#*snickers* THE SEVEN DEATH GENERALS WHO LEAPT THROUGH TIME

[alitteraltrashcan7352]

Ok so quick question:

what the heck is digimon fusion battles?

I mean, yes it’s a version of Digimon fusion/xros wars, but like, how????????

Is it a fandub? is it a foreign dub?? is it a beta dub name????? WHAT IS ITTT

[theia-aithre]

This is my Gift for Myra @admyrable as a part of the Claudleth gift exchange hosted by @evilbunnyking. 

Chapter 1 will also be posted here in full, but the remaining ones will be on Ao3!

I hope you like it! I struggled to come up with something for a bit as I had so many ideas... Then this happened!

Oh yeah the first chapter turned out to be a huge poem, but don't worry it's just the first chapter! Normalcy will continue afterwards!

Beloved

Rating: T

Chapter 1: Something Beloved

Ever since he was a small child, Khalid of Almyra had only one wish…

He was born a moon too early, with not even a cry in his chest. The court doctor wrote him off as another loss, and turned a blind eye to his struggling breath. His mother was strong and his mother was fierce, but she had long gotten used to the sound of the death song.

But no matter how short, a life was still precious, so she said goodbye with a kiss because she wasn't heartless.

Two days later on a particularly bright and starry night, a powerful wind swept through the palace from the east. It was warm and pleasant, and brought the color into his cheeks.

A sea of glittering stars sat welcoming and bright when he opened his eyes to his first light.

.

The years that followed proved to be a challenge. He often fell ill, and was lanky and thin. A trait that made others look down on him.

At the ripe age of three, he came to recognize the look of disgust that filled the eyes of the servants. A look that was meant and reserved for him alone, tied tightly together with a needle and thread that read:  half-bred.

His mother had a temper and he was always scared to upset her. Whenever his heart was particularly broken he would go to her searching for comfort, only to find that her arms were never open.

  You must defend yourself my beloved. The world is dark, and the world is cruel. You will never survive if you cannot best anyone in a duel.

 So he learned to wield a bow before he could properly speak, and swing a sword before he could write. By the time he was five he was slowly winning his own fights.

But the children his age wouldn't always fight with a blade, they often used rocks or pieces of sticks. As time passed the pain would fade, but no matter how many times they knocked him off his feet, what fell from their lips would always scar impossibly deep.

Through many trials and errors and bouts of desperation he made a discovery. The threats they would pose would crumble with a single drop of desert rose.

.

Almyra was a kingdom run on power, though he lived far away from an ivory tower. As long as you won it didn't matter if you came out black and blue. After all, you were not fit to rule if a commoner could best you.

His family had secured the title of King for seven generations. An achievement that many believed would end after his father, whose might was feared across many nations.

The foreign queen was an exception, she was gifted in battle but not with giving life, both requirements to make a good wife.

Yet she was tolerated because the people's love for their king was expansive, and their respect for his wishes were massive. But the town's folk would whisper, and the servants would snicker that nothing could protect the boy once his weapons were no longer blunt toys.

.

But now, Khalid was six, and tired of all of it. So he strapped his sword to his side and his bow to his shoulder, and decided he'd leave, and suffer no longer.

He wondered if his mother would notice he left or if his absence would cause her any distress.

But he'd made up his mind, and started to run, wondering if the stars would gift her a better son.

He thought of his father, and the last time he saw him.

  Get up son, you must get stronger. How do you expect to lead if you can't stand any longer?

 Shaking his head he hurried down through the town. His father wouldn't miss him, there was no doubt in his mind. He would be grateful for the hole he was leaving behind.

He weaved through the streets, looking for a way to hasten his travel. He used his size to his advantage, and hid beneath a carriage. When the sun whispered it's final goodnight he disguised himself with the children who slept on the gravel.

Before he got too far a pair of shadowy figures cornered him in an alley. Each armed with blades curved like fangs, and faces that mimicked a caracle’s grin, and they started to laugh when they began to close in.

They beat him till he could no longer speak, and kicked him till his body was bloody and weak.

.

There were stories that the people believed in. Tales that were often used as a form of discipline for children. When you breathed your last, where you would awaken again would be determined by your past. He knew he had participated in his fair share of violence, but his heart screamed, and cried out to the silence.

 Though he was only six, young Khalid only ever had one wish.

His favorite star was particularly bright, and he wondered if it would grant him a  friend  in his new life.

As his vision began to fade, something started to whisper, to the darkness it beckoned.

 Closer, and closer.

 From a corner of the night, leapt a small girl with hair of shimmering starlight. Armed with only two stones she made quick work of his attacker’s bones.

When everything settled, and the rogues were no more, she turned to him slowly, lifting him gently as if he were holy.

He looked up to lock eyes with iridescent green, a strange color he'd never before seen.

A girl with wild hair, and dirt on her face had saved his life without thought about his mixed race.

He looked at her without any fear, all the while he kept waiting for her to disappear.

She smiled at him, and leaned in close, her voice a whisper, like a ghost.

When she spoke his eyes went wide and he held his breath.

“Hello boy, I am Byleth.”

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Between the Courts (Part 5)

Summary: Daughter of the Dawn, Warrior of the Night. Her Homes were being threatened. Her friend has just come home. She made a sacrifice in vain. And stole a hidden power. A new threat rises. The circle is ready. Pairing: Cassian x OC Word Count: 1165 Warnings: None.

Where are we going? Raya huffed from where she was wrapped around my arm. Hot air tickled my shoulder eliciting a slight giggle from my throat. I stayed silent for a moment, flying over Velaris becoming too distracting to hold a conversation. Something cold flicked into my ear.

"Raya!" I hurriedly rightened myself, stopping the crash she almost caused. I shouted apologies to the woman gardening who I almost hit.

You weren't listening, I figured you couldn't actually hear me. She snickered.

"You know you speak in my head right?" There was an expectant silence from her end. "There's this townhouse that Rhysand lived in, the others just might be there. That's if I can recall where about that is."

Sometimes I wonder how you're alive. Raya snorted. Ask someone!

"No need..." I blinked down at it. "There it is."

With several slow wing beats, I landed upon the stone pathway. After several comforting words from Raya, I steeled myself and stalked to the door. Using magic to hide my wings I took a calming breath. I gave a curt few knocks and waited in tense silence. When nothing happened I got ready to knock again.

"The Peregryn." I looked up at 'Cassian' who lent against the door frame.

I scratch my nose, "Half Peregryn actually."

"Rhys!" He hollered into the house. "She's here, you were right!"

"Told you she'd come back." The wannabe general of the court moved out of the way.

"Look, guys," I ran a hand through my hair. "I know you think this is all fun and games but I need the inner circle."

"What's so important?" Rhys asked with a bemused smile.

"Apart from the fact that I'm alive and spent a century learning advanced magic?" I shrugged, pushing into the house. "Let's start with item number one on the to-do list; break into the prison."

"Wait," They gave me a shocked look. "You're going to break into the prison?"

"Yes, so kindly tell me where the circle is." I slumped against the back of one of the cushioned chairs. "Then maybe explain why you're in this house."

"We've told you smart ass." The blonde fae waltzed in followed by Amren. "You simply won't listen."

Just take the information. Raya sounded just as agitated as I was.

Taking her advice I slipped passed Cassian's shields, diving straight into his memories. Everything flashed by in colours and emotions. Years upon years worth of feelings slapping me like a physical hit. The Illyrian camps, a dirt tent home changing into a stone house full of laughing boys. Battle after battle, some inflicting wounds, others merely breaking and shaping his mental state. Then suddenly men were fighting with him. People at his command, cowering at his presence. Seven glowing syphons bedecking the armour of both himself and comrade. A burst of colour, passed snow white and forest green, Velaris. The house of wind, the blonde woman, a silver-eyed one and the two other males. There were snippets of other places, visits to other courts and back to the camp, a few memories of the court of nightmares. It all trickled by, sunsets and sunrises with those friends. Then somewhere along the lines, another showed up, fragile and quiet spoken. It depicted her growth, the courts love for her and slowly she became stronger. Then there were countless meetings, him protecting the girl as she represented the court on countless occasions. Then there was sorrow and anger, a friend missing, one of the boys. A downward spiral followed many drinks and unshed tears. Things started to even out, looking okay even. A pause, a short time of silence and black colours. A death. The girl whom he'd grown to care for, gone. A funeral.

"Cauldron save you, Mother hold you. Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain. Go, and enter eternity."

I tore myself from his mind. Each of the present fae had their eyes trained carefully on me as I stumbled off the couch. The girl, me. He really was Cassian! They all thought me dead? I blinked rapidly looking around.

"You..." I breathed.

"How'd you get into my head?" Cassian trained an emotionless expression upon me.

Tears welled up in my eyes and the only words I dared utter were, "You really believe I'd died?"

"What does it-" Mor furrowed her eyebrows.

"I told you guys, that if I died," Rivets of water trailed down my cheek, collecting on my prominent bones. "I'd take down another Summer court building with me."

"Cauldron..." Cassian's blank stare broke into a shocked look. "There's no way."

"What is it? Cassian?" Mor placed a hand onto his shoulder.

"It's Lucina." Azriel stepped from the shadows, making us all jump.

"What about Luna?" Her eyes drifted across the room. "Am I missing something."

"It's been what, ninety years." I sniffed, giving her a small smile. "Don't tell me you forgot me."

"Mother above." She gaped and like a lightbulb finally switched on, she leapt into my arms. They all did actually, Azriel, Cassian, Rhysand even Amren. We all squished together in a group hug.

"There’s so much to say!" I smiled through damp eyes at my old friends.

"How about the fact that you 'died'?" Mor used air quotes.

"I had to go somewhere so we might have a chance to free Rhys." I turned to him, my expression slipping. "Guess it wasn't needed though."

"A human girl saved everyone under the mountain." Rhysand then continued, launching into a story about the human turned fae living in the spring court. "So she was visiting for the bargain when you stormed into our dinner."

"Right," I scratched behind my neck. "Sorry about that."

"Which brings up the question; You're a daemati?" Cassian furrowed his eyebrows.

"That's not important right now Cass." Amren rolled her eyes, looking back to me. "Luna's alive. Take it one miracle at a time."

"Thanks, ‘Ren." I gave her a grin, to which she flashed me her fangs, making my smile grow.

"This calls for celebrations!" Mor announced. "I'll get the wine!"

"Really Mor?" Rhys lifted an amused brow.

"Oh hush." She sent me a grin, quickly fluttering toward the kitchen.

"What has my favourite Illyrian been up to lately?" I turned back to the boys.

"Well, I..." Cassian gave everyone a smirk.

"Same old." Rhys interrupted him cockily.

"I meant Azriel," I looked over at the quiet spymaster. Noticing the subtle curve that formed from his lips.

"Nothing much." He spoke quietly, watching with a hint of amusement as the other boys began arguing.

"Did you have to do that?" Amren huffed, crossing her arms. "They'll be at each other's throats for weeks now."

"Oh, I'm counting on it." We all shuffled into a lounge seat as Mor returned with a pair of wine bottles and precariously balanced glasses. Taking the glasses off her hands the merriment began.