persecution, insults, and torturous acts the polytheists inflicted upon the Muslims continued to increase and worsen each day. As a result, Mecca became an unbearable city for the Muslims to live in. The torture and hardship that increased daily had eliminated the possibility for the Muslims to worship in a state of peace.

The polytheists did not intend to forgo their cruel and inhumane behavior, either.

For that reason, one day our Holy Prophet (PBUH) told the Muslims, “You might as well spread on the face of the Earth. Allah will bring you together once again.”

When the companions asked, “O Allah’s Apostle, where shall we go?”  Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) pointed in the direction of Abyssinia and said, “It will be good if you go to the country of Abyssinia. Nobody is tortured near the Abyssinian King. It is a righteous country. Hopefully Allah will allow you to attain peace there.”

Upon our Holy Prophet ‘s (PBUH) advice and permission, the Muslim procession that constituted ten men and five women left their homeland, parents, relatives, neighbors, properties, and gardens with the blessed aim of protecting their religion, and secretly set forth in the direction of a foreign country. The individuals who constituted the first Muslim procession to Abyssinia by way of the Red Sea and who were greeted very positively by the Ruler of Abyssinia were:

Hazrat Uthman and his wife, Hazrat Ruqiyyah,

Zubair bin Awwam,

Abu Huzaifa bin Utba and his wife Sahla,

Mus’ab bin Umair,

Abdurrahman bin Awf,

Abu Salama and his wife Ummi Salama,

Uthman bin Mazun (the head of the procession),

Amir bin Rabia and his wife Layla,

Suhail bin Bayda,

Abu Sabra bin Abi Ruhm and his wife Ummu Kulthum. 

Hazrat Uthman took his wife, Hazrat Ruqiyyah by his side and proceeded on the journey before everyone else. When our Holy Prophet (PBUH) was notified, he said, “The first person to follow Prophet Lut in taking his family and migrating in the way of Allah is Uthman.” 

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) preferred Abyssinia for a few reasons: Before everything else, it was well known by the Meccans since it had been having trade relations with them for a long time. Najashi, the just Abyssinian king was the second reason. Of course, Najashi, who was renowned for his justice, would not treat an oppressed group unfairly. Another reason was that the community of Abyssinia was predominantly Christian, also meaning that it consisted of the “People of the Book.” Since they were the People of the Book, their conduct and attitude towards the Muslims would undoubtedly differ from that of the polytheists.

In fact, the Sahaba (the Companions) who had left Mecca in secrecy, were greeted wonderfully by King Najashi and his people. After settling in Abyssinia, the Muslims did not encounter any obstacles or difficulty in practicing their religious beliefs and fulfilling their religious duties. The Muslims said, “We saw good neighborliness and inviolability towards our religion. We were not mistreated. We did not hear any words that we disliked. We worshipped our Lord in peace.” 

It is really striking that our Holy Prophet (PBUH) chose Abyssinia for the Muslims to migrate to and not another country. It is impossible for the souls of a Muslim and a polytheist to unite. However, it is possible for a Muslim and a Christian, both considered as being the “People of the Book”, at least to agree on some commonalities that are found in faith. As a matter of fact, the kind conduct and the strong tolerance of which the Abyssinian community showed towards the Muslims in fulfilling their religious practices confirm this reality.

Along with all this, the migration caused many other more important positive aspects to be born. In this way, Islam was heard in the surrounding areas. As a result, the polytheists were greatly alarmed and uneasy about the handful of Muslims taking shelter in Abyssinia. They did not want the Muslims to live in peace even though they had escaped to a distant country.

Hazrat Hamza in the ranks of Muslims

(The 6th year of the prophethood)

The voice of Islam was becoming more and more resonant as it passed from ear to ear. The establishment of this divine atmosphere that freshened the hearts unsettled the polytheists. None of their applied schemes or plans could get in the way of this waterfall of faith that gushed happiness; the polytheists were withering in a state of hopelessness and devastation.

Their spiritual aches doubled due to Hamza, who was included in the circle of happiness.

Hazrat Hamza, who was our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) paternal uncle as well as his foster brother, was a hero who could not tolerate injustice no matter where it came from. He possessed a high esteem among the Quraysh.

It is never apparent where and how one will attain the blessings of faith. Hazrat Hamza attained the blessings of faith at an unexpected time.

One day, he was returning from a hunting trip (it was what he liked to do best). While he was walking towards the Kaaba from Mount Safa, he came across Abdullah bin Juda’s freed handmaiden who said, “Oh Umara’s father, if you had seen what happened, you would not have been able to bear what Abul-Hakam bin Hisham (Abu Jjahl) and his friends did to your brother’s son, Muhammad!”

Staring solemnly at the handmaid, Hazrat Hamza asked her, “What did Abul Hakam bin Hisham do to him?”

“He tortured Muhammad in a variety of ways and insulted him. He left afterwards. Muhammad did not say anything to him.”

Hazrat Hamza asked, “Did you see what you have told me with your own eyes?”

The freed handmaiden replied, “Yes, I did!”

Without stopping at his house, Hazrat Hamza, who had become immensely furious, was carrying his bow, arrow, bag, and hunting supplies with him as he went straight towards Abu Jahl and his friends, who were sitting around the Kaaba. Without asking any questions, Hazrat Hamza severely wounded Abu Jahl’s head by whopping an arrow on it amid the assembly. He spoke afterwards, “Are you the one that swore at Muhammad? I am from his religion, too. I say what he says. If you have enough strength, then try doing whatever it is that you have done to him.”

Abu Jahl began to defend himself so as to justify the actions that he had committed: “But he regarded us as stupid. He insulted our idols and chose a separate path from what our fathers chose.”

Hazrat Hamza gave a decisive and firm answer: “You worship something other than Allah by calling it a deity. Who is more stupid than you? I testify that there is no god but Allah and that Muhammad is His Messenger!” 

Abu Jahl and those around him did not respond nor act in the face of Hazrat Hamza’s decision. In fact, Abu Jahl even admitted to his guilt, “The truth is that I swore at our brother’s son in a very ugly manner. I deserve it.”

The Whisperings of Shaytan

When Hazrat Hamza, who had suddenly and unexpectedly entered the circle of happiness, returned to his home, he was left to deal with the shaytan’s whisperings in his mind: “You are a reputable person among the Quraysh. You have forsaken your religion by following Muhammad. You did not act wisely!”

When Hazrat Hamzah sensed that he was being exposed to the inculcations of shaytan in both his mind and heart, he went straight to the Kaaba and prayed, “O Allah, if this road that I have chosen is correct then have my heart affirm it; please provide me a solution in this matter!”

After a day passed, he went to our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) presence and explained what he had experienced;

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) then gave him advice.

Hazrat Hamza’s heart then found the confidence and level of faith it had been searching for, “I testify to your truthfulness, oh my brother’s son, explain your religion to me.”

While Hazrat Hamza’s conversion to Islam made our Holy Prophet (PBUH) and the Muslims immensely happy, it instilled a great sense of sadness and fear in the polytheists’ hearts. They were also obliged to forgo committing a portion of the cruel and tortuous acts that they used to inflict upon our Holy Prophet (PBUH).

New Proposals From Polytheists

The circle of guidance was expanding. The lights of faith and of the Quran were continuing to enlighten souls with their majesty and brightness.

The state of panic and worry that the polytheists were in was at a critical measure. They were completely bewildered by Hazrat Hamza’s unexpected conversion to Islam since they deemed him as a hero. The newer and gretaer losses in the castle of the polytheists led them to make new and different plans and schemes with each passing day.

One day, Utba bin Rabia, one of the leading figures from the tribe of Quraysh, said to a group of polytheists, “O, Qurayshis!  How would it be if I were to go to Muhammad and make some offers to him? Hopefully, he will accept those offers and we will fulfill his wish. In this way, he might quit what he has been doing to us.”

The group accepted the offer.

Upon this, Utba went to the Masjid al–Haram, where our Holy Prophet (PBUH) was alone and began to speak:

O my Brother’s Son! You know that you are much more fortunate and advanced than all of us in terms of honor and ancestry. However, you brought a great trouble to your tribe. You have separated their unity with this cause and have told them that they were stupid. You have decried their idols and religion and have considered their forefathers as unbelievers. If you listen to me, then I will have a few offers for you. I want you to consider them and perhaps you will accept some of them!”

When our Holy Prophet (PBUH) replied, “Explain, O Walid’s Father! I’m listening to you”, Utba began to list his offers: If your purpose is to acquire wealth and property through this cause that you propose, then we will allot our wealth so that you will be the wealthiest of us all. If you are in the pursuit of fame, then we will make you our chief. If the condition that has befallen upon you is a delusion that you do not have enough strength to overcome or if it is an illness or spell that came from your fairies and jinn, then let us bring a doctor and treat you. We will not avoid spending our wealth and property until you are saved.”

Utba made his offers and then became silent. It was our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) turn to speak, “O Walid’s Father, have you finished speaking?”

When the Messenger of Allah received the answer “yes” from Utba, he said, “Now, you listen to me.” He uttered basmala and recited verses 1-36 of the chapter Fussilat solemnly:

“Ha Mim. A Revelation from (Allah) Most Gracious, Most Merciful―A Book, whereof the verses are explained in detail― a Qur'an in Arabic, for people who understand―Giving Good News and Admonition: yet most of them turn away, and so they hear not.”

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) recited the Surah until its verse of prostration and then prostrated. Afterwards, he turned to Utba and said, “O Walid’s Father, you heard what I have read. Now, think about the rest!”

The concision of the Quranic verse and the sweetness in its meaning suddenly changed Utba’s sour face causing the Qurayshis to notice it. They told one another “By God, Abu-Walid is returning with a change in his countenance!”

When he came near them they asked, “What have you brought?”

Utba replied, “By God, I heard an utterance that is not similar to what I have heard before in my life. I swear that is not a poem, a spell, or a prophecy!” And he continued to say:

“Oh the Community of Quraysh! Listen to me, stop pursuing this task and leave this man alone for my sake! Stay far away from him and do not touch him! I swear that the words I have heard from him is great news. It will be much better if you leave him to the Arab tribes who are not from among you so they can hinder him. If he prevails over those Arabs, it means that his sovereignty and glory is yours as well. You will be the happiest and most fortunate of all people.”

Utba’s speech displeased the Qurayshis; thus they reacted by saying, “Oh Walid’s Father, he has casted a spell on your tongue.”

Walid saw that they were not listening and said; “In that case do as you please!” then distanced himself from them. 

Thus, the polytheists were facing defeat upon defeat against our Holy Prophet (PBUH). Their solutions and measures against Islam were running out one by one. Every plan and measure they applied was going against their favor since Allah had promised:

“I will complete My light even if the nonbelievers and polytheists don’t want for it to happen.”  His order to His Messenger was this:

“O Messenger! proclaim the (Message) which hath been sent to thee from thy Lord. If thou didst not thou wouldst not have fulfilled and proclaimed His Mission: and Allah will defend thee from men (who mean mischief). For Allah guideth not those who reject Faith.” 

For this reason, Allah’s Apostle (PBUH) was continuing his duty to invite the community to Islam without fear, weariness, and hesitation. He was doing his best to wave the Flag of Tawhid over the hearts of the people. As a result, the ranks of Muslims were increasing and becoming much stronger.

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 28

catch me completely ignoring dark cybertron lmao

yeahhhh so I'm just gonna skip dark cybertron bc no thanks. I did read the tf wiki articles for the issues tho, which is more than I did in the past, so at least now I kinda know what happened, though I had to suffer thru reading about dark cybertron to learn stuff about it. yikes. reading ABOUT dark cybertron further enforced my decision to not actually read thru it

anyways. the best part of dark cybertron was when chromedome threw prowl off that cliff. that was baller lmfao

a 1 page recap of dark cybertron is about all I can handle. thank you

ooh, the 6 months later smash-cut, I fucking love itttt

nautica’s here!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so happy I love her. also brainstorm, and I love their friendship sm

hvbjdkhfbshdfj god I love them. they have such a fun dynamic 

everyone eavesdropping on a therapy session vhbhdjkhafbhkjsdf. hipaa laws mean nothing as usual 

the casual reveal of captain megatron, oh god 

the title fucking slaps, as usual. this is one of my favorites - ‘world, shut your mouth.’ great stuff, and a song title/reference to boot! and this being part 1: towards peace...chefs kiss

and then we flash back to 6 months earlier...yknow now that I'm rereading this, mtmte has a LOT of framing devices used - there's story-within-a-story, flashback/flash-forwards, storytelling with narration, etc...I love it

god hbvhjakdfbshjkdf rodimus saying ‘magic’ and then the little *magic = science rodimus doesn't understand HBGKJHSDBFKHJSDF my idiot boy ily

rodimus roasting prowl is my fav hbfjdkafshsbjkf ‘maybe the knights can help us find a cure for your personality’ ily sm

and then prowl agreeing w/rodimus a few panels later about megatron’s guilt...

optimus...don't you think that making yourself chief of justice is...maybe a bad idea...like, maybe there's a conflict of interests here...just a little bit of bias...a bit too much history, perhaps...

the fact that all the big roles in the trial were given to high-ranking autobots who were heavily involved in the war...I see that cybertrons justice system is as much of a farce as their medical ethics and patient confidentiality laws 

the ‘you BROKE the MATRIX’ panel is so good bjhkdhfbajskhdf

rodimus: LISTEN dad I just wanna resume my space cruise with my frat bro ship I have no interest in politics

psychiatrists HATE him! local former warlord refuses to recognize the validity of psychological analyzation of people’s actions

ravage casually breaking hipaa laws and chilling in megatron’s therapy session like >:3

I love rung...he’s so good at like, passive-aggressively cutting right to the heart of someone’s issues, and he’s so generally mild that you can’t even really get mad at him 

the sudden inclusion of megatron as a major character in mtmte is kinda jarring at first - mostly, for me at least, due in part because I didn't read dark cybertron so this is like, megatron’s introduction as a relevant character in general - but I feel like jro does a great job laying a lot of intrigue down from the very beginning w/his character - like, I already want to know more about what his whole deal is, even though we have, ostensibly, seen pretty much all of his story play out already 

rung name-dropping froid...i remember that made me lose my shit bc cmon. FROID....jesus christ

rung and megatron: holy shit! we’re suddenly being drawn in a 90s-esque sci-fi tron-looking retro-futuristic style!

interesting that megatron sought rung out, and not the other way around

RIPTIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my favorite sharkboy is HERE

CREWDITIONS...YES....

‘we’re not allowed to take anyone who might remind rodimus of prowl’ vhbhjdkshfbhaskfd brutal

I love nautica so so much. a perfect autistic scientist after my own heart

I adore that nautica brought chromia along for moral support

hgvbjdakhfbhsj and then swerve saying that rodimus hates ‘trisyllabic names’ and nautica is like....but....‘rodimus’.....

and then nightbeat busts in to get all bbc sherlock on they asses hgbfhjadkfbjaskdf

WHY was perceptor at the crewditions if he was already part of the crew lmao

ooof, and then we have megatron flipping out when chromedome, a mnemosurgeon, shows up

also damn the autobots were rlly like okay so we wanna speed this trial up so lets just like, probe megatrons brain, that seems completely ethical, especially when you consider the history of shadowplay and stuff that our previous government had

I know important stuff is happening but megatron is holding a CUBE and I love CUBES so I'm distracted by that. C U B E

and then right after a scene where we see chromedome willing to perform mnemosurgery again - despite rewind’s like, dying wish for him not to - we hear that he’s been locked up in his room rewatching rewinds goodbye message over and over again :( I'm fucking depressed

I love nightbeat, he’s so funny and kind of an asshole

and then you see more missing letters behind them next panel...clearly nightbeat is right and there’s a mystery afoot...OR somebody is fucking with the ship’s lettering as a prank, which is a plot point I would absolutely buy

yeahhhh skids is right, chromedome is clearly Not dealing 

the dramatic graffiti on megatrons door...I wanna know who spray-painted ‘die’ everywhere like they're reaper overwatch

oh god. whirl vs megatron

really cool red lighting tho

GOD its so brutal, all the stuff megatron said about how he told the cons not to kill whirl...and doesn't that end up being false anyways? so he was just saying it to dig at whirl, which is awful

also I'm never over the fact that literally everyone - including megatron and whirl - blames whirl for ‘turning megatron violent,’ as if the entire Point isn't that whirl was a tool for a corrupt system, and if it wasn't whirl it would've just been someone else, and megatron turning away from pacifism was inevitable given the circumstances, AND also a choice on his part, so he really only has himself to blame for his OWN ACTIONS

bye bye whirls right arm, see you in lost light 

‘people never stop changing’ that IS something I say all the time...damn you warlord grandpa! how can you steal my philosophies?!

ohhh man and then rewind’s goodbye message being different....oooh

AUGH the fact that whirl was basically trying to goad megatron into killing him, just like he did in issue 1 w/cyclonus...It Hurts Man

also I do love the hint at who he’s talking to w/whirl shooting megatron with the bow and arrow earlier, and we know that atomizer is a fan of those

ok, but here’s where my philosophy diverges - megatron talks about throwing away his past and starting new, but I think that you have to learn from and build on your past...either way, megatron’s arc is one that I enjoy greatly from a character writing standpoint, and I'm excited to get it underway, especially w/how controversial it is lmao

big ole double-page spread...I like how you can pick out individual characters in the background crowd, which is crazy cause that's a LOT of people. also how come cosmos is so HUGE

phewwww 4.6 billion cybertronians died in the war, that’s INSANE. that's like, an incomprehensibly huge number. is there an estimate for their current population? I bet its not a lot. no wonder jro leaned into reproductive themes so much in mtmte/ll - of course the continuation of your species would be a concern for many if your numbers have been that greatly reduced

optimus w/his fancy tyrest-lookin crown

oughdajbfsbdf and the fact that megatron ALSO murdered 100 BILLION non-cybertronians...bruh. I feel like they maybe should've dialed those numbers back a little to allow his ‘redemption arc’ to run a little smoother lmao. but also I admire the commitment either way

and then we end w/megatron doing captain stuff, and seeing The Coffin...and we never did see rodimus in any of the flash-forward parts of this issue, did we???? I love how concerning that is. where's my BOY

also of course we gotta remember the warning from way back at the beginning of mtmte: ‘don't open the coffin’....

and so begins mtmte s2! man I love s2. I love mtmte in general lmao. s2 takes on the impossible w/the whole ‘megatron redemption arc’ thing, and I know that’s like, a divisive plot point and stuff, but from a writing standpoint I enjoyed it a lot...I think it was pretty much as well done as it could've been given the enormity of the task, and I thought it was a really interesting direction for the story to go in 

also espec if it’s true that hasbro was like ‘hey jro put megatron in your story and give him a redemption arc’ rather than jro like, planning/asking to do it 

anyways. I doubt ill talk much abt the disc horse(tm) here bc this is just for fun and also my own personal opinions and whatever, but I for one am excited to reexperience this stuff 

so yeah s2 off to a strong start with some wild shit already happening! cant wait to read more!