#ignore that the entire point of him being veiled is to hide the horns because something something people do not realise the SWAG omens have

[henryvell]

veiled monarch

[cannotgiveafuck]

Shazam Week Prompt 2

I'm a day late and expect to do again, but I'm not quitting!

Heres prompt 2: Holidays

-

Halloween had always been one of Billy's favorite holidays. 

Before he was Captain Marvel, he would spend the day at the Fawcett Park Market, getting his face painted in preparation for trick-or-treating. The amount of candy he snagged would last him weeks, even far into December if he controlled himself.

Before he managed to permanently escape from his Uncle Ben, Billy enjoyed Halloween for the chance it gave him to be far away from the man. At least for the night. When he returned, he'd always have to hide a majority of his stash in his room, lest his uncle throw his entire loot into the garbage. 

Ever since becoming the Champion of Magic, however, Billy found no time for Halloween shenanigans anymore. He had a responsibility to uphold, civilians to watch over, monitor duty to attend. 

Billy Batson wasn't a kid anymore. 

"What do you mean, you're not going out? You're thirteen years old! Go throw eggs and TP at some old tosser's house, get sick from too much candy, and all of that!"

Billy didn't know where to begin, everything about what he'd said was just...wrong. "John, I'm twelve. And I'm on patrol tonight. Do you know how bad it would be if the League found out I… egged someone's house? I'd be toast!"

But the thought of throwing rotten eggs at his Uncle Ebenezer's house brought on a joy he was ashamed to acknowledge. 

On the other side of the mirror, Constantine took a long, contemplative drag of his cigarette. "Do you realize how mad what you just said was? You're twelve and you've got patrol for what? Fawcett? The entire bloody world?"

The familiar heat of indignation, of embarrassment, flared at his cheeks. "So what?"

When he sighed, smoke obscured part of his features, but his blue eyes - clear and crisp and so much deeper than others gave credit for - pinned Billy to his spot. It was an accusing stare. A look that challenged Billy, doubted him, was filled with more condescension than John's words could imitate. It was a look plenty of adults gave plenty of kids when they did something particularly exhausting. 

Billy hated that look.

He also knew that John hated the League, that Billy was even part of the League. Against all opinions of him, John was actually quite soft for children, became rather protective and reckless for them. Billy knew John thought of him as a child, heck, the magician looked out for him well enough, and Billy appreciated it, really he did. But…

"Know much about the spirit world and Hallow's Eve?" John asked, thankfully diverting the subject. At Billy's head shake, he continued. "The veil between alive, dead, and undead becomes thin, nearly open. All the planes of existence sync up. Get the most supernatural activity around that time. And I know the lot of em throw one killer of a ball."

Immediately, Billy had perked up, always interested in learning more about the magical community. But at the mention of a party filled with paranormal creatures?

Billy knew the glee on his face was evident as John chuckled.

"Unless, of course," he added, tone teasing, "you're too busy patrolling."

Ah, crap.

[[MORE]]

-x-

"Are you sure this will work?" Billy asked as he looked at John's handiwork. It was impressive and amazing, and Billy never got tired of seeing magic in action.

"C'mon now, lad, trust me here," he said with a face that did not at all look like John Constantine.

"It's not that I don't trust you, exactly…" 

They were currently in New York City, strolling down an alleyway that John was very certain lead into their destination. As they got ready earlier in the day, he had explained that the ball was a public affair, a yearly celebration that warranted total truce once entered. No murderous or underhanded conflict permitted on the property. The event was hosted by an affluent influence within the magical or supernatural community, though it took the effort of some key abilities to pull it off, to ensure the location was safe and secure. 

However, just because there was no guest list didn't mean anyone could waltz on in. Unless they were a plus one, a regular human or extraterrestrial could not enter the compound. Afterall, there was still so much that neither knew or understood about the world, about Earth and her inhabitants and patrons from all walks of existence. Only those immersed in the community and its secrets could be trusted to attend. 

Though, Billy was unsure how solid a definition of trust that they used. 

And then there were certain individuals or groups on a blacklist. No matter if they had attended before or were invited by someone going - once someone was banned, it took a great deal of influence to be welcomed back.

That is, unless someone was clever and crafty enough at magical tricks to sneak in.

Someone like the infamous and definitely blacklisted John Constantine.

"Think of it like any other Halloween party, yeah? Some folks go as themselves and that's fine, but boring, honestly, and others wear costumes. Nobody's gonna rip off someone's mask, right?" John smiled with far too many sharp teeth, with a face that was not his own. "That's how glamour is around these ilk."

It made sense, sure. But still, Billy couldn't help but feel...weird. Don't get him wrong, it was exciting getting to join in on this adventure, but looking into the mirror and instead of seeing himself, or even Captain Marvel, he saw a strange creature. It was creepy. 

Once John applied the glamour dust, Billy used his own magic to shape what he wanted to appear as - an aesthetic look inspired by his own Feyr. 

With Tawny's help, Billy became a tiger themed witch boy. Pointed ears and a gliding tail, sharp fangs and claws, wild hair and catlike eyes, a magically fitted black suit with striped markings that followed onto his skin, and eerie blood splatter across his hands and face - Billy so wanted to wear this for other Halloween parties.

(He doesn't actually believe he'd ever get the chance, but well, one could dream.)

Though, he admitted, he was sort of jealous of John's glamour. A full transformation into a stylishly decorated demon - large horns, full black eyes, fancy clothing and a grand colorful coat. He looked really, really cool.

"I could've gone as Marvel, you know. Being an adult seems easier for this," Billy commented. It would have also been safer. 

Great adventure aside, Billy wasn't stupid enough to ignore the dangers he was getting into. He may be magical inclined, but Marvel was the Champion of Magic. If things went south, he would prefer to have the Gods on his side. And great costume aside, something about attending a party as a kid, albeit a never aging one, seemed like it was asking for trouble. What if the glamour wasn't enough? What if his magic wasn't enough? What if someone saw right through them and realized Billy really was just a kid? If he got blacklisted from the coolest supernatural party of the year before he even turned eighteen, he would never live it down.

"You telling me that you want the entire place in chaos? That's what the Champion of the Gods would do. Half the party would swarm you for autographs and most likely try to pull you into rooms you do not want to go, and the other half would fall over themselves trying to leave the damn place. Some may even risk breaking the truce to get a piece of you."

"I thought that's what the glamour was for."

"A pretty costume can't hide the fact that he's the Champion of goddamn Magic. His energy alone would blind the lot like a beacon of divine fucking light." John stopped them before they reached a dead end wall practically oozing magical illusion. They kept a good enough distance, though he still lowered his voice. "I know you run with the big superhero league, but his reputation goes farther than you've been flying around in his cape. Near everyone knows about the Ancient Champions and their patron Gods, and half of those know about the Wizard and his lofty seat at the center of all Earthly magic. He's a bloody legend down here, so no shouting for your giant fuckall lightning, alright? You don't need to leave here with a massive target on your forehead."

Well, then. This was news to him.

"It'd be nice if you told me this before, you know, instead of when we are literally walking into the lions den!" Knowing that there could be powerfully magical beings who would want to hurt him… that seemed like important information.

"That's why I told you to stay as a kid, kid," John flicked at his forehead, infuriating and condescending all at once. Which wasn't an uncommon thing, unfortunately.

The response was immediate, Tawny's low rumble, warning John Constantine away.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it," he lead them forward and to Billy is felt like walking through a curtain to see what was covered on the other side. "Now, stay within eyesight of me, and don't accept drinks you haven't seen the bartender make. And even then, keep to what you know," John said. 

Billy knew what to do, thank you very much. He's had talks with his neighbor Candy, and he's heard older teens whisper at foster homes, and him and Freddy have watched teenage party movies. He knows what to do and unlike John, he doesn't go pissing off every magical being he comes across.

He'll be fine!

-x-

He was not fine.

Billy was very much not fine at all.

He felt sick and nauseous and all he wanted to do was throw up, but he couldn't and that made it worse. Thanks to John's quick thinking, he managed to get them out before Billy's glamour wore off. Though, with how fast John was walking, he was practically dragging Billy along, making the sidewalk blur and the street lights flare painfully. 

"That's what you get for accepting a drink from the eternal witch boy," John said, voice teasing. It was salt in Billy's wounds along with everything else right now.

Words seemed to escape him for the moment, so he gagged and spat on the ground at John's feet to let him know how he felt about that.

"Didn't take you for a delinquent," John continued. He sounded more amused and Billy hated it. "Not that I'm judging, mind you. I had my first taste of alcohol when I was ten."

"Didn't know," Billy muffled out. He'd tried beer before, him and Freddy had snuck out with a can each one time. They'd stolen it from one of the foster dad as he lay passed out on the couch. It was the most disgusting thing Billy had ever tasted.

"Yeah, can't blame you there. Mead tastes deceptively sweet. Either way, it was from Klarion and that's where you went wrong."

Okay, he really did not need a lecture right now. It was Halloween and he nearly blew their cover and he may have become an ally to Klarion and they almost got found out by Zatanna and all Billy wanted to do was sleep forever.

Still incapable of words, because talking required thinking and that was not going to happen - Billy groaned.

"No, no sleep yet. Gonna need some water and greasy food first, or you'll be feeling even more like shit come morning. Good thing I know a place and they won't ask questions." 

At the mere thought of food, Billy felt his stomach turn and finally threw up. Surprisingly, it made him feel better. 

"Hmm. Good thing you don't have monitor duty tomorrow, you're sleeping in. And no patrol, either. Consider it an extended holiday."

Halloween had never been this eventful before, at least at a personal level, but it all honesty, Billy didn't feel an ounce of regret. This was probably his favorite year yet.

Vomiting in the middle of the street excluded.

[torendheavenandearth]

2.7

“‘When we put the fear of God into our children, we do so out of love. Remember: fear is love, and love is fear! How else will we be able to control the populace? The natural state of man is to hate, and to bring fear is to induce love. That is the way of things, correct?’ spoke the Arkserapin Diplomat to the court of celestial diwata.

‘No,’ replied BATALA, and with a finger smote the Burning One with a flick of Their finger.’” 

- From The Teachings of Dead BATALA

▼

Back in the commune, Babaylan Salinas looks up at the stars just as a lance of crimson light pierces the night sky. She gasps in a breath. The rest of the people that are there sitting around the bonfire look up as well. They all see it.

“Is that--?” Angela begins.

“That is Ang Nilapastangan,” mutters Adlay. “She’s released her burning fire… her Usbong has reached its utmost peak.”

Angela whips around to look at him. “And that means what?”

“She is fighting for her life,” says Adlay.

Babaylan Salinas shakes her head. “No, that is not yet Ang Nilapastangan’s full strength. That is only partway. However…”

“What?”

Babaylan Salinas’ eyebrows furrow. “The reason why the Karanduun may be sung of but thought to be legendary beings is because…”

The tikbalang, Damian, nods. “It’s because they die. Not many people that reach and obtain that sobriquet of Karanduun get to keep it for long. The Empire hunts them down and extinguishes them. They have an entire monastic order for it: the Inquest.”

Angela’s eyes widen. “Shit, the anghel!”

“Exactly,” says Damian. “They’ll be coming, any time now.”

“We have to save Ang Nilapastangan then!”

“We cannot,” says Babaylan Salinas. “If Ang Nilapastangan is pushed to use this much of her strength then it is safe to assume that we, as lowly Gahum beings, cannot match what she is inflicting violence against.”

Angela, frowning, runs up to her Donnie and they take off, in the direction of the plaza of the barangay. “Angela!” they scream behind her, but she doesn’t take heed. She has to help Ang Nilapastangan, or else she’ll have no one to turn to in this lonely, broken world.

In truth, she knew that deep in her heart she’d rather die than be lonely here.

Under the veil of night, she rides Donnie. However, as she comes closer to the entrance of the barangay, she can see the large winged feather-ships and stained-glass horses of the Anghel coming in from the road that they used to reach this barangay.

▼

Ang Nilapastangan’s grip falters. The Birhen takes advantage of the lull--she surges forward, her face splitting into that spider-centipede form again and stabbing at Ang Nilapastangan’s face. She curses as the blades break her skin, ripping at her face. She burns brightly once, and the blades wither away, melted by sorcerous radiation. 

The Birhen screams in agony, wings pointing at Ang Nilapastangan. She hurls them forward, like webbed spears against Ang Nilapastangan. 

Ang Nilapastangan’s eyes are blank, now.

She doesn’t even look at the wings.

Looking straight on, she cracks and then shatters and then rips the wings apart from the Birhen’s back. “Please!” The Birhen pleads as she writhes, half-Lulu and half-serpent centipede. 

Ang Nilapastangan presses her forehead with a single middle finger. When she pulls it away, her third eye splits open, a pastel gray eye floating within a blood red sea. 

“I will fucking kill you!” The Birhen screams in Lulu’s voice. 

Ang Nilapastangan walks over to the writhing head of Lulu and steps on it. “Make God Bleed, Birhen,” mutters Ang Nilapastangan, before she pulls her head back--she pushes away the frantic hands and centipede feet clawing her way to her face, trying to move it away--and then flings it down at the Birhen.

A crimson spear of power surges from Ang Nilapastangan’s third eye, going straight through the Birhen’s/Lulu’s face, burning her and splitting her apart, erasing her face from existence.

The room around Ang Nilapastangan dissipates. She falls. She’s plummeting. A red comet streaking across the night sky.

▼

Angela sees it. She leaps from Donnie onto the barricade. She clambers up but then stops as she sees the mass of corpses suddenly drop, inanimate. Robbed now of their flesh-seeking thirst. “What the--?”

She hears the thundering of glass hooves now. Cursing, Angela vaults over the makeshift barricade and rushes across the clearing. Despite her fears, none of the corpses suddenly reach up and grab her ankle like a zombie movie. She breathes as a sigh of relief as she reaches the open doors of the cathedral, where a huge mass of frozen corpses lay.

It doesn’t smell like corpses, fortunately. It smells like sampaguitas. The stench one apparently smells if an ancestor is somewhere nearby.

The fragrant smell of sampaguitas is good: Angela manages to push through the mound of corpses and fall over to the other side, falling into the open doors of the chapel. She grunts in pain as she falls to the floor, and her sounds echo.

She looks up and sees Jaime, strung up and bound to a wall by viscera and intestine and tendons and ligaments. There is a man in a priest’s frock that is kissing him.

“Hey!” Angela leaps to her feet. The man is bleeding.

She looks around for something to stab the man with, and finds a bloodied kris. She grabs it and then plunges it into the priest’s back. She’s always wanted to do that to some creepy priests, and this felt proper.

The priest doesn’t react as the kris stays on his back. Angela stumbles back, hitting the altar. The priest-man turns around, grinning, black blood falling from his lip. “It is done,” he says. “Finally, rest.”

“What the fuck?”

The man looks at her one last time. “Everything went perfectly.” And then he fell. He fell forward, his face slamming against the altar.

Angela looks away. She looks up at Jaime, who is stirring. She can see his veins throbbing with black fluid instead of actual blood. “What the hell. What the fuck. Putangina what thet hell.” She pulls the kris from the man’s back and uses it to cut Jaime’s fleshy bindings.

As she cuts the last one, Jaime falls onto her. He’s not light, but she manages to catch him and lay him down safely onto the floor. 

She’s breathing quickly. The night is eerily silent, now.

“Jaime. Hey, Jaime.” She shakes his face, but he doesn’t respond.

When she looks up, Ang Nilapastangan is there, entering after blasting the corpses away. She looks like a crimson angel now, her horns have turned into a blazing halo, her hair has turned into seraph wings. She is a Burning One, and Angela has to force herself to remember that this is Nila, someone she can look at safely.

“Where’s Jaime?” she asks, and her voice echoes with power.

“Here! Nila! Here! What’s… what’s up with you?” Angela pauses and looks her up and down. Ang Nilapastangan ignores her completely and walks straight up to Jaime. She puts two fingers in his mouth and opens his lips wide.

Angela blinks. Although, she does see the black veins lining the sides of his mouth… “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s ingested the Itim-na-Sisiw,” says Ang Nilapastangan, effortlessly carrying hiM. “It’s not going to be pretty.”

“Why? What does that mean?”

“I’ll explain later. I can’t believe you followed me all the way here.”

Angela blinked. “You were shining! Like a beacon!”

Ang Nilapastangan sighs and nods. “I know. Come on, quick. You brought your horse with you, right?”

Angela’s eyebrows are furrowed, but she nods. “Yeah. Why?”

“Come then, we need to get Jaime to your horse.” The two of them make their way through the corpse-ridden plaza. They don’t bother climbing over the barricade: Ang Nilapastangan simply flicks her finger and air displaces and the barricade is torn in two. 

Ang Nilapastangan doesn’t even let go of the incapacitated Jaime while doing it. When she’s done, she walks over to Donnie, who is struggling against the bindings that Angela put on him due to what Ang Nilapastangan did. 

“Sorry, Donnie,” says Ang Nilapastangan. Angela raises an eyebrow, somewhat surprised that Ang Nilapastangan remembers his name. 

Ang Nilapastangan walks over to him and puts Jaime over his back, and then shushes him with a few strokes of his mane. With that done, Ang Nilapastangan turns to Angela. 

Angela blinks. She’s looking up at Ang Nilapastangan, and she sees two weird things: Ang Nilapastangan crying blood and the glass-silk ships that float across the night sky. Beings with flaming wings encircle it, mosquitos buzzing around a carcass.

“Nila?”

Ang Nilapastangan opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes up. She swallows. Angela tries to wipe a tear away. “Are you okay?”

“Angela,” she says. “I’m sorry.” Her voice hitches. “I won’t be able to help you.”

Angela blinks. She doesn’t realize she’s crying too. Suddenly she feels the burning sensation in her eyes. “What? What are you talking about.”

“I have to stop them,” says Ang Nilapastangan. “If I don’t, the commune will die. Everyone will die. They’ll keep looking for me. It’s going to be impossible to hide me now. One slip was all they needed.”

“Nila… what--?” Angela’s voice hitches now. She doesn’t get why she’s so emotional. She doesn’t get why nobody ever explains things to her, why this always happens. What the hell is even happening? Why are there fucking glasspunk ships flying towards them then and there?

“Jaime will know the answers to your questions,” says Ang Nilapastangan. “Trust in him. And… help him. Go to the commune and travel northwest from here. There’s a city north of here. You’ll be safe there, for a while.”

“Nila, are you--?”

“Always remember, Angela,” her voice hitches again. “Always remember that you have to look to others for strength. There is no such thing as getting all the power.”

“What?”

“You can’t solve all your problems alone.”

“Nila, stop. You’re being so fucking melodramatic. Come on, you said it yourself! We can fix it together. We can hide away or something.”

“This is my atonement,” Ang Nilapastangan says. “The Sword that I broke uses its jagged edge to rip me apart. Now go.” She picks Angela up and puts her upon Donnie. With another swipe of the finger, she cuts the rope that bound Donnie, and the horse gallops, riding off in the direction of the commune.

“Nila!”

“Trust in me, Angela! I’m a Karanduun.” She breathes. “I’m the Swordbreaker.” Can she bear to lie to Angela for the last time? Is she strong enough to afford her the comforting hope of untruth? Is she strong enough for the burden? “I’ll see you when I can!”

It’s not a complete lie. It’s not a complete truth either. Perhaps this is the best compromise.

Ang Nilapastangan crouches, and then with an exhalation, she takes to the skies.

▼

Angela rides back to the commune with Jaime on the back of her horse. She rides quickly, moving faster and faster, until they are like the wind. For a moment, she wonders just how she got so good at riding horses so quickly, but that thought is quickly extinguished when two duwende wielding clockwork weapons and with the mark of the inverted triangle upon their foreheads burst from the earth, grabbing Donnie’s legs.

Angela is thrown off from her horse and she slams to the earth.

“Ah, fuck. What now?”Angela pushes herself to her feet. Mercifully, Jaime was thrown right beside her. She goes to him and tries to carry him, but he’s both taller and heavier than her. The two duwende are upon her, clockwork weapons gleaming.

Angela leaps back to avoid them, but one of the spears pierces through her right stomach. The pain is intense. Angela falls to the ground. 

“Shit.” She falls to her side as the duwende rush over to her. 

She’s bleeding. She’s bleeding out.

Behind the duwende, a young and strikingly beautiful young woman falls to the earth. Her features strike Angela as painfully East Asian. She’s wearing a sleeveless shirt made of tight abaca weave, and leather pants.

Blades burst out from the seams between her arms. 

Far behind her, like the moon following the sea, is a large cathedral sailing through the sky.

Angela decides, then, that maybe that’s it. That’s the end of her road. Time for her to say goodbye. She’s kinda relieved. She doesn’t have to suffer in this world anymore. She doesn’t have to learn how to survive against weird demon angels and shit anymore. All she has to do is give up and she’ll have rest.

But what about her mother? What about her little brother? What about Ang Nilapastangan, who promised to train her?

As if looking for an answer, she opens her eyes. Through the blood, she sees… 

--is that Jaime?--

He rises, spider-wolf legs erupt from his back, and he’s upon the two duwende, large bearcat maw ripping them apart. The japanese-looking woman frowns at him and leaps up to combat the demonic Jaime, but Jaime fights back. Savagery guided by the moon. His hair is pure white.

What the hell?

He manages to strike a fearsome blow upon the woman’s cheek, sending her skidding back on her feet. Then, as she’s recovering from the blow, Jaime turns around and grabs Angela with his large, demonic claws and they bound like shadows into the trees.

Angela sees through the pain, the Japanese-looking woman, who is simply watching them as they vanish into the trees.

▼

Save her, no matter the cost. That’s what rushed through Jaime’s head as he embraced the power of the Itim-na-Sisiw. 

It hurt, at first. Of course, all things hurt at first, don’t they? His heart burned. He is sent back into interdimensional void. Rabid magenta seeps through his pores, clutching his heart and then replacing it with the Itim-na-Sisiw. There is no more escape from his destiny.

Beast runs through the jungle. Binturong leaps from branches. Spider weaves web. Bat weaves through trees and crystal towers.

When Jaime awakens, he is reborn. The Binturong Spider-Bat, he now calls himself, and he is Asuwang. He is a demon shapeshifter, and he launches against the duwende.

When he dueled with the woman, he knew there was no winning. She deflected his attacks like she was swatting flies. The one good clean hit was a stroke of luck, nothing more. If he had messed up, it would’ve been the end of them. 

Now they rush through the trees, and soon, soon, now, they are flying across the river, and landing upon the commune.

Jaime cannot speak. Adlay and Damian and the Babaylan look at him in fear. Why are they looking at him like that? He shakes his head, offers Angela’s bleeding body--a dog giving his fresh catch.

Adlay has a spear out, rising and striking. Jaime parries it with a spider leg. Stop, I don’t want to hurt you, dammit! But they can’t hear him. In his demon form, humanity is lost.

Damian’s burning blade is upon his tail. He has a tail? It cuts deep, and it hurts, but Jaime knows it won’t do any lasting damage. Already he can feel the gash suturing on its own. 

Jaime’s gaze turns to Babaylan Salinas. He realizes then has six pairs of eyes, and he can see almost everywhere except for a spot on the back of his tail. With his wide gaze he looks to Babaylan Salinas.

Babaylan Salinas can see hearts. She would know.

But Babaylan Salinas has nothing but fear in her eyes. She shakes her eyes and kneels down. She’s muttering; she’s praying.

Babaylan Salinas doesn’t see him.

Adlay’s spear cuts deep into Jaime’s chitin chest, and Jaime howls in agony. Damian is hauling Angela away. Someone please heal her-- but the words do not come out. It is not for him to say. Not anymore.

Babaylan Salinas takes Angela and they retreat into her hut. More of the commune people leap out into the fray, wielding bolos and pana, all of them aimed at Jaime.

▼

Jaime doesn’t want to fight back. Kill me, he thinks. It’s what I deserve. BUT I MUST LIVE. The other voice is Jaime’s but a part of his that he has never heard before. The other voice is survival. ME, ABOVE ALL ELSE.

No, thinks Jaime. He’s fighting himself. No, they must save her. I can be killed.

YOU CANNOT BE KILLED. YOU ARE IMMORTAL.

No.

YOU WILL SUCCUMB TO THE FURY, EVENTUALLY.

I won’t.

But Jaime is young, and Jaime is incapable of measuring his own strength. How can he possibly know who he is, now?

Spear meets chitin and an arrow smashes against his eye. Fury grows stronger, unebbing waves against a bamboo dam.

Damian brings out a baril and shoots at his spider leg, blasting it off. The bamboo dam shatters.

What happens next, only the other voice knows. The will of the Itim-na-Sisiw. The curdling blood-red nature of demons. There is blood, and there are screams. The next thing Jaime knows, he is in the Babaylan’s house. The babaylan is split into three parts, still-beating. On his lap is Angela, who has been healed and administered herbal poultices.

Jaime is back to his human form. Naked. Crying. He brings Angela closer and drenches her shoulder in his tears.

He hears the tolling bells of the cathedral. He rises, finds some pantalones to put on, picks Angela up, and then rushes out of the commune. North, due north. That is the only safe place. North, to the city of San Isidro. 

Maybe there he’ll find out what he is, how to fix it, and how to survive.

Return to the Table of Contents.

[sassysweetstories]

Rivalry //Shawn Mendes Series

Summary: You are a demigod that’s been brought to Camp-Half Blood in hopes to find yourself and learn more about your powers. In fear of being bullied, much like before, you intend to stay behind closed doors until there in no choice but to come out about who’s child you truly belong to. 

Ship: Shawn Mendes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, fighting, swearing, fluff, blood, etc. 

Notes: none of these gifs are mine. i saw another fic about demigods and i wanted to try and make it a series. the thoughts been festering in my mind forever now. i hope you like it. (also, none of the demigods and gods are really related. because of the parents fucking around, it’s not legitimate in this series. I ALSO RECOMMEND YOU TO LISTEN TO THE PERCY JACKSON SOUNDTRACK WHILE READING THIS. IT’S SO COOL) 

Your P.O.V

Camp-Half Blood. There is was, staring back at me like some haunting horror movie scene. The outer perimeter only being lit by two burning fires alone gave me a strange mix of home despite the ominous setting. I belong here. I tell myself the same thought that I’ve been repeating the whole drive here. I belong here. This is the golden arches for the odd and weird kids, a place to feel accepted. A place where it’s okay to be different. Or, at least that’s what I was told. But I knew if there were teens here, people my age, there would still be judgement. There always is. And the trip here was nothing but ridiculous. This place seems to fall off the edge of the earth and right under the nose of humans. And yet, I feel a pull towards the location. I know in my heart that I belong. 

Despite the nerves that start to fester, I take a deep breath and walk forward. It’s dark and quiet but the second I pass through the veil, I feel a sense of comfort or warmth wash over me. You are safe here. It seems to say to me. Lugging my one suit case farther in, I find myself following the main pathway. That is until my eyes come across a centaur. He’s fucking huge, twice if not three times my height. "Mr. Brunner, I presume.” I say seriously. Everything about me screams business, not pleasure. But he ignores it and gallops up to shake my hand in mutual respect. “Please, call me, Chiron. You’ll be seeing me quite often. Might as well get on a first name basis.” I give him a hardy shake and follow him along the dark pathway, my heart beating with excitement and nerves. 

“Welcome to Camp Half Blood, (Y/n). I realize, as you’ve said before, that you do not want to disclose your parentage to anyone, but here in Camp Half Blood, we categories and home you according to your abilities. That is, until I realized who you belonged to-” He pauses, wary of his next words. “-We don’t get many rare demigods here, so in the interest of your discretion, and for you, and the safety of others, we will not disclose that information until it becomes absolutely necessary.” The second the words leave his mouth, I feel a weight being lifted off me. If anyone knew who I belonged to.. Gods, what a nightmare that would be. Mr. D continues to educate me on what exactly I would be doing here and the longer he spoke, the more excited I became. 

“Tomorrow (Y/n), I will personally show you around the facility, but for now I will take you to your living quarters, which are located not too far from the other kids but a good distance for privacy.” I want to look up at him and thank him but I’m so in awe by everything, I can barely form words. Instead I give him a small nod and unpack, mentally preparing for the next day to arrive. My house, since I’m the only one living in it, is a lot lighter than I thought it would be. It’s an odd mix of colors but nothing like I had anticipated. In one room it is black with shades of bright purple. In the other, it’s a vibrant orange/yellow with blue and green flowers the cover the ceiling which brought an odd contrast. It’s surprisingly warm and cosy despite my first wary impression. Everything about the room alone is far much nicer than I’d ever had. I can’t help but lean against my bed headboard and smile. I was home. 

The next morning I’m up bright and early, too excited to even hide it. I’m practically bouncing off the walls as I slip my shoes on. But the second Chiron shows up, I suppress it a little bit. I don’t wanna come off too strong, after-all. I’m not even outside before the sun is happily shinning down on us. The trees all gleam in delight under such warm and bright weather. I can’t help but smile at the sight. Birds fluttered above my head, singing their normal song. The trees around us sway against the wind and tower over my head like mountains. The longer we walk, the closer we come to the middle of the camp grounds. Kids of all ages and colors run by us in a hustle and bustle, not without giving me a once over, if not stare at me as if I had horns or something. 

For some reason, I’m something entirely new to them. It’s as if they know. Instead I stand up straighter, demanding respect and even scowl at some who dare to give me pointed looks. And instead of making the situation worse, I focus on Chiron’s words. “You will be training like the rest of the students. But before you get to that, you have a schedule with certain classes to obviously learn about your parents and the other gods here.” As we walk by, a boy with bright eyes and dirty blonde hair eyes me up and down like a piece of meat. He nudges his lacks and they look in my direction and have the audacity to howl at me. Instead of causing a scene, I clench my fists in frustration. Deep breaths. In and out. 

Finally pulling my gaze away from them, I can’t help but stand up straighter, as if I was trying to prove something to them. I can tell behind their cocky stares that their curious about me and what I can do. Who do I belong to and what I have to offer. But I hope they never find out. But all I know is that I do, in fact, belong. But if I wanted to show that, I would have to be on the field and in the classroom. My first class is Gods & Goddess and their powers. Before I even came to Camp Half Blood, I had always been fascinated by Greek mythology. 

I use to spend hours after school reading up on all sorts of stories only to find out I was the child of one them. Chiron escorts me to the class, if that’s not awkward enough. But when I enter, more than fifty kids look directly at me. I can practically feel their judgment filled expressions pressing down on me like an anvil. I suck in a breath of air, letting Chiron speak for me. “Professor Ryan, this is your new student, (Y/n) (Y/L/N).” I give him a hardly shake and give him my signature smile. I swear I hear a group of girls in the front sigh and swoon. Aphrodite kids, I’m sure. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss (Y/L/N). You can sit right next Mr. Underwood.” I glance up at the large college build lecture hall before my gaze falls on the satyr I saw early. He looks nice, giving me a warm and playful smile. I can’t help but return it because in all honesty, it’s quite contagious. When I take a seat, I pull out my hand for him to take. “(Y/n). Nice to meet you.” He grins and takes it before shaking it lightly. “Grover. Grover Underwood. Likewise!” It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Grover whispers comments at me the entire time, practically shit talking the professor. It takes everything in me to not burst out laughing. Once class is over though, we walk out together and the conversation flows comfortably. 

“Hey (Y/n), I wanna introduce you to my best friend, Percy Jackson.” A boy with ocean blue eyes waltz up to us, showing me an equally warm smile. I take his hand and give him a hardy shake. “Nice to meet you, Percy. Cool name. I’m (Y/n), (Y/n) (Y/L/N).” Percy is just as nice as Grover and they make me feel at home. He’s son of Poseidon apparently. Which took me by surprise. “You’ll meet the rest of the gang later. Until now, you’ll have to settle for us.” Percy says jokingly but I can already sense a slight insecurity. “I like your guys’ company just fine.” But the second the words leave my mouth, I see Percy and Grover ease up. The sight makes me chuckle. It was only the first day and I was already making friends. 

Grover has taken it upon himself to show me every nook and cranny of the camp, saying Chiron was an old fart who didn’t know any of their secrets. Pointing over to a warm pink lit dorm, he gave me a cheeky smile. “Aphrodite’s daughters. Hello ladies!” He gives them a wave and some of them giggle in response. I’d be lying if I said none of them were attractive. The art of beauty and seduction was always something they perfected apparently. Some even wink at me as we walk by. I can’t help but blush as we shuffle across the way. “Aphrodite’s daughters are nothing but wild, especially in the sheets. Stay away from them. Or don’t. I mean, I don’t stay away, haha. Not far from them is Athena, girls and boys are separated but that doesn’t stop us much. You’ll meet Annabeth later. She’s a child of Athena.”

We make our way over to the dueling field and the girl he was talking about, whom I believe is Annabeth, is dueling with three other opponents. I watch in awe as she beats them with ease, not a bead of sweat to cover her gorgeous features. I can’t help but gape as she strides over to us, looking nothing but powerful. “That was amazing.” I spew out before my mind could even think. Before she seemed more cold and wary, but the longer she eyes me, the more at ease she becomes. “Thank you. I’m Annabeth.” I take her hand, still gaping. “I’m (Y/n). That was incredible. Can you teach me how to do that?” She laughs at my genuine awe. “Of course, in due time. We have to meet up with the others.” 

“The others?” I can’t help but ask in curiosity. They all smile as Grover spoke. “Luke and Shawn. Luke tags along with us occasionally but he mainly sticks to the more jock type crowd, ya know? He’s more brutes than he is brains. But don’t tell him I said that. Besides, he only sticks around with us because he fancies Percy.” Percy shakes his head, chuckling lightly as we walk down a different pathway. “He’s my friend. They’re both really great. You’re gonna love Shawn. He’s super chill but can be a bit cocky at times. He’s also got a killer voice. Shawn might seem a bit off but he’s pretty down to earth-” Annabeth practically snorts. “And he’s not a dick like Luke.” I can’t help but laugh at the comments being made towards the young boy. “Is Luke the one with dirty blonde hair? I may have seen him this morning howling at me. What a douche.” They snort at my comment before nodding. 

We head over to the weapons hall and as we enter, I can’t help but gape in awe. Weapons from all shapes and sizes layer each side of the walls, some even attached to the ceiling. Running my hand over some, I can’t help but smirk at the glint of light they all give off. “Beautiful, ain’t she? You’ll start combat soon but before you get your hands dirty, you’re gonna need a weapon, eh?” Grover says to me, motioning for everyone to follow him. We do so and listen to the folk lore behind all of the swords and knives without homes. That was until a bright black shine caught my gaze. Without realizing it, I drifted away from the group to get a better look at it. Black as night, the sword stretches a good few feet with a dark red leather handle and small, thin white swirls etched across the blade. 

I feel a pull towards the blade, like it was meant for me. I’m so enthralled by it’s treacherous beauty I almost don’t hear the manager comment, “Gorgeous, isn’t she. Five carbon steel, practically unbreakable, with a dark red handle that’s both comfortable yet firm enough to grip.” I graze the outside of the handle and smile at the sensation. That was until the manager commented, “I wouldn’t try to pick it up. It’s the heaviest weapon we’ve got and you look pretty nimble.” I could stand men trying to down grade women. Instead of listening to his warning, I take the sword with one hand and lift, expecting it to be heavy for my too “nimble body” but instead it practically floats under my touch. I twirl it around and it feels like I’m holding air. “Are you sure it’s the heaviest? It feels light to me.” 

The look on his face is nothing but priceless. Jaw dropped to the floor, face white he manages to scrape the last bit of testosterone he had and heads to the front. I take the sword with a smile, intending to check out before I came to an abrupt halt. The blonde douche I saw early, Luke, I believe, was speaking to another boy in a hushed manor behind a stack of knives. He had chocolate brown hair and equally as appealing eyes. “I don’t know Luke.. We don’t know anything about her-” He said softly, scanning over the weapons. Luke replied hastily. “She could be a great ally when we have the battle Friday.” The chocolate haired hunk scoffed. “We don’t even know if she can fight yet! Nor do we know of her abilities! What could she possibly offer for the win?!” Luke rolled his eyes and nudged the boys arm jokingly but he didn’t seem to enjoy it. “Don’t worry. With my suave persona, she’ll be confessing everything in no time. We’ll win this fight Friday, Shawn.” 

Were they talking about me? They must be. Quickly and quietly, I slip away from them without making a peep and head to the check-out line. “Looks like you found one!” Percy exclaimed happily, eyeing my weapon of choice. Annabeth nods her head with pride. “That’s a beautiful sword. You’re sure about it though? Once you choose a weapon, it becomes like your mate.” Percy and Grover share a confused glance before shrugging at me. I look down at it with my own sense of pride, happy with my choice before nodding. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Percy’s eyes wander to someone over my shoulder. “SHAWN! LUKE!” He exclaims, smiling at the two. I don’t make eye contact with them yet. Instead I hand over my sword to pay. 

The cashier nearly drops the sword, half dragging it across the floor to scan the price-tag along with the belt attachment. “Do you need help?” I ask, trying not to smile at his struggling state. He puffs and curses under his breath, arms bulging in hopes to lift the weapon I’ve handed to him. “Nope, ugh, I- I’m f-fine-” The interaction has unfortunately caught the groups attention and Grover can’t help but ask, “(Y/n), did you get the biggest one?!” I glance over at him and nod. “Yeah, what can I say, I like big things.” The sentence was meant to be a casual response but all four of the boys turned bright red with embarrassment while Annabeth burst out laughing at their reactions. As I’m about to look back at the cashier, my gaze meets Shawn’s. 

His eyes are bright despite being a chocolate brown. They almost have a flicker of light to them. One I can’t particularly describe. He’s different, I can feel it. I give him a small smile which he returns with a mediocre smirk. “Hun, why don’t I take that before you pull a muscle-” I wrap the holder around my waist and tie it before taking the sword from him. He sighs, almost happy to not have to carry its gargantuan weight any longer. But before I can slip my beautiful weapon into its case, Luke saunters up to me with a cocky grin. “You must be the beautiful, (Y/n). I’m Luke. Would you like me to carry that for you?” Annabeth and I exchange a knowing look. What did this boy expect from me? To just drop my panties cause he decided to be nice? Pff. 

I give him the fakest, most innocent smile I could before sighing sweetly. “Oh my gosh, that is so sweet. Thank you.” I take a step back and toss the blade at him. He lefts out an “Oof!” before falling to the ground, coughing and grunting as he attempts to hold the weight up. I walk around his immobile body and stick my hand out for Shawn to shake. “I’m (Y/n). Nice to meet you.” The moment he takes it, I feel a shock run through my body, itching up and down my spine before it dissipates. What the hell was that? “I’m Shawn. Likewise.” When he lets go of my hand, his is warmer than when we first touched. I wonder if I rubbed off on him? He glances down at me with wonder and curiosity. We duel with our eyes, examining one another before looking away.

I strut over to Luke who is still thrashing on the floor before I lift my sword off him with one hand. He sighs in relief, taking massive breaths of fresh air to accommodate for the ones that have been taken from him. Sheathing my blade, I look back at Annabeth with an innocent smile. “Annabeth, hun. Would you like to go practice dueling?” She laces her arm through mine, waving at the boys as we walk out. “I think we’re gonna be very good friends.” I can’t help but laugh with delight at her statement, feeling the boys eyes follow us the whole way out. I can’t help but look back at Shawn and ponder. Who does he belong to? 

Annabeth and I head out to the battle arena to change and practice fighting. “So-” I say while adjusting my gear. “-who are Luke and Shawn’s parents.” Annabeth tosses me another accessory for combat before replying. “Well, Luke is Hermes kid. You wouldn’t have guessed it but he, like most kids, hate their parents. He despises his dad, which is understandable. And for some odd reason, he gets super defensive and competitive when it comes to battles. Thinks he has to prove something to someone because he thinks his parent isn’t the strongest. It’s all about titles to him.” 

I nod along to her words but ask about the other boy, not caring much about the first. “And Shawn? What about him?” She talks while she ties her boots. “Well I think Luke just hangs out with Shawn because of his parental title-” I sheath my sword, standing up straighter. “What do you mean? Who is his parent?” When she looked back at me, I expect her to tell me the name of a small god but instead it’s someone who rattles me. “He’s the son of Zeus.” I drop my shoe in shock, nearly dropping the rest of my stuff. Annabeth laughs. “Yeah. He usually has that affect on women.” I scoff, shaking my head before resting my hands on my hips. “Pff. No! I was just surprised. Um, that’s pretty rare, isn’t it?” 

She nodded, grabbing her sword before following me out onto the battlefield. “Yeah, it is. Percy and him are the only two sons of the big three. There hasn’t been a third son but I’m hoping it’s a girl. I think Luke is using Shawn and Percy’s friendship to get ahead during the trials and fights. It’s vile.” I nod along to her voice. She was definitely Athena’s kid, brilliant and tactical. “Okay so, what are you gonna teach me so that I’ll be prepared. I want to be as good as you.” Annabeth took a few steps back, stretching her muscles. “That might take some time.” I drew my sword and grinned up at her. “I’m a good learning.” Before I knew it, she ran towards me and our swords crashed together. “Let’s get started.” 

Annabeth is a brutal teacher but she’s nothing like Ares teachers. They’re ruthless and cruel, just like their god father. I half expect them to have sharp teeth. We practice for nearly two days straight I almost don’t notice it’s been that long. With only fruits, vegetables and water to keep us going, we keep fighting. It’s nothing but exhilarating. We’re dueling and running circles around one another so much I barely acknowledge the ever growing crowd that’s decided to make their way towards us, intrigued by our fight and what we have to offer, what I have to offer. I barrel towards her, dodging whatever attacks she intends to throw my way before slamming my sword down on her. When they clash, sparks fly. Our faces a mere few inches apart as we growl at one another before separating again. 

“How long have they been going at it?” I hear Percy ask Grover. To which he responded with. “Two days straight. A few breaks here and there but I’ve never seen someone hold a fight with Annabeth and not fall over. It’s incredible.” Luke and Shawn stand near the other two boys, watching us closely. I almost feel bad for Shawn but I’m then reminded that I don’t really know him. “Getting tired yet?” Annabeth asks me with a shit-eating grin. I stand up straighter with an equally as warming smile before getting into my fighting position. “Not even close.” The sounds of our swords clashing together echoed all throughout the camp. There wasn’t one person who knew we were fighting. She slams her sword down and instead of hitting me, smashes the grass. 

I turn over my shoulder to dodge her attack before making one of my own. When I reach my sword out, hers matches my movements. The tips threatening to cut the others throat. “You’re a fast learner.” She says, smiling up at me. We mutually sheath our weapons and examine the others sweaty state. “Gods, I need a shower.” I say, wiping off the sweat that dripped down all parts of my body. “I think the boys disagree.” Turning over my shoulder to see what she meant, Luke stares at me like I’m a prize, like I’m meat to be won over. Grover and Percy look at me as friends do, with pride. But I can’t quite pin Shawn’s facial expression. His is a mixture of things. Some I can’t read, others I can. It’s pride for a friend but with a hint of attraction, lust. “I think you’ve caught the golden boys eye.” 

I eye him up and down and watch as he does the same for me. I can’t help but take Annabeth’s previous words into consideration. If this battle is as important to Luke as she says it is, than how important is Shawn to him. What does he have to offer? What are his powers? Do they have limits? What if Shawn isn’t as innocent as people believe him to be? What if he’s just as wrapped up about the hierarchy as Luke is? Annabeth and I head over to the showers, very much in need of some soap. But the whole time I can’t help but ponder that all of this seems to dive deeper than I think. 

(I hope you guys liked it! This is just the introduction to the series. I think I’m gonna make it a 2-3 parter series. Comment below! I love suggestions and feedback!)