#in which case get it together you’re still using swords and arrows

[rainbow-femme]

I know a lot of times you’re really not supposed to think too much about it, but it always bugs me in those fae stories that have gotten popular in recent years when they have traditional monarchies similar to human monarchies

With a species that is functionally immortal how can you have a system of government where you hand down rulership from parent to child upon the death of the parent? With humans death is inevitable but if you only die when you are actively killed, then the heir would be waiting for hundreds if not thousands of years to get power and their parent being killed by some crazy accident or another person

You can’t tell me these guys are power hungry rulers while actively having ambitious heirs they are grooming for the throne because that kid 100% is going to kill their parent to get the throne eventually

And hey, build that into the society! An heir isn’t fit to rule until they are smart enough or strong enough to kill their parent for power, that would make an interesting book

But don’t just do the whole “I am the lord of the Spring court like my father before me and my son one day” when you are centuries old and hand your power down through death because that makes me think there have been at best like 4 generations of rulers this entire time

[jcmarchi]

Asgard's Wrath 2 Review - Worthy Of The Gods - Game Informer

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Asgard's Wrath 2 Review - Worthy Of The Gods - Game Informer

Asgard’s Wrath 2 stands out in a sea of virtual reality titles available on the market today. As the showcase piece for the Meta Quest 3, this sequel offers an experience rarely seen in the category, weaving together an exciting blend of action, intricate puzzle design, and semi-open-world environments. With the clever use of VR mechanics, you discover new surprises even after playing for dozens of hours. Asgard’s Wrath 2 is a VR game that’s difficult to put down, even as the Quest 3’s battery life often requires you to. However, while it does start out strong, it hits a few stumbling blocks along the way.

Asgard’s Wrath 2 immediately follows the events of the first game. The god of mischief, Loki, has managed to escape, and it’s up to you to track him down. The big difference now is that your journey takes you to the vast sand seas of Egypt, where you meet other deities willing to help you in your search.

There’s an immense world just waiting to be explored, which gave me a sense of awe as I looked at my surroundings and the sheer scope of what Sanzaru Games crafted. Moreover, the game’s visual flair, powered solely by a standalone headset like the Quest 3, remained impressive from a technical standpoint as I ventured through the picturesque landscape in this lengthy action RPG.

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As you play through Asgard’s Wrath 2, you control distinct heroes with their respective narrative arcs. For example, you encounter the warrior Abraxas as he’s robbing a tomb. Later on, you control the river nymph Cyrene in her own chapter. You also meet various animal companions, such as a boar that can wade through lava and a panther that can cause illusory blocks to solidify. These concepts, in terms of traversal and puzzle-solving, make each companion’s functions quite unique, though the A.I. noticeably fumbles during battles. In some cases, they won’t even attack an enemy right next to them until you manually target that foe.

Combat mechanics push the boundaries of what VR gameplay can be, thanks to each hero’s assortment of weapons. This arsenal creates genuinely unique and refreshing playstyles. For instance, I’d get into the thick of the fray as Abraxas, slashing with a whip-sword in my right hand while tossing axes with my left. Meanwhile, the ranger Alvilda required me to perform rapid flicking motions to shoot different magic arrows. Surprisingly enough, the most mechanically complex character was an undead scribe named Djehuty; I had to place both hands in front of my headset and make a pulling motion to decapitate the character; then, I could use the head to possess foes.

Regrettably, I had a few issues with the controls, especially when grabbing weapons, since the controller has difficulty detecting the action unless I sit upright. Likewise, throwing weapons or firing projectiles, even with aim assist options enabled, became frustrating and tiring.

Still, the most fascinating feature of Asgard’s Wrath 2 is its puzzles, which show what can truly be achieved by VR games in terms of immersion, creativity, and engagement. Since you’re playing as a god, you can use your divine form to take control of larger structures, often switching to your hero character, who then traverses the area with the help of animal companions. The highest praise I can give Asgard’s Wrath 2 is that, at times, it feels like the Zelda VR game enthusiasts have been waiting for. Major puzzles are presented as grand set pieces – moments that filled me with wonder upon reaching these sections and a sense of satisfaction upon coming up with a solution.

Sadly, the sheer abundance of puzzles leads to poor pacing during specific segments, such as escaping a dungeon’s traps, only to realize that another brain teaser awaited instead of a climactic boss battle. The game’s last few chapters also feel rushed compared to the arcs of the first two heroes. 

Asgard’s Wrath 2 still boasts an epic campaign that can take upwards of 70 hours to complete, chockful of numerous locales, lairs, and secrets to discover. Likewise, an infinitely replayable roguelike mode is waiting for you well after you’re done with the campaign and the overworld areas. In spite of a few qualms, Asgard’s Wrath 2 remains an offering worthy of the gods.

[rheawritessometimes]

{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } Childe gets an owie while sparing. Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Violence, Swearing, Angry Reader, Injury, Physical Intimacy (Kissing).

{ Notes } Hurting Childe just a little because he refused to come home for me. Lost the 50/50. Reader is a sword user. Reader is suggested to be the Traveler. Self-indulgent again because all my writing is. This one is a real trainwreck but I didn't want to go too long without posting. Something better than nothing? Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,404

Meeting Childe at the Golden House every week had been your routine for a while now. Right after you had defeated him the first time, he immediately begged you to train with him and you gave in, unable to bear those puppy-dog eyes. And the entire week he spent pestering you about it.

The whole fiasco with Osial had been put behind the both of you. It was probably true that you were too quick to forgive Childe, but he was just so charming. Not to mention he often paid for your meals, suggesting going out to eat after your sessions or if he saw you around the harbor. On a few occasions, you had been out eating with friends or on your own and found he had picked up your tab.

Since Liyue hadn't been destroyed and you got free food out of it, you really weren't all too upset about the situation. The Snezhnayan was actually pretty easy to get along with when Fatui matters weren't involved. He made you laugh too, so you supposed you could tolerate the once-weekly sparing sessions with him.

Childe called it sparing, but normal people didn't spar with actual weapons and fight like they were going to kill their partner. At first, you had tried to convince him it would be much better and safer for the both of you to use practice weapons instead of sharpened blades and arrows. He was quick to decline, saying something about both of you being competent enough not to get seriously hurt. You thought about refuting that on the basis that he had yet to beat you even once.

Even so, every week you found yourself pushing through the doors to the chamber Childe was always patiently waiting in. You'd never gotten there before him and wondered if he intentionally came early. You wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, he probably paced the room plotting his seemingly unobtainable victory.

The hydro vision paired with his combat experience and skill made him a difficult opponent, but he didn't seem terribly good at strategy. He might have been careless because it wasn't a real fight, but somehow you doubted that. He seemed the type to always give it his all. It could be that was his problem, since his loss usually came due to his exhaustion. Maybe if he didn't spend so much energy trying to show off he'd actually be a proper challenge.

"You're finally here," Childe proclaimed dramatically, voice echoing off the walls, "I thought you might have gotten lost on the way or something. Was starting to worry I'd need to go out and rescue you."

"I'm fifteen minutes early, Childe. How long have you been waiting?" you asked dryly, raising your eyebrow questioningly. You took a moment to shrug your adventuring pack off your shoulders and drop it near the door. You rolled your shoulders, relieved to be free of the weight.

"Ahah, anyways, we should get started. I have some business to attend to today," he responded, indiscreetly ignoring your question. It shouldn't have been very surprising that he didn't wait for your response before sending an arrow flying in your direction, but he'd always waited for you to signal you were ready before starting in the past.

Materializing your sword out of habit more than anything else, you raised it to block the arrow with the flat of the blade. The arrow bounced off the metal with a weak dink, clattering to the ground. If you'd reacted a moment later it would have pierced you.

You shot Childe a dirty look, irate from the cheap shot. He responded by grinning wider and taking aim again. You silently promised that he would face your wrath shortly.

Advancing towards him, you swatted the arrow flying your way with your sword. A bow would be less effective at close range, so you intended to close the distance. The redhead laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping into the sound at the pace of your advance. Or perhaps it was the building rage in your eyes.

The bow dematerialized, now Childe held dual hydro-blades in his hands in anticipation of close combat. Once in range, he immediately swiped at you with a blade. You stepped back out of the way, quickly bringing up your sword to parry the next slash coming from the opposite blade.

Childe seemed encouraged by you backing away, a smug look crossing his face. You furrowed your brows, he was so unthoughtful. He insists on using real weapons, shoots at you before you're ready, and now he has the audacity to get cocky.

You raise your blade to swing down at him and he catches your sword on crossed hydro-blades. He lets out a little huff of air, not expecting you to strike with such force, but his arms hold steady. You swiftly draw your blade back to slash at him again. Thorough training has you swiping at him with practiced ease while Childe is forced to switch to the defensive.

It gives you a sort of satisfaction to see his expression change to one of worry, it was your first time seeing such a look on him. You had no intention of actually hurting him, but it was nice to scare him a little. Maybe after this, he'd take the dangers of sparing with actual weapons a little more seriously. But probably not.

You're hardly thinking when his hydro-blades finally fail to parry your blows, the flat of your blade slamming into the side of his chest resulting in a soft crack barely loud enough to reach your ears. A look of surprise crosses your face when he lets out a pained grunt, what had happened finally being processed in your mind.

Immediately you drop your sword, ignoring it as it clatters to the ground before dematerializing. You were internally relieved to see his hydro-blades dissipate too, it would have been terribly unsportsmanly of him to stab you now. Stepping forward on instinct, you pause as you realize you're not exactly sure what to do.

Childe clutches his chest as he coughs a few times and a flood of panic washes over you. If you broke his ribs, his lungs could have been punctured. That would be bad.

"Fuck, that hurts," he huffed out before he attempted to gingerly sit down, right in the middle of the Golden House. Childe winced at the movement, but he managed to settle, leaning on his arms for support. His breathing was heavy from the strain of sparing and you felt extremely guilty, broken ribs had a tendency to hurt terribly and pain would flare up with every breath. At least he seemed to be breathing okay, so his lungs were probably intact.

"Let me get something to ease the pain," you said hastily, jogging towards the door to grab your bag. Your first thought was to numb him up before bringing him to Bubu Pharmacy to get some proper help.

"Aw, are you actually worried about me?" he cooed teasingly, maintaining that signature annoying grin despite the pain that followed him speaking. It was easy to ignore him as you rummaged through your bag for something useful.

It crossed your mind that it would be exceedingly difficult to get him all the way back to Liyue if you gave him anything strong. That limited your options rather greatly, adding that on to your lacking medical knowledge and limited variety of resources left you with fewer options than you would have liked. He probably could make it back without any anesthetic but it would be slow and you'd feel terrible for it.

Even with your lack of selection, you were thankful to have some knowledge and materials for this sort of thing, adventuring made you better at improvising and you learned a lot along the way. Taking everything into consideration, you decided it would be best to go with something topical. You could make a salve to numb up the area and then hopefully drag him to Bubu Pharmacy.

"I'm really sorry, Childe," you apologized, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh don't worry about it, this isn't the first time I've broken my ribs. Probably won't be the last, either," he replied with a laugh, which caused him to wince. You only frowned at him as you pulled out some plants to grind up. A rock would have worked, but you kept a mortar and pestle for this kind of thing after realizing you'd be doing it often.

You were soon mashing some leaves and a few petals into a paste, with some water Childe so graciously provided. Having a hydro user around was rather convenient when practicing field medicine.

"Whatcha makin'?" Childe asks after a short period of silence, leaning over to get a closer look. You wonder if he's actually curious or if he just can't tolerate the quiet. It seemed the two of you were always talking when you were together, save for when your sparing got too intense to spare the breath.

"A salve to numb you up so I can drag you to Bubu Pharmacy," you responded, still mostly focused on getting the paste to the right consistency.

"What? No, I can't go. I've got work to do," he argued, moving to stand up now.

You were quick to grab his wrist to prevent him from getting up, furrowing your brows. Childe paused, waiting for your explanation.

"You have at least one broken rib, whatever you need to do can wait," you told him sternly, maintaining eye contact. He turned his gaze away from you to hum in contemplation. He knew well enough that giving injuries time to heal was important, but so was his job.

"Fine, I guess what I was supposed to do today isn't that important," he relented, leaning back into a comfortable position once more. Childe had a feeling that if he had insisted on working you'd have found a way to stop him anyway.

"Can you take off your shirt?" you asked, trying to sound as casual and not awkward as possible once you were satisfied with the consistency of the paste. You would have offered to allow him to apply it himself but you figured it would be less painful this way, plus you'd need to bandage his chest afterward, so it didn't make much of a difference.

"Oh my, you're not usually this bold," he teased, reaching to begin undoing the clasps holding his jacket together. His remark made you decide against offering your assistance despite the awareness that even just wriggling out of the jacket probably hurt. It's okay to be a little petty sometimes. As a treat.

Once his torso was bare you shifted your position to be a bit closer and examined his side. There was already the beginning of bruising, but it would get much darker by tomorrow. You ignored the scars and other bruises that were present, very aware of the fact the redhead would tease you for staring if you looked any longer.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assured, "But it'll probably hurt a little."

Childe just hummed, waving off your warning, so you gathered some of the salve on your fingers. You silently wished you'd had gloves that weren't absorbent with you so your hands wouldn't grow numb later.

It was a quick process of spreading the paste over his ribs, but his eyes remained on you the entire time. You couldn't be sure if he was just interested in what you were doing, but it surprised you that he remained entirely silent.

"It'll take a little while to numb up. I'm going to bandage your chest for support. This will hurt more," you informed him, dragging your pack towards you to dig out a roll of bandages.

"Don't worry, I'm a tough boy," he laughed in response, and you could only smile and shake your head at him. You had faith in his strength, but that didn't stop the guilt you felt over being responsible for his pain. It did make you feel better when he started reminiscing on past injuries he'd sustained in battle once you began bandaging him. How he could look back on them so fondly was a mystery to you.

At first, you were mindful to touch him as little as possible while you were wrapping the bandages. They needed to be a little tight to provide support but you tried to ensure they put as little pressure on his ribs as possible. Unfortunately, your fingers started to grow numb and you hadn't realized you'd been bandaging too tightly until Childe let out a soft grunt of pain.

"Fuck, sorry," you apologized, quickly unraveling the last section of bandaging to rewrap it more loosely.

"Don't worry about it," he said, thinking for a moment before adding, "But, if you want to make it up to me, a kiss would make me feel better."

Pausing in your ministrations, you looked up to see a cheeky grin on his face. You raised a brow, giving him an entirely unimpressed expression. It wasn't entirely uncommon for him to flirt like this, trying to get a reaction out of you. But as you reached one hand up to gently grab his chin, it was his turn to become flustered.

Leaning up, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before moving away and releasing your hold on him. You patted his cheek twice, giving him an amused grin.

"You're welcome."

"Hey! That doesn't count!" Childe immediately whined, pouting at you. You could only laugh at his playful antics as you finally finished wrapping his chest.

"You're cruel, you know that?" the Snezhnayan grumbled, eyebrows still furrowed as he continued to pout. He really did seem like a spoiled kid at this moment and you laughed again, causing his frown to deepen.

You knew his demeanor was all theatrical, but as you stared at his expression you found yourself leaning towards him again. You gently pressed your lips to his, smiling into the kiss when his hands eagerly flew up to your face. You indulged in the kiss for a few moments, smirking when he followed you as you pulled away. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you halted his attempt to continue.

"You can have another kiss once you get checked out at Bubu Pharmacy."

-

If you read all that, I'm sorry lol. I wanted to spend more time on it but I don't want to take too long posting things. Anyways, if you have any better ideas for what I should write send them in. Please.

There's a part two now: Part 2

[amorousadepti]

❈ flood in my heart (childe x reader)

another belated birthday fic, this time for dear rat boy (*￣▽￣)b honestly did not expect to fall so hard for this bastard but here we are!! he’s an absolute fave and im not ashamed. actually Would have gotten this one out at the right time but my internet decided to quit on me so :^) sorry 

summary: childe has plans for you on his birthday. you have plans of your own. the day takes a turn neither of you expect, but you’re not complaining (gn!reader, no pronouns or anatomy descriptions)

warnings: loosely-described fight scene, vague violence, childe being childe

length: 2.7k

The letter is delivered first thing in the morning, sitting on your tray of breakfast and propped against your steaming teacup.

You take your time before opening it. When your belly is pleasantly full with crab roe tofu and you're sipping from your third cup, you finally deign to lift the plain envelope from the tray, studying it intently. Though it bears no name, you already have an idea of the sender; you'd never admit it, but you've been anticipating this day for a while. 

Your suspicions are proved correct when you slit the envelope and find a letter written in Childe's familiar chicken-scratch scrawl. It no longer occurs to you to wonder how he knew where you were staying - by now, you know that if Childe wants to find you, he will. Munching idly on a crisp lotus flower, you consider the invitation. 

If you have no special plans, how about you swing by my place? 

Was it just wishful thinking, or was he—

You shake the thought from your head, taking another emphatic bite of lotus crisp. The day is still young. You have plenty of time to bathe, dress, and then make your way to Liuli Pavilion. 

(And if you spend just a little more time than usual on your appearance, making sure to spray the perfume he'd once impulsively bought you on each pulse point - well, that's no one's business but yours.)

"Comrade!" Comes the customary greeting once you finally wander into the Pavilion. Childe bounds up to you with a vibrant grin, sweeping you into an embrace that lifts you onto the tips of your boots. "I was hoping you would come!" 

You hum, leaning into his embrace and desperately fighting the instincts that tell you to bury your face in the crook of his neck and breathe deep in his familiar scent - saltwater and cold iron and the warm musk of his skin. You allow yourself to indulge only for a few seconds, then step back to a respectful distance (though Childe, disregarding the memo, follows and keeps an arm linked with yours.) 

"Happy birthday, Chi—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" He wags a finger at you, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. "It's my birthday, comrade - the least you can do is call me by my name, no?" 

"Happy birthday, Ajax." You squeeze his hand, his fingers moving to twine with yours. "And many happy returns." 

Childe beams at you, a faint glimmer in the usually dull blue of his eyes as he starts to pull you after him. "Now, I did say I have some plans for you—" 

"You don't want your gift first?" The way he whirls on his heel, clearly thrilled at the prospect of being lavished with gifts, is... endearing. You raise the bag in your free hand, wiggling it tantalizingly. "It comes in a few parts, actually."

"You spoil me, comrade," he simpers, unsubtly trying to swipe for your bundle of treasures and pouting when you withdraw. You roll your eyes in fond exasperation, pulling out the first part of your gift: a small white box that fits in your palm, bound with a delicate blue ribbon. 

"Open this first." You don't even need to tell him, really - he's quick to snatch the little box from your hand, though you notice he takes surprising care in untangling the ribbon. His expression softens when he holds your gift in his palm, rolling the little white whale between his fingers as he studies every intricately carved detail.

"It's made from a whale's tooth, too," you blurt, suddenly desperate to fill the silence. "It's from Inazuma - the merchant said she only had a few left, managed to snag them before the border closed. I thought of you when I saw it. Thought maybe it could be a good luck charm or something." 

"Coming from you, it has to be lucky," Childe says, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. He tucks the carving into a little pocket (just over his heart) and pats the spot where it rests gently, his smile small but honest. "Thank you. I'll take good care of this." 

You clear your throat, averting your eyes as you thrust the rest of the bag at him. "These, too."  

He peers inside, and you watch his brow furrow as he studies your prizes: an array of shackles and chaos cores and a few jars of slime concentrate to boot. The fruits of many battles, compiled over the past two months. Comprehension dawns quickly, his hands clenching into fists around the rucksack as he glances up to meet your eyes. 

"That bow of yours could use an upgrade, right? Especially if you want any chance of beating me today," you say demurely, a faint smile pulling at your lips. "Once you're done, meet me at the Golden House. But don't expect me to take it easy on you just because it's your birthday." 

The smile that curls his lips is nothing short of bloodthirsty. It makes your heart flutter. "I wouldn't dream of it, Comrade!" 

The sound of his laughter follows you through the streets, spurring you onward. Sneaking past the Millelith is easy enough - this is far from your first time, after all. Honestly, you're pretty sure none of them are willing to deal with the hassle of you and your Fatui opponent. You slip through the great door with only the faintest creak, stretching to loosen up your muscles as you amble down the sloping stairs to the center of the floor. Your favorite battlefield. 

You're still stretching casually when the hair on the back of your neck prickles, carefully honed instincts suddenly crying danger! You call your sword as you stand straight, rising just in time to bat away the Hydro arrow that would have caught you in the right shoulder. Droplets of water splatter your face, a cool spray that sets your nerves ablaze with anticipation. Your blood pumps quick as Childe steps into view, Vision glowing at his hip. 

"Oh, comrade," he sighs, almost dreamily. "You really do know just what I like!" 

His voice is drowned beneath a cacophony of water as he launches himself at you, barely giving you enough time to raise your shield before he crashes into it with a splash. Your muscles strain, a fine tremble in your limbs betraying the force of his blow. Your heart pounds with excitement, a grin twisting your lips in answer to his eager smile. 

He leaps back, dodging a slash from your dagger, and knocks you off balance with a Hydro attack to your knees that sends you staggering back. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to cook you a hearty meal after I beat you." 

"Don't get cocky, now," you huff, finding your feet. You move together in a predatory circle, each waiting for the other to strike. "You haven't beaten me yet."

"True! Which will make my victory today all the more special," he chirps, bouncing a little on his heels with glee. "Do I get another gift if I win?" 

"So greedy, Ajax," you breathe, digging your heels in as you weather another rapid onslaught of arrows. "The pleasure of my company isn't enough for you?" 

"I can think of more ways to indulge in your company, dear comrade," he purrs when your blade locks with a ridge of his bow, leaning close over your crossed weapons. His tongue, hot and quick, licks a trail across your cheekbone. 

You lash out with a sloppy swing of your blade, striking only air as the Harbinger leaps back with a gleeful cackle, twisting on his feet so he can fire another shot at you. You roll nimbly out of its path, grimacing as you scrub at your cheek with the back of your hand. 

Oh, you definitely won't be making this easy for him. 

It's impossible to tell how much time passes in the Golden House; whenever you're here with him, it's like the world reduces to only you and Childe, the clash and tangle of your bodies across the hallowed floor. It could be hours or only minutes. Whatever the case, you're both panting, dripping sweat, and sore by the time you see an opening in his guard, launching yourself towards him for the decisive blow. 

Except— 

His bow clatters to the ground, discarded from limp fingers. Childe stands still and quiet, arms hanging at his sides, and the expression on his face as he watches you charge, blade-first, is like nothing you've ever seen from him before. 

You lower your sword, your boots skidding on the floor - but not fast enough to stop your collision, and you faceplant into Childe's chest with a grunt. One arm wraps around your waist, holding you close; the other finds the wrist of your sword arm, extended carefully behind you. For a moment, it feels like an embrace, just as warm and affectionate as the one you'd shared with him earlier. 

Then he twists your arm hard enough that you cry out, your sword falling to the ground with a clang, and the next thing you know, you're flat on your back, Childe's hands encircling your wrists to pin you in place. 

The puff of each exhale fans over your lips, his narrow chest heaving as the two of you catch your breath. You test his grip and find it unyielding, strong as shackles. Childe watches you writhe beneath him with a quiet intensity that both unsettles and thrills you, something about the glint in his eyes making your heart turn over in your chest. Somehow, it feels as though you've lost much more than a friendly spar. 

"My," he chuckles finally, though his grasp on your wrists remains like iron. "I have to be honest, I wasn't sure whether you would stop!" 

You toss your head, glaring up at him without much heat. "That was a dirty trick." 

"I know," he says, releasing one arm to tenderly brush the hair away from your sweat-slick forehead. You don't take advantage of the moment of weakness. He does not apologize. That's good - you think you'd be more annoyed if he said sorry without meaning it. "But it seems that it's my win, comrade." 

You sigh through your nose, exasperated but unwilling to fight. "That it is." 

He hums quietly, still studying you with that strange look - you feel oddly naked, pinned beneath his gaze. The hand that remains around your wrist squeezes gently, gloved thumb grazing your pulse point; you try to restrain a shudder, but from the way his eyes sharpen, you doubt you succeed. 

"Now, now..." He sighs in a show of exaggerated thoughtfulness. "What should my next gift be?"  

You grumble something vaguely along the lines of not having agreed to another gift. Childe ignores you steadfastly, snapping his fingers in realization. "How about a kiss?" 

You snort, prepared to brush the request off as another bit of harmless flirting, but the look in his eyes is not one of jesting. Your mouth suddenly feels dry, and you wet your lips with your tongue before you speak again. The way his cobalt eyes flicker to watch your mouth does nothing to help your focus. "Seriously?" 

"Why not?" He says, shrugging as though he hasn't just knocked your world off-kilter. Your mouth opens, but before you can speak, you feel his fingers caress your jaw, his thumb resting on the pad of your lower lip. The leather is blessedly cool; you feel feverish in comparison. He's looking at you like he could swallow you whole, and you think you would let him. "A kiss from my most beloved comrade... now that's a gift I would really treasure."

You inhale, a ragged, gasping thing that sounds more post-coital than post-battle, and lay still beneath his hand. The thought that you have yet to actually respond fails to occur to your fogged brain - until suddenly the contact is gone, the loss of his touch echoing in your chest, and something in Childe's expression wavers before he's sitting up, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes on his lips. He's shutting himself off from you. Again.

"Ah, well, it was only a jo—mmph!"

Huh. If you'd known a kiss was all it took to stop his rambling, you might've given into your desires earlier. 

His lips are a bit chapped but pleasantly warm against yours, and his breath smells surprisingly sweet - it seems you weren't the only one indulging in Liyue's traditional snacks today. He hadn't been prepared for you to pull him down, and for a breathless moment his full weight rests upon you; there's a guilty exhilaration in feeling the length of him pressed against you, his long legs tangled with yours and strands of his hair tickling your cheeks. Your fingers knot tightly in his red scarf, holding him so close you think you can feel the pounding of his heart in your own chest. When your tongue flicks against the plush of his bottom lip, he moans sweetly, a shudder wracking his lithe frame as he opens for you, a gloved hand cupping your cheek. You taste blood in his mouth and can't tell whether it's yours or his. The thought excites you, your heart hammering as your blood grows hot. 

A strand of saliva, tinted pink with blood, connects your mouths when Childe pulls away with a ragged gasp. His lips are swollen from your kiss, a deep flush coloring his cheeks to the tips of his ears, and his eyes are wide and startled. They almost—

Shine. 

"Comrade!" Childe exclaims, reeling back on his heels. You've never seen him so... off-balanced, his hands twitching helplessly in the air. You decide you like him this way. "H-How bold of you!" 

You blink, lazily propping yourself up on your elbows. "You were the one that asked for a kiss in the first place." 

He seems to fluster even more at the reminder, hiding his mouth behind his wrist. "I didn't think you'd actually do it!" 

"Aw, Ajax," you coo. Much to your delight, the blush on Childe's cheeks grows even darker, a red glow creeping down his neck. "Is the big bad Harbinger flustered all because of a little kiss? What would Scara say if he saw you like this?"

Childe grimaces. "Don't mention him right now, please." 

You laugh, loudly, until Childe's hands clamp down on your shoulders, pinning you to the ground once again. Your breath stutters as you look up at him, finding him watching you intently; that same strange, searching look as before, but mixed with something darker. 

Hungrier. 

"You should be more careful, offering a gift like that so freely," he murmurs - a breathless purr like you've never heard before, the promise of danger in his voice making your thighs clench. One hand moves to gently nudge the band of your shirt off your shoulder, the brush of his fingers against your bared skin sending your nerves sparking. "I might want you to give me even more."

The words spill from your lips easily, without thinking. "Then take more." 

Childe stares down at you wordlessly. He's barely breathing, lashes fluttering when you reach out and catch his hand, slipping your fingers under the tight line of his glove until you can peel it off his fingers. He says your name, soft and wondering. 

"You said that this was a gift you'd treasure..." You guide him to the tie of your blouse. Unprompted, his fingers curl around the loose knot. "So make sure to take good care of me, Ajax." 

Your blouse falls open with a gentle tug, and Childe falls upon you, locking your lips in a messy kiss as his hands roam your body wildly, seeking out every scrap of bare skin he can find. You're pulled onto your knees to straddle his lap as he sits back and pulls you atop him, breaking from your mouth to trail bruising bites down the length of your throat. The force of his desire crashes down upon you like a wave, filling your lungs with only him. 

You're glad to drown. 

[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!

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 3.3

"You can't run from us."  Aether's lifeless eyes stared straight through you.

"Your time has come,"  Paimon grinned evilly.

"Die here." Childe stood between them as they all surrounded you, his eyes more devoid of emotion than Aether's.

"Leave me alone!" Your shout echoed through space.  "You can't hurt me! Xiao will protect me!"

"You think he can protect you from me? Oh, ojou-chan〰" Childe knelt in front of you and grabbed your chin.  "You're naïve to rely on him.  But I suppose it's all you can do, since you're too weak to defend yourself."

"Xiao!" You slapped the Harbinger's hand away and scooted backwards.  "Xiao! Adeptus Xiao! Please!"

Childe's manic laughter drowned out your desperate cries for help.

You awoke with a gasp and sat up.  Who was it that you could trust?  Aether was your number one answer out of the three of them, but after seeing that expression on his face, you weren't too sure.  Helplessness overwhelmed you, and your eyes struggled to adjust to darkness.  The campfire was dim and close to burning out so you added a few blocks of wood without disturbing anyone.  You lay your sluggish body back onto your sleeping mat and finally caught your breath, the cold sweat evaporating in the cool spring air.

The rustling of leaves to your right made you snap your head in that direction. Who was tasked with keeping watch tonight?  A quick glance around the campsite answered Aether.  But no one showed themselves near the rustling, and Aether was on the opposite side of the campsite.  You glared into the darkness and instead of being greeted with malice, a gentle breeze brushed past your face.

Wind?  It didn't make any sense.  Nothing else was being disturbed in the camp besides your hair.  You felt someone's presence, and yet no one was standing there; your adjusted vision proved it.  The presence comforted you in some strange way, and it felt familiar too.  You peered up into the tree canopy and found no figures sitting on the branches as you had expected.  

"...Xiao?" You practically mouthed the word.  The breeze swirled around you a few times, brushing against your arms and shoulders, then blowing your hair out of your face until it finally retracted and caressed your cheek--a lingering touch.  "You heard me."  Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization.  

He had only been gone for two days, but you never felt his presence like this before.  Even in person.  He was watching over you the entire time, even if you didn't realize it.  You may not have called for him consciously yet he heard your prayers nonetheless and came to you.  You found yourself reaching out into the open air silently begging for the breeze to return to you once more.

It did.  

A swift yet gentle trace from your forehead, down the side of your face, across your jaw and ending at your chin.  You could feel the gentle nature radiating from the force, even if it wasn't a lot considering the yaksha only knew death and destruction.  Still, he persisted to try and convey his thoughts to you.  It felt as though he was smiling ever so slightly as he did this, and you smiled back at the empty space.

But as quickly as he traced your face, the breeze dispersed and he was gone.

........................................

Several days passed without incident, and the two adepti had yet to return.  Aether had decided that the group would make a trip west of Dihua Marsh in search of a treasure rumored to have been left behind by a yaksha long ago.  By the time the group reached the stone tablet that held instructions for this treasure, you were already overwhelmed with missing Xiao's company.

"'My name is Bosacius, one of the Yakshas,'" Paimon read aloud to the group.  "'I followed my Lord to fight against and contend with pestilence. Yet though we Yakshas had great might, we were bound by our duties, and stained by them...Liyue is now at peace, but of our number, none but Alatus and I remain. And for my part, I wish to depart, to be done with this world.  My wealth I leave here, sealed by my arts. If you are fated to do so, take them as you please.'"

"Did they...kill themselves?" You voiced the question on everyone's minds.  The group was silent as they contemplated the meaning of the yaksha's words.  

"If that were the case, I'm sure Mr. Zhongli would know," Childe stared grimly at the tablet.  There were no records of Alatus surviving nor dying as far as he knew.  Perhaps this adeptus was living a peaceful life he could disrupt on the Tsaritsa's behalf, and not waste time with you and Xiao anymore...

"I've heard stories of the yakshas," Diluc nodded.  "It's been said that some were driven to the point of insanity from fighting daemons under Morax's orders.  They'd be put down by their allies if they didn't kill themselves first."

"That's horrible," you muttered and lightly touched the crumbling stone.  "I've heard names of yakshas growing up, but this is the first time I've heard of an Alatus...what a pretty name.  I wonder what happened to them?"

"Paimon hopes they managed to find at least some happiness in their lives."

"Yeah..." You stood up and contemplated the tablet.  Alatus and Bosacius...I wonder if Xiao knew them...And to be driven to insanity no less...Xiao has the same task, yet he seems to be doing okay.  But what if he isn't? Your eyebrows scrunched together at the possibility.  I pray you're doing well, Xiao.

"Well, let's go find the treasure! Maybe those two hilichurl camps hold the light actuators!  And the other one might be up the hill!"

"You sure moved on fast," Aether commented.  "Let's see...Diluc and I can take the camp with the lawachurl.  Childe and Bennett could take the one over there, and you can go up the hill."

"Actually--"  Bennett stepped forward with a nervous grin.  "It would be better if I went alone.  I could get you injured!"

"A little injury won't throw me off," Childe assured.  "Don't worry so much, comrade."

"Uh...o-okay..."

"Can you handle yourself?" Aether turned to you.

"Yep! I'll yell if I need help."

The group dispersed.  You climbed up the hill to be greeted by two powered-down ruin guards.  The light actuator sat in a locked cell tower.  One ruin guard sat at the top of the stairs connected to the tower, while the other sat a little too close to the rock you needed to use to free the actuator from its prison.  

"I should be able to get up there without waking the machines."  You carefully walked up to the glowing rock and started slicing at it with your sword.  Once it shattered, you grabbed the orb that burst from it and made your way over to the left side of the tower, placing it in the lantern that sat half-buried in the ground.  You sheathed your sword before climbing.  

Once you got to the top, your foot slipped and kicked a rock over the edge of the structure. You had just grabbed the light actuator when you heard the metallic sound of machinery standing up behind you.  The rock had hit the sleeping ruin guard.

"Crap!"  You peeked below you, and found the cyclops eye staring straight at you.  It turned around and bent over slightly, and heat rose from its back as it fired up its rocket launchers.  You scanned your surroundings.  If you ran left, you would wake the second ruin guard.  If you went right, you risk breaking your ankle if you land wrong.  Either way, the rockets would hit you since you wouldn't have enough time to dodge at this distance.  "Dammit."  You clicked your tongue and threw yourself off the tower before you could hesitate.  The rockets hit the cell and launched chunks of concrete into the air.

You rolled on the ground for a few feet, and sat up.  The ruin guard was now facing you, but instead of following through with its programmed set of attacks, it squatted and readied its launchers again.  

"The eye!  I need to hit the eye!"  You pushed yourself to your feet and hesitated.  You were at a larger distance from the guard this time; it would be simpler to dodge now and attack after.  If you ran towards it now, you'd definitely get hit.  Your hand fell to the hilt of your sword.  I could throw it.  It was instantly unsheathed, and you chucked it at the eye of the machine.

You missed.

It had hit right below the eye and clattered unceremoniously onto the ground.  You frantically glanced around for something to hide behind. A medium-sized rock was to your left.  It wouldn't provide full cover, but it was better than nothing; you dove for it and covered your head.

Nothing happened save for the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air.  You peeked over the boulder to find that Childe had hit a bullseye and transitioned into his hydro blades.  He defeated the ruin guard in less than ten seconds.

"It's a good thing I got here in time," he turned to you and his bow disappeared behind his back.  "You would've been seriously injured if you had gotten hit with that rock."

"T-thanks," you rose from behind your lousy shield.  "But I had it under control."

"Oh?"  Childe plucked your sword off the ground and handed it to you with an amused expression.  "This sword's seen better days.  I'll get you a new weapon."  You sheathed your sword without replying, and Childe's face fell.  "Are you injured?"

"Luckily not."

"That's good."  Relief laced his voice, which relieved you of some of your suspicions.  His gentle smile was replaced with a sigh.  "Bennett broke his arm."

[inkandpen22]

Otherworldly Kings and Queens (2/?)

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Female!Reader / Prince Caspian x Female!Reader  

Warning: mild mentions of violence 

Word Count: 1.8k

Part Summary: Y/N and the Pevensies search the surrounding cliffs and they start to piece together what happened since the Pevensies leaved. Then, someone is nearly attacked... 

A/N: As requested, I’m releasing one more part today! In the next part Y/N meets Caspian!!!! Get hyped! 

Masterlist

After our antics on the beach, the five of us hike up the cliffs after Edmund spotted some old runes he mentioned not remembering. Peter holds my hand the entire way. One, because when does he not frankly? Two, because I don't keep my eyes ahead of us as I'm too distracted by everything around me. I've never seen any place Narnia! There's so much untouched land, for as far as the eye can see! I've lived in London my whole life. There's constant noise and good luck finding a patch of grass that isn't a park. I had only ever been to the ocean a handful of times and it never looked like this one. The water is so clear and crystal blue! Also, I swear I saw an actual mermaid tail flick up through the surface at one point.

"So you really don't remember these?" I question, referring to the runes. 

"Not from what I can recall," Edmund pants ahead.

Once we finally reach the ancient-looking stone structures, we all start to wonder about the place individually to figure out where we landed. Peter and I, however, remain together and stroll about. Trees and bushes of various kinds have grown over the rubble. It's must've been centuries, perhaps even thousand of years, since this place was inhabited.

As Peter climbs to the tallest point to get a better look, I pick a bright red apple from its branch and toss it to Lucy with a giggle. I stroll over to the edge of the platform that overlooks the western coast. Scattered bits of green covered land streak the horizon. Whoever lived here was lucky, they had the most incredible view! The sunsets must be unparalleled.

"I wonder who lived here?" Lucy questions beside me.

"I think we did..."

I glance over my shoulder and Susan holds up something in her hand. I narrow my eyes at the shiny object and I go over to join her.

"Hey, that's mine!" Edmund announces as he takes the thing from Susan. "From my chess set!"

"What chess set?" Peter interlocks his hand with mine once he reaches us.

"Well I didn't exactly have a solid gold chess set in Finchley did I?" Edmund sasses, examining the piece.

"It can't be!" Lucy runs off, shocker.

The four of us follow the youngest swiftly to catch up. It annoyed me when she would run off in London and I know that city like the back of my hand. If she continues to run off in a foreign land... okay, so I don't know what I'm going to do, but I sure won't be happy about it!

Lucy takes Peter's hand and starts to escort him up a platform. I slip my from his, which earns me a subtle glare of annoyance. I snicker as Lucy aligns Peter in a specific place. She sets each of her siblings in a spot, clearly onto something. 

 "Imagine walls," she instructs. "And pillars there!" She points before stopping in her own place on the far side. "And glass roof!"

I observe the four siblings lined up a few feet above me on the platform. I start to see what I think Lucy is envisioning. The pile of rock behind each of them, they're remnants of thrones! I look to Peter and he's starting to process it too.

"Cair Paravel," he concludes with a solemn expression.

We continue searching the once glorious palace that Peter vividly described to me countless times this past year. Peter is understandably crossed and has grown quiet. All I can do is continue holding his hand and rub my free one on his arm comfortingly. I hate not being of more use in figuring out what happened here. In my defense, I've never been to Narnia before.

Edmund jogs ahead and kneels beside a boulder. "Catapults," he mutters.

"What?" Peter finally breaks his silence.

"This didn't just happen," Edmund determines. "Cair Paravel was attacked."

After a moment, Peter marches off with a stern expression. Silently, he takes me along with him on his march without slowing down. Lucy and the others follow, just as confused as me. Clearly, Peter knows where he's going and is on a mission to get there. I would ask him where exactly our destination is, but I prefer to keep my head.

Abruptly, he stops in front of a tower-like structure. He releases my hand and starts to remove brush from the building. Edmund helps him press against the stone which eventually shifts to reveal a worn wooden door with a lion engraved on the handle. Peter picks up a rock and starts to go at the wood panels. The door breaks and gives way to expose a dark stairwell leading down. I glance over at Lucy and Susan who simply watch their brothers act. Evidently, they must remember this place too.

Peter rips the bottom of his shirt and starts wrapping it around a stick he’d picked up. "Don't suppose you have any matches, do you?" He checks with his brother.

Ed starts to dig through his bag. "No, but would this help?" He reveals his torch.

The girls and I giggle. Of course this would happen.

"You might've mentioned that a bit sooner!" Peter laughs.

Ed starts leading the way down the stairs. Peter gestures for his sisters to go then holds out his hand to me. He follows behind me down the grumbled stairs. I'm really trusting these four not to get me killed, aren't I? The three ahead of Peter and I and hurry around inside. 

Sunlight pours in from skylights and my eyes land on four golden trunks are line up perfectly in a half circle.

"I can't believe it," Peter expresses as he appears by my side. "It's all still here!"

The three younger Pevensies start to search through their old trunks while Peter and I examine the dusty treasures that have been knocked around from the attack. Peter picks up what appears to be shield and blows away the dirt that hides the giant lion face on it.

"Was it your's?" I ask over his shoulder

He hums, holding it out for me to see better. "Many years ago..."

My eyes flicker up from the shield and land on a marble statue ahead. The figure appears so familiar, yet how would that be possible?

"Wait," I step forward to study the face better. "Is this you?" I point.

"Yes," Peter laughs, placing a hand on my lower back gently. "Again, many years ago. I was older then."

I shake my head in awe, "yeah, no kidding."

"Here Y/N!"

I turn my attention to Susan and she tosses me a royal blue velvet gown. "You can borrow it," she grins. "It'll help you blend in."

I hold up medieval style dress in front of me. The only time I ever imagined myself wearing something like this was for Halloween.

"Take this too," Peter hands me a dagger from his trunk.

"Why would I need a weapon?" I frown. 

"Not every creature in Narnia is necessarily in favor of us," Edmund snickers, glancing between his siblings.

Peter rests his chin on my shoulder as I examine the red leather handled dagger in my hands. "It's alright," Peter comforts with a whisper in my ear. "I'll keep you safe... promise."

"I could I at least have a real weapon?" I request, laughing lightly. "If I'm going to be in real life threatening situation, I prefer to have a weapon that doesn't require me to be mere feet from my opposer!” 

Peter snickers, collecting items to change into. 

"I might as well kiss my life goodbye,” I add under my breath. 

"I got this katana as a gift from the Emperor of the Eastern Desert Lands," Edmund offers.

"What's that?" I've never heard of it before.

Ed removes the sword from its sheath with a whoosh as I cross the chamber to him. Its curved, thin, long, blade would be perfect. I graze my finger tips across the shining blade, in awe of it.

"I did research on it when we returned to our world. It's native to Japan, amongst the Samurai," he explains, placing the sleek black and gold handle in my hand.

"Hey! Hey!" Peter appears at my side in a blink. "Careful!"

"I got it! I got it! Don't get your knickers in a twist," I tease. I turn hold the sword up right to admire the blade closer.

"You could get hurt with that." Peter still worries.

"I could get hurt by someone attacking me too," I sass, lowering the weapon to address my friend. 

His eyes meet mine, filled with annoyance. He wants me to simply agree with him all the time. 

I smile, "wouldn't you prefer I have a sturdy way of defending myself?"  

"I think your words and wit would be enough to frighten them," he smirks.

"You charm me,” I blush. 

"Always do," he winks, taking the katana from me before someone gets hurt. "You can get it back when we leave. After that, I want it in its sheath unless absolutely necessary! I mean it, Y/N!"

I watch him slip the blade back into its leather casing cautiously. I place my hand over his to gain his attention. 

"You may be the King of Narnia, but you forget I'm not one of your subjects," I mock playfully.

"You're right," he agrees surprisingly. Gently, he picks up my hand and places a kiss to the back of it. Then, his features turns serious. "But while you're here your safety is my responsibility."

I roll my eyes, I hate how he patronizes me. One would think I'm one of his little sisters too with how protective he can get. Actually, he's less overbearing toward his siblings, even Lucy and she's significantly younger than me! With my luck something bad will happen, I will be away from Peter, and then what? I will be left with the dagger toy he gave me. As soon as I get that sword in my hands, I'm not giving it back. I'm just going to have to prove my capability to Peter.

___________________________________

Okay, so Edmund was right, some creatures don't like us! A black bear quite literally attacked Lucy! Fully charged at her and was going to eat her as a midday snack! That was until the DLF shot it with his arrow. DLF as in “Dear Little Friend.” His real name is Trumpkin, he’s the dwarf we saved from some Telmarines. Telmarines are apparently from another land in this world. They're human like us, but not friendly! I repeat not friendly!

Peter quickly grabs his little sister and pulls her to safety by me. I take her into my arms and comfort her as she cries. 

"I thought you said the animals could talk?!" I scream at Peter, rightfully distraught. 

"They can! I mean... they could..." Peter stammers, evidently just as lost as me.

“We... we just killed an innocent bear!” I stumble over my words. “We took an innocent animals life!”

“Innocent?! He was going to kill Lucy!” Edmund justifies it. 

“Y/N’s right!” Susan defends. “It clearly didn’t know any better!”  

“It was probably hungry!” Trumpkin shouts over all of us arguing. 

“Great! That makes me feel so much better!” I shout at the dwarf. 

"You've been away for a while... ” Trumpkin grumbles bitterly. 

He pulls his dagger and stabs the bear. I cover Lucy’s eyes so she doesn’t see the horrid sight. Peter notices me grimace and guides my face to hide in his chest. 

Was the stabbing really necessary?! It’s dead! 

“I think you'll find Narnia is a more savage place than you remember,” Trumpkin adds. 

"Oh lovely!" I sarcastically remark. "Looking forward to it!"

"Just stay close to me," Peter instructs, keeping one arm around me and the other around Lucy. 

"Don't have to ask me twice," I mutter, utterly afraid. 

Narnia is supposed to be this fairytale lovely land! There are pixies and stuff here! Where are the dancing trees?! Where are the people made of flowers?! I envisioned Neverland and I got a fence-less zoo! 

_______________________

Tags:  @hyperactiveravenclaw @rangergranger11​ @blackbirddaredevil23​

Masterlist

[elizabeth-mitchells]

Andy keeping and caring for Quynh's gear and gives them back to Quynh when she escapes

Every day Quynnh is more and more… herself. There are bad days and setbacks and nightmares and everything in between. But Quynh is a warrior, and she wants her life back. She’s putting an extraordinary effort to reclaim her life, her love, and her joy. For Andy, it’s been something beyond admirable to watch, and she feels more in love with her with every passing second. For example, she’s overwhelmed with joy at Quynh’s giggling reaction when she takes her to the abandoned mine in France.

“This is new,” Quynh murmured as she traced her fingers over centuries-worth of art and weapons that Andy had deemed worth keeping. Quynh felt a pang of pain thinking about those five hundred years she missed, but with a quick shake of her head she decided to refocus her attention elsewhere. “Ah, now this is familiar,” she smiled, picking up an arrow that she remembered used to be her. She miscalculated, thinking it wouldn’t hurt, but once again she made an effort to shove down those feelings. “Poor thing has seen better days,” she added, studying the extremely worn-down weapon.

“Yeah, I was a little slow in figuring out some stuff needs special care to be preserved,” Andy said, scratching the back of her head a little embarrassed. But as soon as an idea popped in her mind she stepped closer to Quynh. “Which reminds me… there’s something I want to show you, if you’re in the mood for a small trip with me?” Andy asked.

Quynh had been avoiding looking at her, fearing her emotions would finally overflow, but she couldn’t hold back her smile when she noticed a bit of nervousness creep into her lover’s tone. When finally Andy’s hands found hers and held her delicately, Quynh looked up. “Let’s go then,” she answered.

--

For months Quynh had been putting almost insane effort at keeping her emotions in check. It was getting increasingly difficult, especially considering that Andy’s trip was to Vietnam. The feelings creating a storm inside Quynh’s heart were indescribable. The world had changed so much it was difficult to wrap her mind around it, but seeing at least some slightly familiar places, some slightly familiar traditions and sights and culture, it was almost too much. And then they finally arrived at the safe house Andy had as a destination.

It was a beautiful place, much more comfortable than most safe houses the team ever had. It was well kept and Quynh didn’t know how, but suspected Andy had put an unusual amount of money, time and effort on this place. It didn’t click until Andy brought her to a special room, where even the doors seemed strange to Quynh. She didn’t think inside that strange room there would be anything familiar, and she was immediately proved wrong.

“I was a little late in thinking about it but, not too late, thankfully,” Andy started explaining as they stepped into the room. “Back then it was a matter of bringing the most delicate things to specialists every few decades or so. It wasn’t until around the time we found Booker that I really thought of having one place where I could safely keep all our most important belongings.”

That’s what it was. That room was filled with modern shelves that look a little strange to Quynh. The temperature and the air were controlled, some things included labels and instructions. Specialists from all over the world in weapons, metals, and art, visited that place regularly to take care of all the objects kept there. Paintings, sculptures, axes, swords, bow and arrows, jewels, dresses, things that immediately sparked some of their best memories together, little things almost entirely forgotten but undeniably familiar. It was all complicated, but the message was clear. Andy had kept, collected, and taken care of everything Quynh had left behind, and it was all there, waiting for her, just like Andy, knowing she’d come back.

“Quynh? Was it a mistake?”

The fear and worry in Andy’s tone was what it took to shake Quynh out of the daze she was in, and realize she had started to cry. No more holding back feelings then. She threw her arms around Andy and held her as tightly as possible, crying against her should and when she calmed down the only thing she wanted to say was “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Andy was smiling brightly, even through her own tears. She tightened her arms around the love of her life one more moment, kissed the side of her head and finally asked, “Does that mean you want to stay?”

“Stay?” Quynh pulled back enough to look at her as she asked.

“Yes, stay here,” Andy smiled, her uncharacteristic nervousness showing up once again, “It’s not just this room. I’ve kept this one house always ready in case you came back. It’s really beautiful and it has everything we need and I think you’ll like it and… it can be just you and me, for as long as you need.”

Andy got her response in the shape of a kiss that told her everything she needed to know. There was no reason to worry. Despite all the time apart, despite the new scars and pain, they were still the women that had loved each other for thousands of years.

[silentprincess17]

A Proposal Gone Awry

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | AO3

Summary: Link has been touring the breadth and width of Hyrule to clear out the remaining monster camps, and soon enough, he reaches Zora’s Domain. Mipha asks him to wait before he heads back to the castle, which he was intending on doing... but some mischievous children may have other plans.

Part 4 (Final)

Mipha floated in the pool, the water cascading in gentle waves over her prone form.

It was the fifth time she had left her own private pools after a prolonged period of recovery. She waded her way through a sea of guilt, shame, mortification, longing, pining and despair. Heartbreak was a painful thing, and it was a shame her Grace couldn’t heal it. Still, her time in almost near seclusion had helped her to come to several key realisations, which she could freely admit after the initial torment and hurricane of emotions drifted into colder water.

Number 1: She realised how much she had fooled herself.

Really, she had never even talked to Link about her feelings, planning to use the armour as her segue on the topic. An armour given at an engagement! What had she been thinking? How had she deluded herself into it?

Number 2: The answer was that she was simply too scared. Too terrified to ever voice her affection for him. And it had all backfired so spectacularly. There were so many signs that she had, simply put, ignored. All the way from Link saving Zelda during their journey, to finding out who they really were: soulmates bound through all of time and fated to be together. Her cheeks coloured, from thinking of all of the ridiculous explanations she had made up in order to continue living in a fantasy she had constructed in her mind.

Number 3: All of this could have been avoided, if she had talked to him properly.

Still, it was too late to regret it now, but with hindsight, she should have done everything differently from the start. She could have saved herself so much pain. The only saving grace she had was that Link thankfully had no idea what was going on. She didn’t even want to consider what would have happened had he realised.

The flow of the water changed, and Mipha instinctively looked up, as Bazz walked in, holding a bloom of Blue Nightshades in his hands. Every day since she had returned from the castle, he came carrying a small bundle of flowers as an apology. He had noticed how reclusive she had become, and the blanket of sadness that covered her like waves covered the ocean. She had reassured him multiple times she wasn’t sad because of his little stunt, and he didn’t need to bring flowers, but the poor boy had taken it to heart.

He had even brought the whole gang over on the first day that she had left her rooms, each of them bearing a gift. Bazz himself had brought her purple hyacinths, which apparently “symbo-bolises forgive-ness”. Gaddison had polished her treasured Lightscale Trident, something which Mipha hadn’t held for over two months. It had felt so good to wield it in her hands again. Rivan had given her a hearty blue snail, whilst Sidon had given her a huge hug, and a pendant that had Vah Ruta engraved into it. She knew her father must have helped him, but she still appreciated the effort he had put in. Once she had hugged him, he had softly whispered in her ear that she was his Hero, and he wanted her to smile again, like this, and he had given her the best gift of all- his trademark smile and pose.

It had made her feel comforted and helped her realise that she had a family here. She had responsibilities. She couldn’t just hide away from the world because she didn’t have the courage to talk to the man she loved, and now he had been taken away.

She was Mipha, Princess of the Zora, a daughter, a sister, a warrior. Yes, Link had played a large part in her motivations. She had always wanted to protect him, ultimately. First by healing his wounds, then by fighting the lynel with him, to finally creating an armour containing a piece of herself. But what she had failed to realise then, and she understood now, was that it wasn’t just all for Link. It was for her Domain, for her people who she would eventually rule over.

After that fourth realisation, it became easier to ease herself out of her rooms. To slowly begin to partake in the council meetings. To swim in her home’s beautiful waterfalls. To allow herself to heal.

She smiled as Bazz shuffled closer, his sword still scrapping the floor with every other step. He held out the peonies he had gathered today, and this time pressed a letter into her hand. She raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything, just shrugged. She flipped it open, and it was about an event at the Flight Range. She read, and reread the short brief,

To all the children in Hyrule,

I, the Great Revali, Champion of the Rito, will be offering free lessons in the all-important field of archery.

Should you want to participate, convince your parents/guardians to bring you this Saturday to the Flight Range.

Teenagers are welcome on the following day and for those who do not possess this basic knowledge, I mean Sunday.

Remember that if you do come, I will expect nothing less of excellence, or at least, the maximal effort to be demonstrated until you achieve said excellence.

Master Revali, Champion of the Rito

Well, she never would have guessed Revali liked children. Or indeed teaching. He… well, she wouldn’t say he was the most patient of the Champions. Still, it was good of him to do… probably. She wasn’t sure he would have many students left after the first session.

But why had Bazz given this to her….? She got her answer when she looked up to Bazz’s huge, silently pleading eyes. She sighed. The children had done a lot for her these past few months. It was the least she could do to supervise them on a short trip. It was highly likely Revali would scare them all away, if she was being honest, which would be the main reason she wouldn’t want to bring them. Still, if they wanted to go, then she would accompany them. It was only right she gave back a little of what they’ve given her.

She smiled as she heard Bazz screaming to the other three and lifted herself out of the pool. She was out of practise with her spear, and she was certain Revali would notice. Not that she cared for his crass comments, especially considering what she had gone through these past two months… but she was still competitive and just in case he asked her to practise like they once used to, she needed to make sure she wouldn’t fail within the first minute.

The children squabbled together on the swim to the Rito Village. They were excited for their first time out exploring Hyrule, and she had to remain vigilant if any one of them decided to pop up for air and sit on the bank to appreciate the views. Whilst she did understand how shockingly green the world must appear to them when compared to the Domain, there were still monsters around, and these children were all her responsibility.

Soon enough they arrived, threaded in amongst the throng of people present in the Flight Range. Revali was at the entrance, by a giant board of names. He held the chalk in his hands as he wrote down the name of each child at a specific time slot, before directing them towards the bonfire that was burning in order to stay warm. From what she could make out, around half of the slots were filled, with lessons starting at 1 pm. As this was the sign up session, no one had been assigned into classes yet. She assumed it would be dependent on the numbers that turned up today…

She made sure the children were organised in file row by age, with the eldest first, (Gaddison, Bazz, Rivan and Sidon) before she approached Revali.

He merely nodded at her, wrote down the four names and directed her in much the same way as everyone else. Well, she wasn’t expecting favouritism, but surely in light of their history he could- wait- actually… What did she want him to do? She had only had a few training sessions with Revali, and aside from the battles they had fought together, she had rarely interacted with him. He didn’t tend to stay for the informal sessions they had as Champions, and, as he rubbed a lot of their group the wrong way, she had never paid much attention as to why that was.

She only smiled, asked if he needed any help, “No thank you, Mipha. Just head to the bonfire.” And Mipha understood his curt dismissal. He looked stressed, and she wouldn’t want to exacerbate that.

After a couple of hours, it was the Zora children’s turn. All of them headed off towards the Flight Range, were given basic instructions in how a bow works by Revali, and a brief guide into using a paraglider as an emergency safety check. The main benefit of practising at the Flight Range was that even if they slipped, or lost control, the wind was so strong it would buffet them in the air until Revali himself would pick them up. Anyway, no one would be flying out unless they fell; the first lessons would take place on the deck whilst aiming at the target just across.

Mipha was not afraid of anything going wrong. She trusted Revali. Despite their differences, Revali would never let any of one of them down.

Gaddison did the best, she adapted well to the new weapon, a swallow bow, managing to hit the inner turquoise ring after five arrow shots, whilst Bazz came in second hitting it after eight. Rivan managed in twelve, and Sidon could only hit the outside ring. He was perhaps too small for this sort of venture. Mipha understood his need to participate though; she knew he really wanted to be accepted into Bazz’s brigade, and she wouldn’t stop him from trying to fit in.

Whilst the children were firing at the target, she came to stand by Revali. He was intently focussed, but she thought she could perhaps try to get him to relax a little.

“This is a really good thing you’re doing Revali… training the next generation of potential archers.”

He fixed his emerald eyes on her, funny, how she had never noticed the startling colour before, “Well thank you, Mipha. Not all of us are handed our legacies. I have to make my own.”

She paused… hesitated a little as she thought over what he meant. It was true: she had never realised but all of the other Champions were in positions of power. She was a Princess, Urbosa was Chief of the Gerudo, Daruk was Chief of the Gorons. Zelda was Princess of Hyrule, and Link was Captain of her Royal Guard team. Except for Revali. His only title was Champion… “Perhaps that is a good thing. Self-made legacies are the ones that people remember the most.” He didn’t reply, so she asked another question. “How did you come up with the idea of making the Flight Range a training centre?”

He wrapped both arms around his chest, which she read as a little defensive, “Teba. His son, Tulin, trains here. Well. I guess I should say, ‘will’ train here.” He shook his head, “Anyway, I also don’t want to be remembered solely by the Rito for having trained Rito warriors. I want this to be an endeavour that spans across Hyrule. Archery is just as, if not more, important than simple swordplay.”

Ah. There it was. She wisely chose not to say anything else on the matter, “It’s an admirable aim, Revali. And from the volume of people here… I’d say you are in a good position.”

He merely shrugged. “It’s only the first session, Mipha. It would be foolish to assume the same pattern for the future.” He hesitated, looked at her ornamental silver again, before his gaze flickered away onto the children. He cleared his throat, risked another glance at her, before speedily asking, “Why did you change your armour?”

She was about to respond to his initial statement actually, to reassure him that it would work, and that he was a Champion which would undoubtedly make people want their children to be taught by him, but he had caught her completely off-guard. “What do you mean?”

He jabbed a feather at her clasp. “That never used to be there.”

Oh Goddesses. How would she explain such a thing? How had he even noticed such a small difference? “Well, one of the scales needed to go. It happens sometimes.” There. That wasn’t a lie. Technically, the scale had to go, and it didn’t happen often obviously, but she wouldn’t have to explain the ins and outs.

He paused, just for a second, before continuing on, “Is it susceptible to attack?”

“Well, yes-”

He jutted in, “Would you like to train then? It’s important to maintain your defence. Especially with such a pronounced wound that anyone could take advantage of.”

She did not mention the wound was, in fact, sealed completely by the clasp. But she appreciated his offer. It had been so long since she had properly trained with a Champion. And… now actually, she could remember him doing the same thing at the ball. Had he spotted it from then? Had he wanted to ask if she was okay from then? Had he wanted to train… to help her better defend herself from then? She wasn’t sure why she found that surprising, but it felt good to know he cared. “Okay.”

“Monday evening… at the Domain, for your convenience?”

She nodded, and with that, it was the end of the children’s turn. She established what time, exactly, on Monday evening, and invited Revali to come over for dinner. He hadn’t had a chance to visit the Domain properly in all the chaos of the Calamity, but there was no such rush now.

Mipha had a giant pile of things to do, and she tried her best to do it all quickly. First, she dropped the children back to their home familial pools, reassuring their parents that everyone had been well behaved. Then she informed her father that she had invited Revali to dinner so preparations could be made in time. Finally, she visited her Divine Beast, Vah Ruta... She paused at the entrance, smoothing her hand across the door. Ruta was pleased to see her Champion back, and Mipha found herself falling back into her routine of caring: she gave Ruta good clean, and even ended up having a late-night bonding training session to attempt to prepare herself for Monday.

In all her haste to do it all, by the time she finally reached her pools, she was so tired she immediately blacked out.

It was only in the morning that she realised, for the first time that night, in the span of two months, she didn’t think of Link. Of her failed proposal. Of her shame and embarrassment at reading the whole situation so wrongly.

And she finally braved the courage to pull out the package that she hadn’t touched since that evening. She decided it was time to post it to Link. She wrote a short note about completing his armour set, and she didn’t mention anything else. By letting go of it, and subsequently of the feelings that were associated with it, Mipha finally felt lighter than she had for a long time.

She grabbed her Lightscale Trident, keen on getting some practise before Revali came. Who knows, maybe he could teach her some archery too. Whatever it was, she was keen to finally put her trident to some good use again. For the first time in two months, she had something to look forward to… a goal she could achieve.

Perhaps her proposal had gone awry… but it had given her a much needed wake up call.

She was more than a girl who loved a boy.

She was Mipha, Princess of the Zora, Champion of the Zora and of Vah Ruta, a warrior and healer that contributed to the destruction of the Calamity. She was Sidon’s hero, and it was time she lived up to it.

Mipha stepped forward, her Grace poised in her movements, bold, determined, and ready.

[specsforwoo]

Son of Notus | Demigod!Ten

Parent Deity: Notus ( God of the Southern Winds)

Allegiance: Aether

asldkfjaslkj Airhead much

Okay he is actually really smart

But he hates showing it because he doesn’t want to be stuck up

Like top of his meteorology class

But also top of of his modern dance class

He really likes dancing

It makes him feel like he is flying

Which is the best feeling in the world if you ask him

Kinda found out he was a demigod on accident, but he doesn’t even know he is a demigod asldfkgj

LIKE IT WAS A MAJOR ACCIDENT

So maybe he got a little too heated in an argument and a desk was flown into a wall

And he didn’t touch the desk

Notus is known for being the most temperamental of the Wind Gods

And it definitely passed on to his son

Oops

But he is also probably one of the most laid back of his friends beside Johnny

His personality really changes depending on who he is around

He likes to act silly around Taeyong and Yuta because seriously those two need to take a chill pill and down it with a Piña Colada

But when he is around his half-siblings and younger demigods he turns really protective really fast

And when he is around say Johnny or Chenle or Haechan he becomes the somber one because someone needs to stay calm when those three are together

So he actually got brought to camp rather forcefully

Because apparently when a monster is hot on your tail it tries to directs you to other demigods

Which is exactly what happened

Remember that desk that flew into a wall, well the person he was arguing with was actually a cyclops shrouded by the Veil

Good job, Ten

And the monster chased him all the way to the camp

But like he wasn’t claimed yet and had only known about his powers for a few mere hours, the poor boy

So he crossed the borders to camp and suddenly the cyclops stopped chasing after him? But he was open in the middle of the woods?

Until he turned around and he saw this huge green field with a pavilion and a lake and what looked like 50+ cabins in the distance and an amphitheater

And he was even more terrified because what in hell is this place and how could I not see it before

And suddenly this young girl who was probably around 5 years old with green skin came up and latched onto his leg

And now he’s even more scared bEcAUSEe GreEEN SkiN

But then a normal human walks up to him and sees the cyclops outside the border and kinda just goes oh, new demigod? Have you been claimed?

And honestly he is ready to pass out

Which he does

So apparently after he passed out (the little girl started crying because the cute man is hurt) that random demigod called for help and helped carry him to the pavilion before calling the Apollo/Achelios Camp Leader to check him out

After he woke up it took him a realllllly long time to process everything

And that night when he went to sleep in the Hermes cabin he was still super confused and kinda scared. Because did his mom know where he was? His cellphone dropped into a river while he was being chased. Did he even know where he was? Was he a freak? A million thoughts were running through his head at once

After barely sleeping a wink he woke up to an blow horn and 3 campers cackling around his bunk

Which got him mad and when he clenched his fist the blown horn popped

Oops

So basically he was in the Hermes cabin for around 3 months because no one had claimed him but he had also shown powers limited to demigods so he definitely wasn’t an outsider

And he actually got into the swing of things

Archery was cool, he was okay at it

He didn’t like swords that much but he could survive

But wow, flying on a pegasus? That was the best feeling in the world

He loved the go to the track and fly around after dinner until midnight

And suddenly one day while he was training with his pegasus, Tadd, he got bucked off the saddle while everyone was watching

It was at least 30 feet high

And he landed on his damn feet

And the next thing he knew he had a shining silver cloud erupting in flames over his head

And a voice in the back of his middle, deep, gruff and spiky was talking to him about how he was ready to face the challenges as the son of a god, a specific god: Notus

And Ten was really happy, so was everyone else because 1) they had never had a son of Notus here before and 2) Everyone could tell Ten couldn’t wait until the day he found out who his father was

So Ten has probably been at this camp the longest except for Jaemin but that’s a long story

And the one thing he does do during the summer is go out into society to look for other demigods

Which was how he met you. He had tracked you to a small town outside of Seoul and you were just like any other person

Music blasting in your ears as you walked down the street, humming along, eyes glued to your phone

And he almost thought that he had tracked the wrong person

Until he noticed your little obsession with gold.

Not like you were robbing banks and jewelry stores but as he got closer to you in order to bring you to the camp he realized you like to sew clothes with gold colored thread, Your jacket had gold embroidering. Your phone case was gold

When he brought it up you just laughed and said that your mom had told you all your life that gold was your dad’s favorite color and for a while you used to use it to give a connection to him but soon it became your favorite color as well.

And one day while he was meeting you up for coffee at a local donut shop, he noticed a shadow out of the corner of his eye but decided to ignore it

2 hours later he was gripping your hand running down an alleyway trying to pull drachma out of his pocket so he could hitch a ride back to camp and away from the Griffin currently chasing you down

Apparently waiters don’t like it when you try to send cold coffee back

He finally got you in a Hermes Cab and spent the entire time to the camp explaining what had happened

Let’s just say you took it a lot better than he did and didn’t have to be carried inside the camp borders

He was about to take you to the Hermes cabin when a Sun and Lyre appeared simultaneously above your head

You had been claimed by Apollo in the mere 5 hours you had been aware that you were a demigod

And Ten had to admit, he was jealous, why did he have to wait 3 months when you had to wait 5 hours

But he was also happy because he knows the feeling of finding a missing part about the puzzle that was a demigod’s life

So he goes and introduces you to your half-siblings and you immediately fit in

And he usually leaves new campers here, their cabins will take care of them now, but he doesn’t want to leave you

But has to because Johnny keeps Iris messaging him from the Aether Cabin about some party he needs help setting up

And to his dismay it seems like you don’t even notice him leaving

Or even his presence for the next 3 weeks because you have been getting along with your siblings really well

But one day Johnny is throwing another party and it spread across the entire camp, but he just wasn’t feeling it

He seemed even more bitter about the party than Taeyong

And you were there of course, talking with Sicheng (your Camp Leader) and Taeyong but kept noticing Ten just sitting in the corner reading a book? It was about modern dance okay

So you excuse yourself from Tae and Sicheng to go and plop down next to Ten

They were both totally giving you wiggly brows and side eyes

But he looked up from the book, startled to see you sitting across from him

You were the first one to speak

You're usually the life of the party, what’s going on?

Just not feeling it

It was easy to tell he didn’t want to talk about it, at least to you

So right as he went to pick up the book again you cut it

ThankYouForFindingMeAndBringingMeHereAndIReallyOweYouBecauseYouSavedMyLifeAndIDon’tKnowHowToRepayYou

*Breathe*

AndI’mEvenMoreSorryAboutAvoidingYouBecauseIDidn’tKnowWhatToSayAndYouKindaMakeMeNervousBecauseIThinkYouAreCute

And you realized what you said right after you said it causing you to jump out of your seat, racing pasting a chuckling Sicheng and Haechan while blushing

Did I mention Ten is also Track Captain at camp because Wind Gods are super fast and that passes on to him and Johnny just hates running

So he caught up to you right in front of the lake holding your arm

I think you are cute too

And he leans down, kissing your cheek

And he walks you to the Apollo Cabin, kissing your cheek again before going back to his own cabin

It’s the first night since his first day at camp that he can’t sleep

But he doesn’t mind it this time

They think I’m cute too. *cue unmanly giggling at 4 am followed by a pillow thrown from Johnny’s side of the room*

And the next day it’s back to when you didn’t know you were a demigod

You and Ten are practically joined at the hip

While he helps you with agility and reflex you help him with archery

And you both are great flyers

And while he practices dance, you play the harp to create simple melody for him to follow

You guys really just compliment each other in every way

Making you the perfect team

Especially when chariot racing is on the table

You are a much better marksman than he is and he is a much better driver than you lol

So basically every time you 2 team up for racing

No one else wants to join because they know you will win

So the Camp Director forces you two to be on separate teams with in your own cabins

Which means you are paired with Sicheng, who is a great driver and an even better shot

And Ten is stuck with Johnny, dear god

Actually Johnny is really good with a Javelin and Sword so you know you are going to have to watch out for him

And you two get competitive

Remember how I said you make a perfect team?

You might make better enemies lmao

Ten tried to drive your chariot off the track so you Stuck a javelin in his back piston

Sicheng fired a flaming arrow into their hold so Johnny sawed through half of your reins

In the end you won

Shhhh, Ten wants a recount

Okay but he is really excited, jumping out of the chariot and racing over to you while Sicheng is trying to pull at your arm to go to the pavilion to be crowned with a golden laurel

And Johnny is silently sulking on the second place pedestal

But once you and Sicheng are hoisted onto the first place platform and you are crowned he is screaming and hollering and just overall being a really supportive boyfriend

But when you guys go onto the track competition he whoops your ass and doesn’t think twice about it

But you are there in the crowd screaming and hollering and being an overall supportive girlfriend

And later that night the camp decides to hold a sorta dance to commemorate the competitions and their winners

And everyone takes it seriously

Like after a straight week of pushing each other into mud and water and falling of pegasi in the sky and pushing your way through monster infested forests

Everyone wants to dress up and be slightly classy

So the Aphrodite and Eros houses have had boys and girls alike weaving in and out of their common areas because they offered to help everyone look their best for this event

And you and Ten agreed to not reveal your outfits to each other until you met up at the pavilion

And you were in a light blue dress that you got an Aphrodite kid to enchant so it would look like clouds moving around the ripples in the dress

And Ten was in a flowy gold top, half tucked into slacks and a couple buttons undone. An Eros kid temporarily threaded his hair with gold

BEST DRESSED COUPLE ANYONE

So basically he forces you into the middle of the dance floor and does that cheesy slow dance in the middle of everyone else jumping around and headbanging

But DJ!Mark totally notices so he switches the song to a self composed one that has a nice melody to it and soft vocals so he can create the mood for you two

And you are both slightly swaying to the music, nothing too fancy, definitely not what everyone was expecting from Ten

But you have you head on his shoulder, his hand encaptured in yours with his other on your waist as you both whisper a small conversation

And he mentions he’s met Apollo once

Which totally shocks and scares you… because he’s met your dad? The god?

But he just chuckles under his breath, and whispers in your ear about how he made Ten promise to never hurt you or he would face the full wrath of a god

Which got you even more scared because Ten… pls dont get hurt

But he laughs under his breath again and lets go of your hand to pull something out of his back pocket

And it’s a charm bracelet with a lyre and a cloud on it with a cursive T too

And as he slips it onto your wrist

He whispers about how he told your dad that he would quicker marry you than hurt you

a n y w a y s

Ten is a really soft bf and demigod and person in general

Unless it comes to hurting someone he loves

Then he can and will seriously injure someone

But other than that

Everyone looks up to him

Not just because he has been there forever

But because he has shown he has what it takes to protect the camp and how much everyone in it means to him

Especially you

[mihidecet]

Sbi&co: D&D AU: The Hunt

Hello everyone! I’m a tad bit late but I do hope the extra wait was worth it ahahha

And I hope you’ll enjoy it! Let me know if you do, and as always thank you for reading! <3

"Alright boys, can everyone hear me?" 

Tubbo's voice sounds crystal clear through the arcane earrings they have been given, but Quackity's nose still scrunches up: it's so weird to see his mouth moving in front of him and hear his voice come from a completely different direction. 

Thankfully - or maybe not - they won't be seeing each other much during this game. Another good thing is how he won't have to do much running either, if everything goes well; he still feels very much sore after last week's obstacle course, so he absolutely does not mind staying back and coordinating everyone. That and, if anyone was in need of help, he could swoop in and save the day - always a win in his book.

Quackity gives a sharp nod with his head towards Tubbo, who smiles enthusiastically before turning back towards Fundy to resume talking about how they'll manage to replicate the enchantment for themselves. A part of him wants to get in on the fun, fantasize about how quests will be so much easier with the ability to communicate remotely. He can already imagine a grand infiltration mission that that would require elegant gowns and fancy clothes, concealed weapons and arcane tricks hidden up their sleeves, all with the objective of recovering an artifact of vital importance- 

But he stops and shakes his head, as if it could get rid of those silly dreams. For once, it's not like he can really … stay; and also, he has much more important things to do.

Niki is in the process of stretching when a young looking wizard skips towards them with a blinding smile to let them know that they'll be opening the gates in less than five minutes. He figures that maybe he should have been warming up too, but his favourite pastime has always been people watching - which is extremely nostalgic for him and probably slightly weird from an outside perspective. Before he can lose himself again in his own mind - nerves will do that to him, he’s been noticing - a hand appears in front of his face and he grabs onto it on instinct. The fact that he’s hoisted upright quickly and efficiently clues him onto who it was, and he smiles gratefully at Niki. 

She looks up at him, reciprocating the smile except for the slight furrow in her brows - a silent question, her wondering of why he’s been spacing out, but it’s not that bad after all, he can definitely handle it; he waves off her worries, gesturing with his head towards the bright gallery that will lead them towards the arena as he chuckles to himself. 

“Is it time? I must have spaced out for more than I expected!” He half-jokes, willing to share his worry only partially, and realises he’s probably said too much when the crease in Niki’s forehead only deepens.

“Are you feeling well, Quackity? Is your shoulder still hurting?” The bard is - painfully - reminded that he is talking with a literal angel as her hand reaches forwards, palm already glowing slightly golden with what he’s come to learn is the sign of her healing divine magic, and he takes a step back, hands raised to stop her.

“I’m all good, no problem at all! I just got- distracted for a moment. Needed to clear my mind and all that ... It won’t happen during the hunt!” He adds hurriedly, suddenly realising that spacing out isn’t a really good sign when you’re supposed to be in charge of coordinating the whole team, but still, he knows what he has to do and he’s not going to lose himself in his own mind while they’re working - he wouldn’t still be alive in his line of work if that was the case! 

But there’s a hand placed on his shoulder and Niki is smiling at him again, which has, for better or for worse, always been able to calm his nerves down. It’s not even like he’s know these people for a long time, and yet he knows that if he could, he’d stick around for the rest of his days, probably. If they wanted him to. 

“It’s alright, I understand. I know we’re in good hands, we’ve been training for this.” Niki comments, sounding so sure of her words that he feels like he agrees with that too, to hell with his own self doubt. 

“Of course! We know we’re in safe hands, big guy!” Tubbo adds, startling as he once again appears to reside inside his head, and Quackity is suddenly hoping that he didn’t accidentally broadcast their conversation to the rest of their team. 

Before he can add anything else - or ask very subtly if either heard them talking - an arm is suddenly slung over his shoulders, the smell of ink and sulfur worming its way into his nose as Fundy leans on him and starts leading him towards the tunnel. 

“Come on, enough with the training and the moping, we have amulets and gold to collect!” The conman exclaims, receiving a raised eyebrow from Quackity himself as the bard resigns to becoming a temporary armrest - he’s learnt that that is simply what Fundy does, be it in his fox form or his human form, he’s always on his or somebody else’s shoulders. It’d be sweet if it wasn’t for the indirect reminder of his height, or lack thereof. 

“Oh, and you would know all about collecting gold, uh?” Quackity quips back as Niki and Tubbo both fall into step with them, Tubbo’s mechanical bee buzzing right behind. 

“It was one time!” The shifter laments, prompting the rest of the group to burst out laughing, Niki’s voice raising over the others’ to protest:

“It wasn’t just one!” 

Then, the roar of the crowd fills their ears, and they step into the arena.

It doesn’t take Fundy much to reach the first portal.

The arena has been suited for the occasion, since what used to be a huge but empty field of sand is now a thick, jungle-like forest, with vines that droop from a ceiling of leaves and brightly coloured plants that snap their petals at him when he runs by. 

It didn’t take him long to get used to digging his way through the foliage, his shifter blood surely aiding him in the process, but he still tries not to move too fast - he will need to get back to the main clearing multiple times, to bring back the amulets that will give them more time to explore. 

One of his hands lightly grazes a leaf, leaving behind a smear of orange - he has Quackity to thank for procuring them the thick paints they coated their hands with before starting, so that their paths will be marked; easy to follow for both them and the bard himself, if any of them would ever need assistance. 

He’s been running for only a handful of seconds when the light blue glow of a portal catches his eye: he smacks his hands to the side of the tree that marks his change in direction, leaving behind a much thicker mark, and jumps into the portal.

“Light blue portal, I’m in … catacombs, I think.” He says, focusing on his newly acquired magical earring in order to broadcast the information to the rest of his team. A series of loud whoops answer him, bringing a satisfied grin to his face, and he slows down for a moment, trying to listen for anything happening further down the chambers he’s found himself in, eyes scanning the ground for any hidden traps. 

The coast seems to be clear - there’s a faint whispering coming from the portal behind him, the familiar gentle hum of conjuration magic, but he’s fairly certain that he’s the only living thing in there. 

Which in hindsight was exactly the point, he realises a moment later as he enters a dimly lit room, when an arrow sails just a couple of inches past his face - he flinches away from the blow purely by instincts, letting out a high pitched yelp while his hands raise upwards, brain suddenly put on alert and already thinking about what to do. 

The situation isn’t hard to comprehend: there are half a dozen skeletons, armed, slowly inching their way towards him; a handful are standing right in front of the only other existing exit, as if guarding it - probably commanded to do so, since from his own personal experience skeletons are rarely smart enough to “stand guard”. 

He is almost certain that there are no other paths he could have taken, so his only way is forward, hopefully towards something valuable. Of course that is, if he manages to get through. 

The first thing Fundy realises is that there are a bit too many enemies to comfortably take on. For a moment he truly considers simply dropping a fireball straight into the middle of the room - quick, easy, efficient - but a part of him knows that it would be a bit of a waste of energies for so little enemies, and he does expect to meet plenty more enemies very soon. Despite the fact that time is of the essence, he can’t help but remember how bets in favour of Wilbur’s team had skyrocketed after their stellar performance in the arena a handful of weeks prior. And well, a conman has to know how to put on a show, doesn’t he?

“Hello gentlemen! Would you be so kind to form an orderly cue in front of me?” He’s quick to step to the side, away from another incoming arrow from one of the two skeletons posted in front of his objective, but thankfully the rest of the skeletons are quick to follow his request as they stumble forward, moving towards him and brandishing their swords. 

One of them, apparently more eager than the others, launches themselves at him, their shortsword raised high and coming down in a swift swoop that crashes against a - hastily created - light purple magical barrier. Fundy tsks at the skeleton, shaking his head disapprovingly behind the hand he had to raise to form the arcane shield. With a quick look he assures himself of the optimal placement of his enemies, then he brings his hands together in front of him, rubbing his palms together quickly as if smearing something on them; an instant later he snaps the thumb and index finger of his right hand together, close to the wrist of his left hand: flames burst from his hands, catching fire as if he’d clicked together a flint and steel over warm coal, and he brings his wrists together, directing the stream of arcane fire towards the four skeletons still stumbling towards him.

With a flash of warm light and a chilling screech, the skeletons catch fire and burn, the necromantic binds keeping them whole snapping and breaking, charred bones falling to the ground in sad heaps.

The two skeletons still standing by the exit door let out a pitiful whine, arms clanking together as they nock their arrows - one falls to the ground a couple of feet ahead of him, the skeleton that shot it starting to look as frantic as an expressionless undead can, while the other manages to catch him off-guard and pierces his left shoulder, tearing a pained yelp and a curse from him. 

And well, with most of his enemies gone, he can now get his hands a bit dirtier, metaphorically speaking, as he unsheathes the rapier Niki had gifted to him more than five years before, keeping his unoccupied and still somewhat smouldering hand close to the blade. As his thumb runs over the cold metal, it catches fire, green flames licking at the hilt as he runs forward, impaling one of the two skeletons: flames burst from the blade, almost completely enveloping his enemy, the old and dry bones quickly catching fire as if they were matches. When he flicks his wrist, turning the blade on itself, there’s another burst of flames coming from the hilt itself as a bolt of emerald green fire flies towards the other skeleton, hitting their side. 

The only remaining skeleton raises their bow, trying to aim at him, but Fundy simply steps forward, into their personal space, hearing the arrow being let loose behind him and flying into a stone wall. 

He grins, knowing his fangs poking their way over his lips make him look more menacing, and sheaths his sword into the skeleton’s chest, cutting away the arcane ties keeping them from dying, fire burning around them both - he releases the excess arcane energy with another bolt of green fire that burns a circular charred mark into the wall to his left.

For a moment, it’s all silent around him as he takes a small relieved breath, ever so thankful of Niki’s insistence of getting him to train with his sword. 

Then, Tubbo’s voice rings in his hears, calling out a new portal he’d just found - a locked one, tinted red. 

Fundy gives a vocal confirmation of having received the message, then puts away his sword - flames dissipating on their own - and quickly makes his way towards the still closed door.

Plenty of things to do, enemies to kill, amulets to find. 

He can take a break when their time in the labyrinth runs out. 

[arse-crack-thistle]

a firstprince meet-cute

the heroes of olympus au

in which the roman son of apollo meets the greek son of themis

Henry—the quiet son of Apollo and Centurion of the 3rd cohort—leads a team of five demigods through the Long Island woods. Their task: spy on the Greeks and bring information back to Octavian. The golden-haired boy wishes he could’ve refused, but anyone who goes against the Pontifex Maximus gets severely punished and he will not let any harm come to his legionaries. Not again.

The group weaves through the trees, dodging the sight of any patrols. Henry has no idea how he’ll get close enough to hear anything, but he might be able to interpret some battle strategy from the Greek’s night preparations. As his fellow soldiers fan out beside him, Henry inches up the hill. He’d say a prayer to his father if he thought it would help, but he doesn’t. After many unanswered prayers about his sexuality, about his rather fucked up influential family, he doesn’t bother with Apollo anymore.

Henry gestures for his right-hand man—Pez, son of Mercury and the only one who actually knows he’s gay—to peer over the hill with him; the others stay back, keeping watch. The Centurion readies an arrow just in case, while Pez has his hand on the hilt of his blade, and they watch Greek demigods reinforce their buildings, sharpen their weapons, and prepare medical tents. None of them are practicing formations, which doesn’t help Henry or Octavian at all. He has to come back with something, so he puts the arrow away and crawls forward.

This could be really stupid, but he has to try—not for Octavian but for New Rome. It’s the only place that’s felt like home to him. Back in England, there’s his grandmother, the CEO of an underwhelming home goods empire. The stuff is cheap, but they’re still the number one seller back home. His mother and brother have a part in it. His sister ran off a few years back, and he has no idea where she is or if she’s even alive. His father—or rather ex-step-father—hasn’t wanted much to do with him since about three years ago when he found out Henry’s mother had an affair at a music festival fourteen years before.

They had a scandalous divorce, covered by every major news outlet, and Henry found out his true identity when a handsome demigod knocked on his door and told him he was in danger and had to be take to California. Several monsters, a few thousand miles, and a few months with a wolf goddess later, he found himself at Camp Jupiter. Everything that happened to him up until then—the blurry images of creatures at the corner of his eyes every time he turned a corner, the dyslexia that made his passion for writing frustrating, the way he never really fit in with his family—finally made sense. He was a demigod! And when the sign of Apollo appeared over his head after he made his first bullseye at the archery range, he truly felt like he found where he belonged.

Pez whispers for him to come back, but Henry lifts a hand in warning. Just then, someone—a dryad probably—screams an alert to his enemy, and all Underworld breaks loose. His legionaries get in formation behind him, readying themselves for the Greeks. They were taught never to run from a fight, but Henry can’t allow this to happen. He’s been in enough battles to know when he can win and when he can’t. Eventually, they’ll be outnumbered because Octavian won’t send him reinforcements if he can help it. He doesn’t know how violent the Greeks will be, but if they willingly fired on New Rome when their defenses were down, then he can’t take the risk. And he won’t repeat what happened in the Titan war.

Henry orders his soldiers back, telling Pez to take temporary control of the cohort and share the minimal information they gathered with the Pontifex. If they’re to be any casualties tonight, it will only be Henry and the Greeks he can take down with him.

•••

The last thing Alex—the wise-ass son of Themis—wants to do in the middle of the night is go to a counsel meeting at the Big House. He wipes the sleep from his eyes as he walks up the creaky steps. Inside, Chiron and the other counsellors gather around a table. It’s times like this he wishes it was a year ago when the children of minor gods were left out of meetings and decision-making. But as soon as he slaps himself awake, he regains his undying need to get involved and raise hell—fair and just hell, of course.

He sits down next to Nora, the temporary head counsellor of the Athena cabin. She’s bouncing in her seat—no doubt high on caffeine and nectar and ready to get back to developing war strategy. She gives him a wink and taps her fingers like she’s back home typing on a computer. Chiron clears his throat and tells the demigods of a Roman scout team that was spotted an hour ago. Unfortunately, most of the soldiers got away, but they did manage to capture one. He’s being held in one of the Big House’s guest rooms.

Now it’s Alex’s turn to bounce. He’s been waiting for an opportunity like this. A prisoner of war means they’ll need to get information. There will need to be a lawyer present—or a lawyer in training that is. He can preside over the questioning, be the voice of justice, and maybe even get the Roman to see the right side is his. He can picture it now: Camp Half-Blood safe from the Romans and that dude reformed in his ways, joining them to stop Gaia. Yes, this is his chance to step out of his sister’s shadow.

He volunteers to mediate for whoever is charged with the interview. Alex ignores Chiron’s obvious hesitation; just because he can get a little heated—thank gods Leo isn’t here cracking a dumb pun joke at that, which would inevitably leave them both laughing on the floor—doesn’t mean he can’t be objective. So he hates the Romans’ guts and thinks they should go back to their stuck-up little camp, so what? Once he’s in the real world, going to college, running for congress like his father, he’ll have to deal with a shit-ton of people he doesn’t like. Looking at you, Bitch McConnell.

Just as Chiron decides he, Nora, Will Solace, and reluctantly Alex will talk to the Roman boy, a camper from the Aphrodite cabin bursts through the door and tells him one of the Hephaestus girls accidentally blew up a boy from the Ares cabin. Apparently, armor strapped with projectile explosives wasn’t the best idea. So Chiron declares they will talk to their guest in the morning, and in the meantime, they’ll take shifts in pairs guarding him. Alex raises his hand to get the first watch, but Chiron appoints Drew Tanaka and Connor Stoll. They both roll their eyes at the idea of being stuck together for the next few hours. Alex’s chest deflates.

Ever since his sister left—he and June are some of the rare demigods that have the same mortal and immortal parentage without being twins—the responsibility of the Themis cabin has fallen on his shoulders. He wanted it, of course, but his siblings also elected him to the head counsellor position, thinking he’d follow in June’s footsteps: ruling with truth, justice, and wisdom. Just like their mother.

Back in his cabin, Alex stares at the marble statue of her that presides over her children. Her iconic image—blindfolded, holding a sword in one hand and balancing a scale in the other—reminds him he’s definitely no June.

She was a leader of quests; Alex has never been on one. June was the voice of reason at counsel meetings; he struggles just to sit still, let alone calm a room with one enlightening sentence. When the children of minor gods were finally given their own cabins, there was no question who should run theirs. Now, he hears his siblings whisper whether they should hold another election. Gods, you call out your conservative brothers one time—it was way more than once—and suddenly, you’re imposing your opinion on everyone.

That’s not it though. Alex has never been given a chance to step up. No matter how many times he tries to convince the counsel they should establish a court system at camp—nothing settles an argument like a nice, fair trial—he always gets shot down.

Not anymore. He’s not going to sit back this time. Not when the threat to camp is this great. He’ll get what he needs from that Roman. If June were here, she would’ve been trusted to go ahead without Chiron, so Alex will do the same.

•••

Henry wakes up to angry whispers outside of his door. The twelve Greeks overtook him easily, but he did put up a good fight. At least, he did until he was knocked unconscious. On the table beside his bed, a note sits atop a plate of food.

Eat well. Hydrate. Rest. We’ll speak with you soon. -Chiron

A glass of juice spiked with nectar sits next to the plate. Why would those imbecilic Greeks give him what’s essentially strengthening serum? He intakes his surroundings: a bed, a table, a dresser, and a chair. Window to the left. Only door out to the right. There’s a clean set of clothes at the end of the bed, but Henry would rather go to Tartarus and back than put on another camp’s shirt.

He jimmies the window, but it’s locked and to hard to break. He lightly tries the doorknob, but it’s locked as well. By the sounds of it, three maybe four people argue outside his door. Romans never had this much trouble changing guard shifts. Henry fiddles about the room, looking for anything to 1. unlock the door and 2. use as a weapon. He can handle four Greeks, and he’ll do everything in his power to get back to his cohort.

Henry hears the click of the door unlocking. Gods, they’re thick, aren’t they? He grabs the wooden chair, and as the door swings open, he thwacks the person walking in with it. Just as he suspected, the chair breaks, and he uses one piece to press against the throat of the careless demigod he’s pinned to the floor.

The boy beneath him groans. He’s got light brown skin and dark curly hair, and if Henry weren’t about to kill him, he’d think he was quite cute.

“Gods, can you Greeks do anything with finesse? Even your hero, Percy Jackson, as talented as he may be, flies by the seed of his trousers.” Henry grits his teeth.

“Ha!” the boy coughs out. “Jumping to conclusions, are we? I thought you guys were supposed to be strictly trained soldiers. You miscalculated.”

He points behind him, and when Henry looks up, a girl stands battle-ready with a sword in her hand. The distraction is enough for the boy below to wrap his legs around Henry and flip them. The Greek holds a dagger to his neck.

“Listen here, pretty boy, are we going to talk or am I going to go all American Revolution on your British-ass?” He presses the dagger, and Henry yelps.

The boy’s brown eyes peer into Henry’s, and some strange part of him likes it. The Greek looks about his age and, while clearly not as capable as he, definitely has some fight in him.

“I’d like to see you try, graecus. But be forewarned, if you send me to the Underworld, I’ll drag you and your camp down with me.” He keeps his face plain and uncaring, though he can feel the heat in his cheeks. Apollo help him.

The girl interrupts them to remind her partner what they’re here to do. She sheaths her sword and closes the door.

He’s called Alex. Henry swallows. And they need information.

Alex releases him. The two get up off the ground. No one moves to sit or get more comfortable. The boys just stare at each other, long and cold.

Henry can tell this guy is a complete and total arse, and yet he can’t shake the swirling feeling in his stomach. A memory from a quest eighteen months ago flashes in his mind. In Vegas, a priest of Venus dressed like Elvis told him great tragedy would befall his love life, but with the goddess’s blessing, he’d find happiness again.

He already lost someone. The demigod who found him, Daniel, son of Ceres, his sponsor when he joined the camp, his Centurion. Everything was quiet between them—few words needed for mutual understanding. Daniel brought him fresh lavender; Henry played him a tune on the lute. But then the Titan war came. And Daniel disobeyed the Praetors’ orders to save the boy he loved. Henry barely had time to grieve before he took control of the 3rd cohort and lost four other demigods in the process. Not a day goes by when he doesn’t think of the five who died because of him. Because of love.

No. This feeling he has is the desire to beat the Greeks, nothing more. He doesn’t give a damn about happiness in love or this obnoxiously hot demigod before him. Like even as Alex breaks eye contact first, puts his sheathed dagger in his boot, ruffles his hair, puts his hands on his hips, and sighs, Henry feels nothing. Elvis can go fuck himself.

“So,” Alex says, “what do you have planned, and how can we convince you to stop? We’d really like to prevent another demigod civil war.”

Henry laughs, and even though nothing would make him happier than to stop fighting, to rest as Chiron suggested, he tells Alex, “You’re really a dickhead if you think I’m giving you anything.”

•••

“It was an accident!”

“You expect me to believe with our two camps in a centuries-long feud that the one time we let down our defenses, your lot just attacked us on accident? Right, and I suppose Pluto is actually a sweet guy once you get to know him, too?”

“My buddy Leo was being controlled by Gaia!”

“Your mate Leo should come up with a better lie.”

“You’re impossible!” Gods, Alex really hates this guy. “Nora, can’t we just—”

She shakes her head before he can finish. He’s not really sure what he was going to say. Have Drew come back and charmspeak him? Feed him to the harpies? Pin him down again? Wait—what?

“Listen, dude. We’re really on the same side here. Right now, both Greeks and Romans demigods—our friends—are fighting against a greater threat than the world has seen since the beginning of time. That’s got to count for something,” he says.

The Roman is quiet. Alex hates how he looks like a goddamn prince even after a fight. But maybe he got through to him. After all, it is true. For all the shit he talks about Romans, he knows they’re not bad, just different. They actually have more in common than they’d like to acknowledge. Jason Grace taught him that. If there was ever a Roman WASP he could get behind, it’s Jason.

So Alex tries a different approach. He gestures to the bed. “You want to?” The blond boy stiffens, and Alex clarifies, “Sit?”

“How about we start over?” He sits. Nora takes the opportunity to march to the other side and bellyflops onto the bed. “I’m Alex, son of Themis, the goddess of justice. And you are?”

He watches the Roman look from the undefended door to Alex and back again.

“You could run,” Alex says. “But then we’d have no chance to broker peace. Hera thought she could do it by trading heroes, but I think you and I both know it takes more than one person to heal two armies.”

Power swells in his chest. Alex can’t know for sure, but maybe his mother is looking out for him. This is how he can bring the demigods justice for Gaia’s destruction. June would be the better choice, but Alex is here and he has to try.

“Let’s work together. Or at least, get along long enough for the prophesized seven to come back home,” he says.

The Roman hesitates. Alex can see in his light blue eyes the number of strategies racing through his mind. But ultimately, he decides to sit. Nora snores next to them. Five a.m. and a caffeine/nectar crash will do that to you.

“So your name?” Alex asks. “It’s only fair.” Dumb pun but he winks.

The boy coughs, but then he looks into Alex’s eyes. “I’m—er—Henry, son of Apollo, Centurion of the 3rd cohort.”

so this is a little late but we’re just going to ignore that...

i just finished reading toa a couple of weeks ago, and i can’t stop thinking about it!! so when i saw the meet-cute prompt, i couldn’t resist a percy jackson-ish fic! i hope you enjoyed this little short piece. <3

rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests

[de-profundis-ad-astra]

Fury, Oh Fury - Part 2

Rating || M (Strong language) Characters || Ben Miller, William Miller. Word Count || 5.1k Taglist || (Starting out tagging some mutuals and people I remember from the previous taglist)  @firefeatherx​ @mylifeliterally​ @mandoplease​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @skylyknightly​ @havenforafrazzledmind​ @beatriz-silva-00​ @veuliee​ @veuliee2​ @oldstuffnewstuff​ @dindisneydjarin​ @lilacyennefer​ @dignityneeded​ @agirllovespancakes​​ @xjustmenobodyelse​​ @oscarflysaac @jaime1110​​ @goldenhour-goldenboy​​ @pascalz​​ @briskywalker​​ @herestherealproblem​​ @givemethatgold​​

Author’s Note || No matter how hard I try to keep this project on a backburner, it keeps kicking and screaming to be told. I had most of part 3 written before I put this fic on hiatus, and I’m hoping to have it written before the end of the year. I just need to get through this week and then schools have two weeks off for the holidays. I’m hoping to carve out some time for writing, then.

District Two’s training academy hides behind the façade of a retired school house.

Upon its decommissioning almost thirty years ago, district leadership descended upon the ramshackle building—and thus began its transformation. Training for the Hunger Games is not condoned by the Capitol. But what they don’t know won’t hurt them. While the exterior of the campus remains dilapidated and unassuming, playing every bit the part of a forgotten relic of a bygone era, its interior has its own story to tell.

Old equipment was cleared out. Tables in the lunchroom replaced with rows of sparring rings. The courtyard converted into a range for archery, javelins, throwing knives, and various ranged weaponry. The sagging, cracked walls refurbished and belied with the latest survival equipment and handheld weapons.

Children who display a prowess for fighting—and more importantly, a potential for victory in the Hunger Games—are selected to attend this academy. Training begins at age eleven, and continues until age seventeen, when one is selected to volunteer at the next reaping. These future tributes are up before dawn and smuggled into the academy before the first shift of Peacekeepers hit the streets, and are not let out until late—most days not until after the sun sets.

But the most notable feature of District Two’s training academy is not its staggering array of swords, daggers, maces, spears, every kind of armament under the sun. It’s not the skill with which District Two’s future tributes can wield these weapons. It’s not the way these future tributes can fire an arrow with devastating accuracy by age fourteen. It’s not the cleanliness of what appears to be a retired, collapsing school. No. It’s none of these things.

The standout feature of the academy is the first thing most people see upon entering the building. In the antechamber of the academy are three words emblazoned on the back wall, above the district’s crest.

Honor. Duty. Victory.

And this is the academy’s most notable feature. Painted and upkept with more care than several entire districts see.

It started out—in the early days of the academy—as an unofficial mantra of those who passed through. As time passed, and the academy produced more and more victors, these attributes were prescribed to every tribute.

Honor. Even being selected train, even if it did not guarantee participation in the Games, was considered the highest form of flattery a child in District Two could receive. Second only to being permitted the option to volunteer.

Duty. Once selected as a future volunteer for the Games, it was a job treated with upmost care and respect.

Victory.

Well. That part seems self-explanatory.

--

Future tributes from District Two weren’t exempt from training. Not even on reaping day.

Yes, the day was shortened to make sure everyone was present for the event, but the morning was still packed full of running, exercising, sparring, and survival lessons.

Ben had seen plenty of footage from the outer districts of how this day was observed there. It was a quiet, somber affair—the reaped tributes treated already as corpses at a wake. Families and friends shut themselves in, closed their doors and their blinds, held each other, and prayed that, however their loved one died, it was as swift and painless as the Capitol would allow.

But this was the Hunger Games. A hope for such things is, at best, a feeble one.

In District Two, the air buzzes with energy. Something pure and raw and not quite human. Of course, the knowledge of who will be any given year’s volunteers is kept under lock and key, so bets are placed, wagers made, on who they think will go into the arena based on appearances alone. Those who are selected to offer up their lives try to keep from puffing their chests a little too much, those who did not make the cut hide their disappointment behind polite smiles and kind words.

When the tributes are shipped off their families open their doors to friends and neighbors, who offer up gifts and well wishes. Parties are held for every event possible: the tribute parade, interviews, the start of the Games, and then then it simply did not stop until a victor was crowned or, in the worst case, the tributes were killed.

Then, and only then, did families shut their doors and their blinds, the shame of their tributes failing to bring home another victory outweighing their grief for the loss of a child.

At least that was what they said.

--

Of course, District Two cannot have an eighteen-year-old volunteer step forward at every reaping. To allow that would be to bring down the might of the Capitol if they ever caught on. District Two has worked hard to earn the favor of the president. They’re not about to risk, especially not something as high profile as the Hunger Games.

Some years, a fourteen or fifteen-year-old is selected, some years no one is selected, and the odds dictate who will be traveling to the Capitol that year.

After all, it’s may the odds be ever in your favor, right?

To find out that a district had taken the odds into their own hands, become masters of their own fate. If word of that got out about that… well. It certainly would not be a civil affair.

It was certainly an interesting thing to be said of a nation built upon that exact principle. The Capitol founded itself on this exact principle—built themselves from the ground up because they dared to carve their own path, even if that meant stepping on others. Who was to say they didn’t rig the reapings, anyway?

So for District Two to return the favor would be a horrific slap in the face.

If they ever got caught.

--

“NICE JOB, MILLER! If you go any slower through the next obstacle course maybe I can retire with my pension by the time you’re through!” Ben’s trainer, Alistair, screams in his face.

Ben keeps silent, his face blank and indifferent, his eyes straight ahead. He’s not looking at Alistair. He’s looking through him. Who knew tuning out Will’s lectures about training would prepare him so well for taking his trainer’s abuse?

“Go through it again!” Alistair snarls, and Ben peels back to the start of the obstacle course, hearing him scream “FASTER! I will stick my foot down your throat ‘til your shit’s on my shoe if you don’t hustle, Miller!”

Ben throws himself onto the rope net. He climbs.

Ben catches the rest of his team when he reaches the top of the rope wall. Alistair has them all doing pushups until he finishes the obstacle course, and Ben throws himself down the other side of the wall, gritting his teeth. He makes it through the course faster this time, and Alistair lets the others up. He trots them to the next course.

After the obstacle courses, it’s close quarters combat training with the squad of sixteens. Ben is convinced they’ve set it up this way just to show them how it feels to lose—to use that motivation to throw themselves into a fight willing to do whatever it takes to win. This is the Hunger Games, after all, it’s all about how ruthless you can be.

Ben looks forward to sparring drills the most. From the moment he set foot in the academy two years ago, he’d proved himself fast, faster than most others, even those much older than him. The trainers had capitalized on that. Now, at age fourteen, he can mop the floor with any squad except the eighteens.

Ben makes friends with another boy in his group named Ramsey. They share a brand of indifferent camaraderie usually reserved for teammates that only get along in the field. Ben’s had to swallow so much pride over the past six months alone following Will’s victory that he’s surprised he hasn’t choked to death. Ramsey’s strength is with a strange sort of sword-spear hybrid the trainers call a yklwa.

In close quarters combat, he’s a whirlwind, the weapon a mere extension of his hand. He takes down whoever steps into his path while hardly breaking a sweat. God helps whoever tries to run from him with the yklwa in his hand.

Ramsey says he’s named his yklwa Carmen. After a recruit in the fifteens he’s hoping to get together with.                                                

--

Will takes up woodworking after his Games. His home in the Victor’s Village is covered in them. He starts small—bowls and cutting boards at first are rough to the touch. As he hones in on this newfound hobby, his hand grows steady, smooth, until he’s crafting shelves with intricate details carved into the side panels, whittling animals with striking detail that seem to stand guard in their respective rooms. A particularly haunting interpretation of the cougar mutts he faced in the arena adorn the shelf above his fireplace.

It’s not until after he returns from his victory tour that Ben asks Will to train him. It’s over dinner, one of the evenings their father works late. Will brings home stew and a loaf of bread filled with seeds from the market that they eat on the floor before the roaring hearth. They tear off chunks of the bread and dunk them into the rich, savory broth.

“Why?” Will asks simply. He doesn’t look at Ben. He looks straight ahead at the fire, the dancing flames casting dozens of patterns of shadow and light across his face each second.

Ben pulls his legs up towards his chest, Will’s lack of enthusiasm making him regret bringing it up in the first place. “’Cause…” he says, unsure how to say it without provoking his brother to anger. “The headmaster at the academy keeps tellin’ me that if I keep it up, I’ll be able to volunteer in a few years. I want… to be ready.”

“You don’t get enough training there?”

Ben folds his arms on top of his knees and hides his mouth and nose in the crook of his elbow. “If you teach me, I’ll be even better—I’ll be able to win,” he mumbles into his sleeve.

Will’s eyes drift away from the fire, a muscle in his jaw feathering as his mouth tightens into a thin line. He sighs, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Okay,” he says at last.

Ben, sensing the hesitation, backpedals, “You don’t have to.”

“No. I want to.” Will gathers up the remains of their meal and carries them into the kitchen. “If they’re going to ask you to volunteer like you think they will—I want to make sure you’re ready. I want you to come home.”

Ben doesn’t follow him into the kitchen, the weight settling in his chest too heavy to move. He just wants to be as good as Will was, he thinks. He wants to bring pride to District Two like Will did.

When he looks through the doorway into the kitchen, Will stares out the window, at something only he can see.

The next week, Will starts carving weapons.

--

The sword is merely an extension of Will’s arm when he knocks Ben on his ass for the fifth time and levels the dull point of the blade with his throat.

They’ve cleared out one of the (many) spare rooms of Will’s home and repurposed it as a sparring ring. Ben and his father were extended an offer by Will to live with him in the home. Due to the nature of their father’s work, he elected to remain in their house inside the district. Ben bounces between the two, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t prefer Will’s house to their father’s.

Ben’s tailbone groans as he slides over the carpet away from Will’s sword. He’s fashioned it almost exactly after his weapon from the arena, every detail down to the carvings on the hilt crafted with extreme accuracy from memory.

“You’re stuck in the moment,” Will advises, flipping the sword around and pressing the tip into the ground between and slightly in front of his feet. He leans into it, the wood barely creaking against his weight. “You gotta anticipate, Benny.”

Ben groans, “It’s hard to anticipate when I’m too focused on not getting my hand cut off.”

He’s forgone a weapon during this session, choosing to focus instead on how to disarm an opponent. If he faces another tribute with a weapon, if he can get it out of their hands, he will earn the upper hand and put the odds in his favor.

Maybe it’s a trait that came from the arena, but Will seems so much more in his element here. He’s relaxed, lines no longer weathering his crushingly young face. His movements smooth, steady, his reactions unlike anything Ben had ever seen before.

How can he hope to go up against anything like that in the arena?

“Come on,” Will’s voice softens when he extends his hand. “Let’s try again.”

--

Ben keeps his focus on his own rhythmic, controlled breathing, sucking air into his lungs and letting it out in a smooth, measured pattern as his feet pound into the concrete of the track. He ignores the soreness in his legs, the tightness in his chest, his thighs begging him to stop and his lungs pleading for more. He ignores the others in his squad running in stride with him, focusing only on keeping the pace. He tunes out the pain, the people around him, and the world around him.

It’s just him and the road.

“Hey, Ben,” Ramsey’s raspy voice huffs next to him.

Ben stays silent, his blue eyes fixed downwards at the patch of the track he would job over five seconds from now. He breathes a slightly deeper breath than before, his concentration irked by Ramsey’s attempt to get his attention.

“Ben!” Ramsey snaps.

Ben closes his eyes, actively putting all of his effort into focusing on the task at hand. He centers his mind on the impact of his shoes against the concrete and his own deep breathing that makes a whooshing sound in his ears. He might fall behind or run out of breath, and if Alistair catches them talking, they’re in for all sorts of hell.

“I’m talking to you, dickhead!” Ramsey hisses, pausing between breaths.

Ben remains nonresponsive. Whatever it was, it could wait until—

A flash of pain sears across Ben’s backside, Ramsey’s hand smacking against his ass as hard as he can manage. Ben fumbles on a step with a yap of shock and hurt. He sucks down a massive amount of air and losing all semblance of pace he had with the others, only to receive a grunt of “Move!” and a shove forward from the boy behind him. Ben sprints ahead to get back into place, his face hot with embarrassment as he clenches his teeth and tries to regulate his breathing.

“Jackass!” he snarls at Ramsay, who cocks a playful grin and breathes through his mouth.

“You know better than to neglect me,” Ramsey pants, keeping up the pace. “I refuse to be ignored.”

“You’ve got a dick punch headed you way for that,” Ben croaks, his ass still aching as he tries to keep running the last half-kilometer.

“Whatever,” Ramsey replies with the vaguest shake of his head. “Anyway, did you do the homework last night?”

Homework is a rather loose term, but they were occasionally tasked with assignments to complete at home. These assignments ranged from practicing an advanced hand to hand combat maneuver, building a snare designed to catch a rabbit, or successfully waterproofing matches. The particular assignment Ramsey referred to had to do with reading about how to identify poisonous plants.

“Kinda late to be asking about that now, don’t you think?” Ben pants.

“That’s why you’re my friend,” Ramsey explains, “When my girlfriend keeps me out too late to do work, you bail me out.”

Ben grunts and cuts a glare at Ramsey that would have burned holes through almost anyone else.

“I know you’re jealous that she gets all my attention, Benny—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Besides, we can’t all be dating some carefree, rich daughter of the mayor that loves to spend all your money.”

Before Ben can respond, a harsh voice calls, “Kick it in! Last hundred meters!”

Ramsey and Ben begin to suck in deep gulps of air along with the rest of their team, holding all of the oxygen they can and sprinting down the last section of track in a final burst of speed. They lean forward and tear down the concrete, ignoring the lightheadedness and the dull throbbing of their leg muscles as they pump their arms and struggle to stay in formation, the soles of their shoes pounding against the surface of the track.

The burning in Ben’s chest and stomach intensifies, the tightness of his body worsening as the end comes into sight.

“You better get across the finish line before I say times up or I’m gonna shove my foot up each and every one of your asses!” the voice roars.

Ben, Ramsey, and the rest of the squad picks up the pace, stomping their feet into the concrete and rushing across the finish line as a group, the last one just barely crossing before the voice cries, “Time’s up!”

The squad trots to a stop, and begins stretching against the wall of the indoor track, lined up single file in order to get out of the way of anyone else using the track.

“So, listen,” Ramsey whispers. “Back on topic: what was the homework from last night?”

“I thought you needed to copy it,” mutters Ben.

“Well, yeah. But I have to know what it is, first!”

“It was just reading,” sighs Ben. “Identifying poisonous versus edible plants.”

“Do you think they’re going to quiz us on it?”

Ben shrugged, indifferent.

“Quiz you on what, Miller?” a harsh voice behind them asked.

Ben and Ramsey cringe and do an about-face, knowing what they would see when they turned around.

Even though Ben had reached an impressive physical height for fourteen, Alistair still holds a few inches over him. He and Ramsey stand tall, staring straight forward as Alistair comes up to them with an acid frown on his face.

“Listen up!” Alistair roars. “Miller here thinks that just because his big brother’s a victor of the Games, that entitles him to a free ride around here! And Ramsey here is so in love with Miller that he can’t keep his hands off his ass! Both of them have disrespected you and me! They had the chance to do this because you aren’t motivating them enough! Therefore, I am going to punish all of you for what one of them has done! The rest of you will run while these two spar in the ring. If Miller wins, He’ll watch the rest of you do a switch run for a half an hour! If Ramsey wins, he’ll watch while the rest of you do a switch run for half an hour! Understand? Go!”

Ben and Ramsey both receive murderous glares from the eight remaining members of their squad as they take off down the track, once more in formation.

“Do I personally have to shin-kick the both of you to get you moving?” Alistair barks.

Ben and Ramsey walk past Alistair, staring at the ground, across the track and into the center field, in which was a platform boxing ring with holographic boundary lines on all four sides. Protective gear and gloves rest against the sides of the platform. Ben and Ramsey unzip the jackets of their track suits, underneath which they both wear plain white tee shirts, and slip a pair of gloves over their hands and headgear over their ears.

“Let’s go!” Alistair barks. “Your fellow cadets are paying for every second you waste!”

“Damn it, Ramsey,” whispers Ben. “I knew this would happen.”

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Ramsey asks incredulously as they walk up the stairs. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Ben snaps as they pass through the holographic boundary lines, traveling to the center of the ring and facing each other. “We’re in this situation because you refuse to be ignored!”

“Well then maybe you shouldn’t ignore me all the time, I might say something you need to hear,” Ramsey responds icily.

“Like what?”

“Like, maybe if you pull that stick out of your ass, you might learn to have some fun, instead of just being an asshole most of the time,” Ramsey shrugs, putting up his fists.

“Well, according to you, Ramsey, everyone’s got a stick up their ass, so maybe you’re the one with the problem,” Ben comes back coolly.

“Oh, for fucks sake…” Ramsey growls, taking a swing at Ben’s head.

Ben bends backwards, avoiding the punch, then steps forward and jabs at Ramsey’s side. He lets out a gasp of shock, then nails Ben in his cheek with another quick swing.

Ben stumbles backwards, a dull stinging igniting in his face, though his headgear had absorbed most of it.

“Do you always have to be so goddamn responsible all the time?!” Ramsey snarls. “You always have to be right and you always have to have everything follow your rules!”

Ramsey steps towards Ben to deliver another blow, only to have Ben sidestep around and slug him in the stomach once again. Ramsey clenches his stomach, looking up as Ben knocks him in the forehead with a hard right hook.

Ramsey flies backwards, falling on his ass, stunned.

“You’re not responsible at all! How do you expect to live up to anything that your family wants for you if all you do is fuck off?!” Ben barks.

Ramsey looks up at Ben, getting to his feet. Ben stands at the ready, his fists up to protect his face. Ramsey swiftly strikes at Ben’s face, a hit that is blocked but still distracts him enough for Ramsey to drive his other fist into his stomach. The wind flies out of Ben’s lungs as Ramsey delivers an uppercut to his bottom jaw, whiplashing his neck and throwing him back.

“I don’t worry about it!” Ramsey spits. “You could stand to do the same. You worry about things that aren’t in your control. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the one preoccupied with my family here!”

Ben grits his teeth through the intense stinging in his jaw and neck, his anger fueling his rise to his feet. He leaps forward and strikes one, two, three times at Ramsey’s head, punching into a block each time but not caring. He steps back just in time to avoid another shot at his face from Ramsey, then back forward to hit the other boy in his upper chest.

“You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about!” Ben yells, punching again and again at Ramsey’s defenses, driving him further back. “You don’t know what I’ve been through and you don’t know what I’ve got to deal with.”

Ramsey grumbles and shoves upward into Ben’s elbows, pushing his arms up and pulling his left fist back. Before Ben can bring up a block again, Ramsey’s fist smashes into Ben’s jaw, twisting his head to the side as Ramsey’s right fist punches into Ben’s shoulder.

The dull throbbing pain in his face and the taste of blood in his mouth make the fall backwards almost unnoticeable, until the reverse polarity field at the boundaries of the ring throw him back into the center. Ben stumbles forward and landed on his knees.

“You’ve got to deal with living up to someone, Ben. I know how it feels,” Ramsey sympathizes, not attacking. “But you can’t torture yourself over things you can’t change and how you think someone would judge what you’re doing. You’re not and you can’t be just like Will!”

Ben glares up at Ramsey, lashing out with his leg and sweeping Ramsey’s legs out from under him. Ramsey falls onto his back with a rough thud and Ben leaps across the floor on all fours as Ramsey tries to get up. He puts Ramsey into a chokehold, compressing his neck in the crook of his arm, causing Ramsey to gasp out in panic.

“Well what choice do I have?!” Ben hisses into Ramsey’s ear.

Ramsey gags, and then taps the floor.

Ben releases his friend and stands to his feet as Ramsey collapses to the floor of the ring, coughing. Ben breathes hard, looking down at him, and extends a hand. Ramsey takes Ben’s hand and he helps him, still breathing raggedly. As Ramsey massages his neck and looks at Ben with a mix of pity and disappointment, Ben noticed Alistair standing at the edge of the ring. He disengages the polarity field and steps into the ring silently, the holographic borders flickering off.

Ramsey doesn’t wait for Alistair to say anything. He gives a sloppy, two-fingered salute, then takes off running down the stairs of the ring to join the rest of the squad.

Ben wishes he could feel more pride at his victory when Alistair turns to him.

“Best get going, son,” says Alistair, quieter than usual. “Reaping is in a few hours.”

Ben just nods numbly and exits the ring.

--

The last time Ben found himself standing in a roped off section of the square was eleven months ago, holding his breath as Will was declared the victor of the Fifty-fourth Hunger Games.

Now he stands in a clump of other fourteen-year-old boys, the space tight and claustrophobic as they await the start of the reaping. It’s one thing for a district as large as Two to cram as many people as they can in the square; it’s another to do so in the height of summer. Sweat rolls down the back of Ben’s neck and into the collar of his button-up shirt.

He’s been out here longer than many of the district’s children. He arrived early with Will, who has earned a spot on the stage with Two’s other victors. His chair is front and center, almost directly between the two massive glass balls containing thousands of paper slips and to the right of the mayor’s chair.

Ben’s name is in there three times this year. The thought is a small comfort, even though the odds are entirely in his favor. His heart throws itself around his ribcage, his throat tight. He catches Will’s eye over the heads of the teenagers standing closer to the front of the crowd, and he gives Ben a short, assuring nod.

They’re not going to pick you, Will had said while getting ready that morning when he noticed the way Ben’s hands trembled for a grip on his comb. And if they do, someone will step up.

He’s right. District Two’s favored boy to volunteer this year is an eighteen-year-old named Bromius who doesn’t know how to back down from a fight.

Though he stands directly in the middle of the crowd, Ben is sure he can feel the prying eyes of spectators around him. Him, the younger brother of a victor. It’s only natural for them to wonder if he will follow in the footsteps of Will and volunteer for the Games. He’s sure more than a few wagers are being placed in his favor today.

To Ben’s right, the crowd shifts, and Ramsey shoulders his way to Ben’s side. “Hey,” he says. “How are you doing?”

Ben reigns in the urge to grimace when another bead of sweat drips down his back. “As okay as I can be.” No matter being though this twice before, no matter how much he expects having to step forward and step on that stage one day, he can’t seem to quiet the anxiety that roils in his stomach. He still watches Will, but his attention has been drawn by another victor seated behind him, a pretty girl who won seven years ago, if Ben remembers correctly. They’re both smiling. Ben’s just glad Will can still smile. A handful of Two’s victors have come home, but he’d never seen them smile again.

Ramsey claps him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Besides, you’re not going to volunteer for another two years at least. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked you to go in when you turn sixteen.”

Why is everyone so insistent that he’s going to be fine?

The thought is chased from Ben’s mind when feedback from the microphone on stage squeals through the speakers. The mayor waits for the sound to ebb before launching into the same speech he gives every year. By now, he has it memorized. Some of the boys around him quote the speech along with the mayor with dramatic voices and giggle to themselves.

As always, they are reminded of the origin of the Hunger Games, reminded of—no matter how much they may be in favor with the Capitol—they will ultimately be at their mercy by sending in their children to their prospective deaths. The only difference this year is that Will’s name has been added when the mayor reads off the list of past victors. He feels a small swell of pride at that.

District Two’s escort is introduced. Terra Evervale, a woman who’s allowed the fact that she has worked with so many victors get to her head, makes a brief statement about how much she’s looking forward to introducing the district’s next victor to the spoils of the Capitol.

Ben keeps his eyes locked on Will, who has made sparing eye contact with him through the procession. With so many cameras on him, he needs to appear alert and engaged. Now he watches Terra as she announces that this year, they will begin with the boys, and crosses the stage to one of the glass balls.

She plunges her hand deep into the ball, rummages around for a few seconds to build the anticipation. By the time she removes the single slip of paper, almost everyone in the square is holding their breath. Ben feels his fists clench, his vision blurring around the edges.

Will watches, his expression cool as Terra crosses back to the microphone. When she breaks the seal and pulls the edges of the paper apart, he has the perfect vantage point to read the name before she announces who the male tribute will be.

Will’s blue eyes go wide, his mouth falling open slightly; Ben can see his breath catch. He finds Ben in the crowd, as if he could call out a warning.

Ben reads Will’s expression, and knows with terrifying clarity whose name is on the paper.

“Benjamin Miller!”

[sanstropfremir]

ok alright alright alright kingdom episode two

kinda disappointed that they only showed half the stages, but that's just an editing thing to draw out the content so you can air for longer, i'm not super surprised about that. i would have liked to evaluate them all at the same time, but at least this gives me time to go more in depth for all of them since they're full stages this time and I wrote 3000 words for last episode when they only had 100 secs. so this format will probably keep me sane for longer, i think. 

solid stages all round for them, none had especially glaring flaws on the whole. i'm not gonna do a full ranking for this episode since we haven't seen them all, but i will say that btob’s was my favourite from this set and both ikon’s and tbz’s stages were about equal; they both had things i liked and disliked in equal measure so i'm tentatively giving them the same ranking. full opinions and analysis on each stage below the cut, plus another section of general notes because hey what the fuck did you do to that stage mnet???

and for anyone that’s wondering yes i do have the qualifications. also seriously grab a drink or something because this is LONG.

some general notes

and here i thought this section wouldn't be as big as it was last time because mnet was going to get their shit together about the stage design, but noooooooooooo they had to go and make it worse! thanks mnet i hate it! remember how i said you shot yourself in the foot last time? well ya fuckin kneecapped yourself AND all your idols with this one ya dumb fuckin idiots. alright folks welcome back to stage design 101, my recurring segment where i explain the different types of stage layouts and their effectiveness for kpop idol survival shows, i guess.

ok so last week i covered the basics on theatre in the round and traverse staging, which i’ll link here if there’s anyone new or just wants a refresher. i mentioned that its likely that mnet will switch to an in the round style staging because it offers a lot more freedom for camera movement and also for directional blocking. well, i was wrong. so i'm gonna give you a quick rundown of prosceniums. a proscenium, proscenium arch, or just prosc, is an architectural feature that sits around the front ‘opening’ of the stage that delineates the stage from the audience. if you've ever been in or seen any pictures of old european style theatres it can be quite ornately decorated with scrolling, but it's almost always there in most western theatres. it basically provides your ‘wings,’ which are where you exit off into to get offstage, they provide cover from the audience sitelines. pretty much any theatre where the audience is directly opposing the stage across the 180 degree line is a proscenium stage, even if it doesn't physically have the arch. hell, movie theatres are prosc stages. now, there's a secondary architectural feature/device called a false proscenium, where you set a second, smaller archway inside the first prosc, usually done for a specific effect. think of it like a literal framing device; it's often used to visually signify that ‘this is a play, we are telling a story, please be aware that this is a play thank you.’ but sometimes, it can be a semi-permanent structure that’s set in place to narrow the prosc opening. we had this at my university, there was a false prosc set just inside the actual prosc because the stage had a hilariously big prosc opening for a university that never had casts larger than 24 people. so they set false prosc in to make the stage slightly narrower and to widen the wings, because it doesn't matter what size theatre you're in, you always need more wingspace. makes sense? ok, now here’s a very quick drawing of what i'm pretty sure the kingdom stage looks like:

before you get lost: stage directions are oriented to a person standing on the stage, hence SL and SR being reversed. a quick tip for remembering which way is upstage and which is downstage: if you go too far downstage you fall down (most stages are raised between 2-4’ from the floor, so if you step off the end you will actually fall.) the arrows on here signify the entrances i observed during the performances, which is not necessary in this explanation but i just thought it was interesting to note. still not entirely sure what the surrounding architecture is but it appears that the stage is a raised platform inside a room, and not actually built as part of the building. the ‘house’ is just a technical term for where the audience is, and in this case it's where it looks like most of the film crew and the producers/staff are. there’s pretty clearly a platform upstage centre, and i think there may be some others but i don't care about those right now. what i want to talk about is this dumbass false prosc they set IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STAGE. now i suspect that they did this to solve some problems that they could have had that i don't know about, since i don't know who the stage designer was and what the actual limitations of the space are. but basically they've built two stages and stacked them on top of each other to create one very deep stage, and then separated it off with a false prosc in order to control the size of the space a little better, and possibly to add some visual interest. this stage is functional for its purpose, absolutely, and i think, if mnet actually gave a shit about point of view and camerawork, it could produce some really interesting performances. however, because this stage is so deep, it kind of has the same properties as the traverse stage from before, but just with some big led screens in the middle for reasons. you extra have to pay attention to the directionality because you have all the staff and cameras concentrated in one specific cardinal point, so you have to get creative if you want to crossover between the two sides frequently. again, this is not necessarily bad; restrictions often produce some of the most creative decisions.  but! we have not seen a lot of consideration for camera and sightlines and audience pov, hence why i think this setup is dumb: it’s not facilitating the best performances it could.

ok now to the actual performances

btob

this is my favourite of the group because it's very clean lined and utilizes a few simple devices to pretty good effect. i realize these reviews are making me sound like i only like simple performances but i promise this is not at all true i'm just very critical and very picky. let’s start with the costumes, because why not. 

costumes

i like these very much, i love modernized traditional clothing in all forms, and these are very well tailored and well coordinated. they do the bulk of the work establishing the theme for the performance, along with the costumes on the backup dancers. personally i would have liked them to be a bit more colourful, à la the teal detailing that was on minhyuk’s final look. i'm getting a bit tired of the whole trend of having groups only wear all dark or all white, or maybe sometimes red if they're feeling spicy. obviously uniform colour is the easiest way to tie a group together visually, but on a show like this i think the groups would actually benefit more from looking distinct from each other internally rather than establishing the group as whole.

i liked that minhyuk had a costume change but i didn't really care for how it was how it was broken down. this is a very personal quibble because i literally have spent years prepping quickchanges but the method it broke down wasn’t the most visually compatible with the garment and felt kinda clunky. please ignore this anecdote it's just me being picky.

set

i loved the forest! a very excellent way to divide the stage area and obscure the weird stage lines/architecture that mnet has made. plus the snow, flowers, and fog? makes a really sharp and immediately indicative atmosphere, a very good use of visual shorthand to establish place.

i didnt love the screens, they reminded me a bit too much of rolling whiteboards from grade school, but they are thematically relevant. also, i feel like we didnt actually get to see about half the choreo for them? fuckin mnet and idiocy again. fun use of rear projection with the dancers’ shadows, and also good use of them to direct traffic, if you will. 

personally i think that the sheet gimmick from tbz’s performance would have been a better fit here instead of the screens, especially since the fabric motif was already established at the very beginning of the performance. plus you can do some really fun shadow work with a stretch fabric screen. 

personally i think there could have been a little bit more integration between the forest area and the screen area, or they could have done the whole thing in the forest space, but that would require a bit more consideration of camera and choreo maneuverability

sound

really liked this arrangement, obviously the song is iconic but they added a more traditional instrument sound. has good structure for the loose narrative that they had and they were well to label this as ‘theatre’ version because this did follow very closely to a traditional musical theatre sound and style

lighting

no complaints. the overall theme for this episode is apparently blue and red? again with them i like their dedication to a limited colour palette and i especially like the blossoms at the climax

staging

there was pretty clear camera choreo and a minimum of nausea inducing moves. i think some of the effectiveness of the staging got chopped by the editing but that’s not really btob’s fault.

i was just saying i wanted them to give minhyuk some time to shine, i was not expecting to get it so soon! this is a very smart choreo that proves you can be interesting without doing a lot of tricking. minhyuk obviously did a lot of practice and work with that sword, his movements are very fluid and he knows how to handle it. and it looks like its either a blunted proper blade or a correctly weighted replica. a lot of the times when sword choreo looks fake it's because the person either hasn't had enough practice or the weapon is not weighted/weighted incorrectly. only complaints are that you would never hold your fingers/palm that close and un-anchored over the edge of the blade, which is just a safety thing. also you would never scrape your blade on the ground like that, nor toss the thing like dead fish but that's a respect thing with a live blade and this is clearly done for dramatic effect so i’ll forgive it. please ignore this anecdote also it’s just my third dan getting uppity.

ikon

costume/set

smart thematically to go with the sort of miscellaneous 30s-40s (western) aesthetic because it's the fastest way to make it look like you built a theme with mnet’s weird pseudo art deco nonsense they've inexplicably got going on in the set dec. however, they should have stuck the theme all the way through, it would have been more visually cohesive and more interesting. we expect more hiphop/electronic sounding songs to come with these kinds of 4th gen costumes, it would have been anachronistic in a fun way to have them do that second half in 40s style suits. here’s a performance from sdc3 that uses that kind of anachronistic play (this was a combo stage with two ballroom dancers and it has a 20s aesthetic but close enough.) also here’s another routine from sdc3 that does a similar effect on a much more abstract scale, and also it’s a fucking incredible performance and it got slept on by the captains. also yes i know these are incredibly experienced career dancers but they way they construct narrative within their routines and their stage presence is SO GOOD. 

do not speak to me about the backup dancers costumes, holy shit i hate them. i hate them so much. how do you manage to hit too shapeless AND too fitted in the same fell swoop? i'm so mad at these. i'm neutral on bodycon dresses on the best of days but these were absolutely the wrong choice for this stage. generally kpop has abysmal costuming for female backup dancers on the whole but this is just like.....especially lazy. the point of the costume are to help give an indication of where and when you set your performance. they started off with a vaguely 40s theme and then jumped abruptly modern. why? also skirts like that are the literal worst choice for dancing in, hello?? the men’s looks are just sloppy, when you have a garment that big you want it to serve a purpose within the choreo, whereas with this it's just hiding the dancers’ movements.

as for ikon themselves, see everything ive said about black on black on black styling in the previous two reviews. 

the actual set is minimal and that's tragic. i mentioned mnet’s weird art deco theme and it was smart of them to try and play off that with a lack of stuff. definitely a mismatch of stuff pulled from yg’s prop storage, but they made it work as well as they could. no other meaningful comments i’m just kinda sad about it.

sound

the arrangement is fine, no complaints from me. they keyed up the old hollywood style musical theatre sound in the beginning which i really liked. i didn't mind the song/tone switch, i think they pulled it off.

staging

same as btob they learned more towards a theatrical style, which is smart for this particular format of show. i think this was the smartest staging of these three, and also i think the only ones to not get the crew in shot.

despite seemingly leaning into a more old hollywood style the narrative was a bit too loose for my taste. i'm not sure what i would have done to make it clearer at this moment since they had so little to work with, but i did get by on my previous knowledge of the songs. that shouldn’t be the only indication of narrative though! all elements need to support it!!

also like btob they had a pretty intentional point of direction and there weren't a crazy amount of spins. they also used the camera cuts the most effectively that i've seen so far. the first half is actually all in one take!!! incredible!!! thank you!!!! this is how you do it!!

the lighter flick gimmick was well pulled off and a good example of how to use a couple of simple tricks to good effect.

ikon as a whole has really great stage chemistry with each other, and they're extremely cohesive performers. this is a really strong physical performance from them, the dance was very solid and clean. good use of levels without verging into acrobatics. this might be the best group choreo i've seen so far, but we’re not very far so that's not a very high bar to clear.

it's a shame they had the budget of 1 banana.

tbz

i liked this stage better than their intro stage, but i still think they have a long way to go and they're still over ambitious. personally i find stages based on specific pop culture properties to be kind of twee and ineffectual, because it requires a specific knowledge of that pop culture property to work. sometimes the specificity can help with a narrative but you're at risk of alienating a larger portion of your audience out of sheer non-knowledge than anything else. 

costumes

again, interesting garments physically, but not much clarity of relation to the theme other than the colour. also the backup dancers???? another case of backup dancers being from an entirely different stage, what is up with those coats/dresses? looked more like they belonged in either sweeney todd or a vampire movie. 

hands in front of the camera again, but these were used much more effectively.  i'm not the biggest fan of mixing metals and i’m partial to silver on the whole so i didn't love the jewelry, but at least it was vague and stereotypical enough to denote ‘fire magic’ even if it does rely on a derivative middle eastern shorthand.

set

the stage set itself is fine, although definitely feels a bit haphazard to me. doric columns and frozen rocks and whatever that cover for the pyrotechnics was at the front, combined with the candles and the chaise lounge? like ikon, it felt a bit like they were pulling out of the props/set storage. not that all these things do not work together, it's just that you need a thread to tie them together, and this didn't have that for me.

sound

it's a crime they have a song called ‘no air’ and its not a jordin sparks cover. just saying.

i didnt really like this arrangement, again like their intro stage it didn't have a strong structure that suited the narrative, because they were pretty clearly trying a narrative on this one. also were most of the adlibs playback? they were singing live but there were so few shots of anyone specific singing. 

lighting

probably the weakest of the three. the projection design was a bit too tacky for me, and although i appreciated the small amount of variety in colour, it felt way too concert-lighting for me.

staging

the editing on this stage is wack and did no one any good. the hands leading/pov was a really smart device and they should have stuck out the one takes like ikon did, it would have made the whole stage feel a bit more cohesive. a lot better directional camerawork from them this time around, well done. again with the hands in front of the camera gimmick which i actually preferred this time, since they were a part of the narrative. the stretch/silhouette fabric i think they pulled off quite well, even if it didn't really fit thematically with the piece. i actually worked on a show a very long time ago that used this exact same effect with dancers and also rear shadow projection, and it requires a lot of rehearsal and trust to pull off well, so props to them. i think it was the wrong choice because there isn't an established motif for the fabric, so it kind of appears out of nowhere for one specific visual moment and then disappears, and i think that time could have been better served for something else narratively relevant.

again, these 4th gen groups are overly focussed on gimmicks as a way to make up for the lack of experience. personally i think this will be detrimental in the long run, and a reliance on gimmicks means that you don't trust your performers. tbz have the manpower to be doing some pretty cool collective dance work and i dont think its being trained or utilized correctly. they are suffering from a lack of cohesive stage presence right now and that can be fixed with training and time.

this might be because the group sizes are so different between these three but this choreo is very directionless. mnet is also providing to be absolute garbage at editing and i feel like i can't see the choreo at all.

this is a thing i've noticed with kpop camerawork in general, there’s very little regard for actually viewing the choreo as a singular work. and for some reason the camera always needs to be moving???? people do actually want to see what’s happening on the stage. the choreographer can only see from one spot, so from that spot is how they are intending it to look. you wouldn't need to upload full cams of every music stage if you just filmed the choreo properly in the first place. if you watch the two sdc3 clips i linked you can see a clear difference in maintaining the integrity of the choreo, even though both shows use several cameras and a lot of cuts.  obviously for kpop you want the money shots of idols’ faces but i definitely think there’s a healthier middle ground than what we have now.

ill wait for full subs but i want to know where in the fuck in sk you can rent a tank thas clearly been custom made for underwater photography, because that’s extremely cool even if it was absolutely unnecessary to the actual stage itself. i can think of several ways off the top of my head that would have achieved that same freezing effect without any of that wasted time and effort.

mnet decided to drop full cams while i was writing this and despite watching those my opinions are the same.

in conclusion, some more general thoughts:

i think ikon and btob got it right by leaning more into the theatrical than the cinematic, if that makes sense. i might be talking up my own ass here but these are theatre performances, and they should be treated as such. trying to do things that you can do on film isn't going to do you any favours in the long run, and it makes it harder to make a cohesive performance. i’m harping a lot about narrative but it is so important to performance. although it is not technically necessary, when doing big theatrical performance stages like this it does help with clarity of intent and general success. humans have brains structured around storytelling, it is literally the way our history has been passed down for tens of thousands of years. the atlantic published an article recently on narrative and memory, and it's a really excellent read for maybe after you've taken a break from this behemoth, oh dear god. 

tldr: the stages were good but disappointing in their own ways. mnet continues to sabotage via weird stage design decisions and bad editing. see you next week! (or in my ask box if you have questions)

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [54]

ix. DNR

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: fighting, violence, death, language, self harm (kind of? not really? but wanna include this just in case, you can message me if u need more details), blood. 

Summary: the discovery of the Second Dawn bunker leads to tensions in Polis, and Clarke struggles to keep the peace.

a/n: the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

March 25th, 2150; just outside of Polis

After the discovery of the bunker, things quickly become chaotic as planning for the survival of the human race picks up again. Meetings are held around the radio, discussing what tech and materials from Becca’s lab need to be brought to the bunker, what materials need to come from Arkadia, and how to get nearly 400 Arkadians from Alpha Station to Polis in a timely manner. Kane decides to stay behind in Polis with the bunker, while Jaha and Monty go back to Arkadia to prepare the others to leave. On the Island, Raven, Murphy, and Emori stay behind to pack up everything you can’t take on the first trip, while the rest of you head to Polis with the rover and the truck, taking as much stuff as you can in one trip.  

Miller drives the truck, seated alongside Jackson, while your mom, Roan, and Clarke sit in the back amongst the tech and supplies. Luna hitches a ride from the island in the boat, but parts ways with all of you as soon as you reach the other side. You drive the rover by yourself, talking to Bellamy over the radio most of the way, both of you excited to see each other soon. Once he arrives in Polis with the rest of your people, you’ll finally be reunited after five long days apart.

As the truck pulls to a stop in front of you, you stop the rover, watching as Jackson and Miller immediately jump out of the front and head towards Kane, who is standing near the entrance to the tunnels. The open back of the truck allows you to peer in, and Clarke and Roan start to stand, but your mother must say something to her, because Clarke lingers as Roan jumps out of the back and follows the others over to Kane. Your mom says something to Clarke, and her reaction is instant, her face pulling into a frown. Her eyes flash to you, and you reach for the door handle, sensing that something is wrong, before your mom’s words upset Clarke even further and she turns back towards her with a look of shock. 

Clarke jumps up and heads for the back of the truck, holding her hand up at you and telling you to stay put as she jumps out of the vehicle and jogs after Roan. Your mom scrambles out of the vehicle and follows her, trying to catch up, as you open the door to the rover slowly, sliding out of the vehicle as quietly as you can. You leave the door open in case you need to make a quick escape, and you creep towards the front of the truck, using the large vehicle as cover as you peer around it and look at the scene unfolding in front of you. 

Roan stands halfway between your mom and Clarke, and halfway between the rest of the group, his sword drawn. Trikru guards come stalking out of the trees, heading towards the Ice King, as Roan holds out his sword and yells, “What is this?”

Kane yells back, “There doesn't have to be any violence.”

Before the Trikru warriors even make it halfway to Roan, they are all hit with arrows that fly from the trees around them, killing them. Seconds later Azgeda warriors appear from the darkness, making a beeline for everyone in your group. Your eyes fall to Clarke, panicked, and she must sense your presence because she turns around and locks eyes with you, shaking her head once, and mouthing, “Run!”

Conflicted on what to do, but without a gun to help you, you watch as all your people are pulled to the ground and restrained. You watch on, working on a plan in your head when someone asks, “Where is Wanlida?”

Your breath stops in your throat and you don’t wait for an answer before you take off running back towards the rover, thankful you left the door open and the vehicle running. You hop inside and immediately put it into reverse, as arrows whiz past, aimed for you, and your tires slide in the snow as you sharply turn the rover away from danger. You can hear more arrows dinging and bouncing off the back doors, but you’re able to outdrive them easily, speeding away from them with reckless abandon. 

Your hands are tight on the wheel as you speed towards Arkadia, checking the mirrors every few minutes, waiting to see any sign of Ice Nation warriors on your tail. Instead, you find nothing, giving you enough relief to frantically call Bellamy. “Bellamy, come in, do you copy?”

Static answers you, leaving you alone, and you frantically repeat, “Bellamy, come in! Do you read me?”

You glance at the radio in your hand in frustration, waiting for his response. “Arkadia, this is rover one, do you read me? We are in danger, someone answer me, damn it!”

But still, you hear nothing but silence. You slam down the radio in frustration, and turn your eyes back to the road, keeping your quick pace and hoping that everyone is safe as you head towards back up. It’s not long before the familiar roads around Arkadia come into view, and soon, so do the front gates. The guards let you in as you approach, recognizing you through the glass, and you park the rover just inside the gates before jumping out and yelling to the guard closest to you, “Give me your radio!”

He pulls his radio off his belt and tosses it to you, and you nod at him in thanks as you run through the camp, heading towards the Chancellor’s office, speaking into the radio. “Bellamy, do you read me?”

Bellamy’s voice comes through instantly, muttering your name in confusion. “How are you on this channel? This is for the short range walkies.”

“Meet me in the chancellor’s office.”

“Wait, are you here?”

You push past a crowd of people heading towards the hangar bay, bags in their arms, already beginning the packing up process. “Yes, I’ll explain when I see you.”

“Copy that.”

You run the rest of the way to the office, happy to see that Bellam is already inside, waiting for you. You close the door behind you as you step inside, and Bellamy turns towards the source of the sound, his face splitting into a grin when he sees you. You both run towards each other, the danger that the others are in temporarily forgotten as Bellamy lifts you in his arms and spins you once. He sets you down and kisses you, long and slow, until you're dizzy and breathless from the spin and his lips. He pulls away, his eyes bright with love for you, and whispers, “You smell good.”

You grin at him, thinking of the bottles of soap in your backpack, snuck off the island so you could share it with him. “I found soap. Good soap, not the recycled Ark soap we’re used to.”

He starts to open his mouth to respond when the radio behind him comes to life with Clarke’s voice. “Come in, Arkadia. Bellamy? La lune? Do you copy?”

You run over to the radio, the earlier danger coming back to you in a rush. “Clarke, I'm here, are you okay? What about the others?”

“We’re okay, for now. Indra was with Kane when they found the bunker, and he promised to share it with Trikru if they stood guard over it. Azgeda and Trikru are refusing to live in the bunker together, and they’re on the brink of war. I'm holding things down the best I can here, and we’re supposed to meet with Indra soon to see if we can all work something out, but tensions are high. You need to get back here as soon as you can.”

You turn to Bellamy. “When are we scheduled to leave here?”

“First light.”

You run calculations in your head, figuring it’s a few hours until then, and hop back on to talk to Clarke. “We’re scheduled to leave in a few hours, but it’s nearly a day’s walk from here to Polis, especially with the entirety of our people with us. Me and Bellamy can try to come ahead if you need us to, I have the rover.”

“No, our people are important. You both need to help Jaha get them here safely. Just get here when you can, and be prepared for a war zone. I’ll keep my radio on me, even through it’ll only work when you start to get closer. Just check in every hour as you walk this way, until we figure out the range on these things. I’ll keep you updated then.”

“Copy that. I’ll keep someone in here on the Chancellor’s office radio, call us here if anything big happens and you need us.”

“Copy. See you soon.”

“Be safe.”

You put the radio down, and Bellamy turns to you, looking shocked and confused. “What was that all about?”

“Roan was ambushed at the meetup point by Trikru, and then Trikru was ambushed by Ice Nation, who also took our people hostage. I managed to get out of there before they got me. I tried to radio on the way to warn you, but I couldn't get a hold of you.”

“I was packing up the armory with the others, I’m sorry.”

“Luckily, everyone is okay for now.”

“In that case,” he motions towards the door. “We should pack our bags. I already took care of everything else, except our room.”

You step towards the door, tuning to look back at him as you pull it open. “Niylah agreed to get Clarke’s stuff, we just need to get mom’s things too. My pack is in the rover.”

Bellamy nods and follows you that way, letting you take the lead back to the rover to grab your bag. You grab the guard from earlier and put him on radio duty before you and Bellamy head to your mom’s room to pack her things first. There’s not much she asked you for, just the few clothes she owns, and a few pictures she has that Clarke drew her, which you carefully pack in a file folder so they won’t get ruined. You and Bellamy head to your shared room next, making quick work of the few belongings you have as you update him on the luxuries of Becca’s Island. Once you finish, the two of you plop down on the bed beside each other, taking a quick break before you go find Jaha and update him on everything. 

As you sit side by side, Bellamy looks at you, watching you closely. “So you’re a Nightblood now.”

He doesn't say it like a question, but you respond like he does. “Yes. Although Clarke says we should be careful about admitting that around the Grounders. Blasphemy and all that.”

Bellamy hums, and you look at him, trying to read his expression. It takes you a second to realize it’s curiosity. “You want to see?”

“What? Oh, no, that’s okay.” But you're already pulling your knife from its holster as he answers, and before he can object, you cut a small line on the palm of your hand, watching as black blood rises to the surface and pools into your palm. “Woah.”

You smile at him and his fascination. “I know right? Bummer that it’s untested, it would have been kind of cool to turn everyone into Nightbloods.”

Bellamy rips a strip of fabric from the sheet on the bed, wrapping it around your hand and tying it in place as he muses, “Guess I'll have to add that to the list of things that set you apart from everyone else.”

You smile and bump him with your shoulder. “Oh, stop it.”

You stand and offer him your non-injured hand, which he takes, and you pull him to his feet. Both of you grab your packs and head towards the door, stopping one last time at the exit to look over the space you shared together. You smile at it, thinking of all the wonderful memories you have here, before whispering into the empty room, “May we meet again.”

Bellamy reaches for your hand and squeezes it. “Onto bigger and better things.”

He leads you from the room and you walk down the hall together, hand in hand, searching for Jaha. You finally come across someone who tells you that he’s outside the hangar bay door with a group of guards, dealing with “unruly kids”. The phrase makes you look at Bellamy in confusion, and he shakes his head. “Jasper.”

You both make it to the hangar bay just in time to see one of the guards pounding on the closed doors, while Jaha and a group of guards watch on. On the other side, inside the locked room, Jasper turns up the music and turns away from your group, happy and drunk, and completely uncaring. The guard pounds again, and when that’s unsuccessful, he tries to pry the doors open, with no luck. He turns to Jaha with a glare. “It's jammed, same as the others. But this is the door to blow.”

Jaha looks at the guard, considering the plan. “How many gas canisters do we have?”

You and Bellamy both turn to look at them, not quite believing what you're hearing. “You can't be serious.”

Monty materializes from the crowd, coming to stand on your other side. “In Mount Weather, we beat the gas by using water. Jasper will be ready for that.”

Bellamy looks between Monty and Jaha, holding his hands up. “Just slow down, let me talk to them.”

“Bellamy, we have over 400 people ready to march.”

You and Bellamy ignore Jaha and head closer to the door, knocking on the glass. Jasper turns and sees you, his face lighting up a little at the sight of you, and he turns the music down slightly before walking over and pressing his hand to the glass of the door. Written on his hands are three letters that make your stomach drop. The guard behind you reads out, “DNR? What does that mean?”

You turn to look at Bellamy, saying the words to him, but making sure you're loud enough that the others can hear. “Do not resuscitate.”

The words make Bellamy panic a little, quickly turning to press the button for the speaker on the other side. “Jasper, open the door.” 

“We're not coming out.”

Monty sees Harper walk into view, his girlfriend and his best friend both behind that door, and he walks over to the intercom, pushing Bellamy aside. “Are you really willing to die when there's a way to live? Are they?”

“That's just it. We don't think it's a way to live.”

Monty looks at them, in disbelief that they're choosing this, and Jaha turns to the guard. “We're wasting time, set the charge. You can go to guns. Do not fire unless fired upon. Is that clear?”

You and Bellamy spin around, both of you protesting Jaha’s orders, “No, just wait!”

You press the button, looking Jasper straight in the eye. “Jasper, people will get hurt. I know you care about that.”

The guard steps on your other side, sticking the charges on the door as Jasper looks back at the others, worried. “If you don't want anyone to get hurt, don't open the door.”

Jasper turns away and Harper follows, and they turn the music up again, drowning out anything else. You and Bellamy look at each other, lost at what to do, when the guard announces, “We're all set. We should clear the hall.”

Jaaha walks over to the intercom, and announces, “Mr. Jordan, I will not leave children here to die.” 

You turn towards him, a flash of anger passing through you as you give him an incredulous look. “You sent them down to die! All of us were expendable to you then. The only difference now is that they have a choice, and so do you.”

Monty looks at you, not understanding. “What are you talking about?”

Bellamy, though, he understands what you’re trying to say. Because as much as it breaks your heart to leave your friends, your delinquents, your family behind, this is the choice that they made. Bellamy meets your eyes, then glances at the partying teenagers, and then locks eyes with Monty. “This is what they want.”

“They're wasted, they don't know what they want.”

Jaha considers this, long and hard, and you see him peering into the room at the teenagers. You see a flash of something pass over his face, and though you aren’t sure what it is, you get the distinct feeling that he looks like he’s seen a ghost. You briefly wonder if he’s thinking about Wells, which brings a pang of sadness to your heart, but you don’t get to think about it for long before the former Chancellor speaks up, his words surprising you. “Stand down, get ready to move out.”

“Yes, sir.”

Monty shakes his head, trying to stop Jaha. “What? No, you can't!”

“I'm sorry, son, but they’re right. We can't save them if they don't want to be saved.”

The guards follow Jaha as he leaves, leaving you, Monty, and Bellamy as the last ones in the hall. You and Bellamy peer in the door again, watching your partying friends, and Monty scolds you both. “If Octavia was in there, would you let her stay?”

“If Octavia was in there...at least I'd get to say goodbye.”

He turns to you, his last ditch effort. “And if it was Clarke?”

“It would break my heart to lose her, but you can't force people to do what you want. Especially this. Forcing their hand in this will only build resentment.”

You reach out and squeeze his arm, apologetic that you couldn't offer him anything more than that. Before you turn and walk away, you look at him. “We can leave the rover behind for them, in case they change their minds.”

Monty nods, “I’ll go unload it then, before I meet up with the rest of the group.”

You and Bellamy nod before you walk past him, maneuvering through the halls until you meet up with Jaha again. “I’ll lead them, you two bring up the rear and make sure no one else gets lost or left behind.”

“Will do.”

And then the exodus begins.

Jaha announces to those waiting that it’s time to go, and you and Bellamy stand in the hallways, waving people in the right direction for the next few minutes, periodically announcing important information. “Remember, right now it’s raining, but it's not black rain. It can turn at any moment, so keep the person with your assigned chem tent in sight at all times!”

The last few stragglers come into view, and you nod at Niylah as she walks past. You and Bellamy start to follow the group towards the door, but you both stop and turn around when you hear footsteps behind you. Jasper and Harper walk down the hall towards you, and you both start to walk closer to them, while Bellamy says, “Not too late to change your mind.”

“Yes, it is. You can still stay, you know.”

Bellamy shrugs, “I'm not a quitter.”

Jasper smiles, “Thanks for understanding.”

Harper looks around, searching for her boyfriend. “Where's Monty?”

You smile at her, “Unloading the rover. We're leaving it behind for you, by the way.”

Bellamy gives her a sad look, “He didn't say good-bye?”

She shakes her head, then whispers, “Take care of him for us, will you?”

“You know we will.”

She reaches out and hugs you, while Jasper and Bellamy hug, and then you switch, pulling Jasper in for a tight hug, your throat choking up with tears. “Thank you for the laughter, Jasper.”

He pulls back and smiles down at you, whispering, “Don't forget to laugh after I’m gone.”

You nod, and you and Bellamy step back, instantly reaching for each other’s hands as you crave each other's comfort. Bellamy looks between the pair and gives them a small smile, “May we meet again.”

“We won't.”

Bellamy counters, “Whatever the hell you want.”

You both give them watery smiles, trying to fight back your tears as you take one last look at your friends, before you turn and walk out the door, into the rain and onto the path of salvation.

-

You spend the first hour of the walk crying, your tears hidden from the others by the rain. Bellamy, however, is not so easily fooled. He comforts you the entire time, careful not to alert the others to your sadness. Each hour after that is increasingly less eventful than the one before it. You mark the start of each hour with an attempted radio call to Clarke, and it takes a while before you finally get through to her, but when you do, the only words she offers you are, “We’re safe, but things are worse than we thought. I’ll explain when you get here.”

The words leave you puzzled and eager to find out what she means, but it’s another few hours of walking before you find out. It takes a whole day of walking, and when you finally arrive, it’s late, well past midnight. Still, you get your people situated before you and Bellamy are led to a bedroom in the tower of Polis, on one of the lower floors. You throw your stuff down immediately, and follow the Ice Nation guard down the hall to Clarke’s room, who lets you in as soon as she sees you. “Let’s go to the balcony to talk. It's more private there.”

You nod your heads, following her to the balcony, and as soon as she's sure you're alone, she launches into an explanation of everything that happened since you left her nearly two days ago. The almost war between Trikru and Azgeda, Clarke’s attempt to stop the war by trying to become the next commander, Roan stopping her would be Ascension and proposing a Final Conclave, the winner takes a bunker. The news that Raven, now dying, has chosen to stay behind on the Island so she can take one last spacewalk and die in peace. That news saddens you, and you hate that you didn’t get to say goodbye to her. The last few days are full of loss, and you aren’t sure how much more you can take. 

Clarke looks out at the dark city as she continues her explanation. “The entire city is the battlefield. No time limit, no guns. One warrior from each clan fights until only one remains.”

Bellamy looks at her, his jaw clenching, not pleased with this idea. “And the winner's clan takes the bunker, just like that?”

She nods, letting him know those are the rules, but he shakes his head. “Without guns, and without anyone trained in Grounder combat, there's no way we can win.”

“We fight or we die.”

You all peer out at the silent city, wondering what you’re going to do, when the sound of hoofbeats clap on the stone ground. You all look towards it, watching a familiar horse ride down the street towards the tower. She stops just below Clarke’s balcony, the answer to the problem you were debating less than a minute ago. Octavia Blake, trained in Grounder combat, full of bloodthirsty rage, looks down at the Flamekeepers that surround her. “I'm here for the war.”

And just like that, Skaikru has a champion.

-

next chapter

[hypermanga]

Amralime? What does it even mean? (Kili x reader)

Requested by: @naniellesworld

Request:  Hi there! Hope you'll accept this other request from me! Thank you very much if you do. It's a gift for @dashesofink , so if you could tag her in please :) Request : Kili x Fem!Reader. Proposal.

Word Count: 1348

A/N:  Well, I’m really late posting this but I hope it lives up to the expectations <3. Also, the line of Durin doesn’t perish because I’m still mad about it.

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For once in your life, you were at peace.

For once in your life, you could be glad for your actions, as your actions had brought you to where you were today.

Had you not fled Mirkwood at the precise moment the orcs attacked the back gate alongside the Company, not liking King Thranduil’s policies, you would have never met the love of your life.

Watching from one of the balconies that rewarded you with a breathtaking view of the mountain down below, you glanced at your lover, Kili. He’d been very cheeky when you’d met him, trying to bribe you into search him for he could have, as he had put it “Anything down his trousers” for which he’d earned a laugh from you as well as a spark of interest about his journey, as it was not every day that the dwarves of Erebor stumbled upon your kingdom.

You spent all night talking, for which you earned a reprimand from Thranduil, saying how all the dwarves were stubborn and greedy and didn’t need our help nor interest at all. But you were long gone, approving of the journey as well as the motives. Didn’t everyone deserve to have their own home? Well, it seemed Thranduil begged to differ, and that’s how you ventured to Lake Town and fought alongside the dwarves who had stayed with Kili, who was recovering from a poisonous arrow, courtesy of Bolg.

As the Battle approached, you made up your decision to participate after seeing Thorin’s unwillingness to see the consequences of the upcoming conflict. You gazed all the armours that were lined up and covered in dust alongside Kili “You don’t have to participate, you know, this battle is ours and ours only” He watched you intently “I’ve got people to protect, and perhaps I’m not the most skilled with a sword, but I can hold myself in battle” You sheathed your sword, turning away to go back to Dale “(Y/N)” Kili caught your wrist, looking sad, those sad eyes that were inked in your brain “Please...Take care...” “You too Kili...Don’t get yourself killed please” Part of his heart told him to stay alongside his uncle, but the other one wanted to go with you.

In this case, his lineage was stronger but it allowed his heart‘s other half some space to make him land his eyes on your lips “Kili, I...” He started to tilt his head, closing his eyes, with you mimicking his actions “KILI” Thorin’s booming voice broke you both from your train of thought “See you in the battlefield” You shrugged, plastering on a sad smile before cursing Thorin mentally for this and the future events if anything was to happen to Kili.

It had been a miracle for the line of Durin to survive the battle, you'd thought, as the ambush the orcs had prepared could have been fatal. Thank Valar, you'd decided to accompany Kili on his way to Raven Hill, as you had the feeling nothing good was going to come from there: Fili was almost murdered in cold blood, but the unconscious body of his brother had been enough for Kili to engage in battle with Bolg. You still remember to this day how you leapt behind the orc, stabbing him repeatedly with your sword, out of pure fear for Kili's life, as well as the genuine smile he had rewarded you with which made your heart jump from your chest.

Even in the middle of the battle, he was able to calm you and make you feel like everything was going to go well, that you were going to make it alive. From then on, you fought back against back in perfect synchronization, slaying through enemies together as if you’d studied the other’s moves all your life.  

At that moment no one could deny there was something more than just friendship, even Thorin, much to his dismay.

"Amralime" You turned, smiling at Kili "You ought to tell me what does that mean one day, Meleth nîn" "Whenever you tell me whatever does this mean" Making you chuckle "I will tell you...If you catch me!" You pushed him out of the way and ran for the corridors of Erebor "You sneaky...Come back! (Y/N) That's not fair!" You dodged gracefully anyone who happened to be in your way, such as Balin and Bofur, who just saluted you with a smile, they saw Kili not far behind "Thorin!" You stopped in a halt, as the Company's leader turned a corner, looking as majestic as per usual "(Y/N)" You tried to gaze anywhere but his eyes "Again fooling around?" He arched a brow, making you look down in embarrassment "Go down the stairs, take a left turn and a right one. It will be more difficult for him to catch you" He winked at you, making you smile back. Following his instructions, you made your way into a hall with a lot of columns in it,  making you understand Thorin's point "Oh (Y/N)" Kili said in a sing-song voice, making you hide behind a column "I know you're in here...Very funny Uncle! Taking her side" You heard him scream, as well as him stomping his feet in annoyance upon hearing Thorin's laugh.

"I don't care, for I always win, nobody beats me at knowing these...CORRIDORS!" He had jumped behind one of the columns, not too close but not too far from you "Well, bummer. This would have been...PERFECT!" Now he was just two columns across from you "AW, C'MON!" He looked like an enraged child, making you chuckle. His ears perched at that, making you cover your mouth in fear and excitement "It seems my sweet (Y/N) is not here...Now she'll have to live without knowing what Amralime means" You let out a huff "Unless...She" He stalked to your column "Is..." Another step "Behind..." Another "This..." Another "COLUMN!" He got the one next to yours "FOR MAHAL'S SAKE" You burst out laughing, not caring for anything "So you think this is funny huh?!" He embraced you from behind, making you yelp in surprise "I'm sorry! It was too much" As you came down from the high, you slumped to the floor "Fine, you win" Now that you were to pronounce those words, nerves seemed to come back to you, making you light-headed again "It's okay, you don't have to tell me" He smiled "No, it's alright. Nîn Meleth means "My love" in Sindarin...So yeah, now you can connect the dots, I really, really like you. In fact I might be in love with you, Kili Durin".

At that, he appeared at a loss of words, before bursting out laughing "What's so funny?" "All these months, not wanting to tell me what it means, and it means the same as Amralime!" He used the column as support, gasping for air "Wait...Does that mean that..." He didn't let you finish the sentence, as he grabbed your face and kissed you with all the passion he could muster after his laughing fit.

And what a kiss, like the ones you'd read on when you were a wee elfling, dreaming about love stories.

As you parted in need for air, Kili took out a little box from his pocket "What's this?" "This, Amralime, is a courting bead" Your eyes widened at that "W-What?" "If that's okay with you, I would like to court you, in hopes of one day being your beloved husband" He sounded all royalty like, making you chuckle "Yes, I shall accept it with happiness and joy" You mimicked his posh voice, earning a snicker from him as he started to braid your hair "Now, your turn" You grabbed the other bead, and secured it carefully in the braid you'd done "Wow..." Your eyes glazed at the realisation "I'm bethroded" You smiled sweetly, laughing in desbelief at the words that just came out of your mouth "Yeah" Kili took your hand in his bigger one "I thank the Valar everyday for letting him cross our paths"

"I love you Kili, Nîn Meleth"

"I love you too, Amralime"

Well, hope you liked it @dashesofink 😁 and was worth the wait!😘

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