Rewriting to improve writing.
"Gods are born out of the need of humans but they shall die at the hands of the ones they've wronged."
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
The world of demigods has never been a safe one, plagued by monsters, the wrath of gods, and the impending d...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Better a monster, than an arrogant God. Better an angry child than a terrible parent. Better a hated villian, than a stuck up hero.
*・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿
༺♥༻
The horn was still ringing in Y/N's ears when the stampede of demigods surged toward the campfire like it was the fucking rapture.
And when she said stampede, she meant stampede. Kids were bolting full speed, tripping over tree roots, shoving each other aside like Black Friday shoppers fighting over the last flat-screen at Best Buy. The whole thing had the unhinged energy of a cafeteria food fight mixed with a religious pilgrimage. A kid in front of her got fully tackled by a Hermes camper, and instead of, y'know, fighting back, he just popped up like a damn Whac-A-Mole and kept running.
It was cult behavior.
Maybe not the blood-sacrifice, eldritch-worship kind of cult (though, considering the fact that they were literally children of gods who had started multiple wars over some dumb shit, she wouldn't rule that out). But it was definitely the weird, unspoken-tradition-following, everybody-do-it-or-you're-weird kind of cult.
One second, kids were mid-conversation. The next? Gone. A volleyball had actually been abandoned in mid-air, and Y/N watched it bounce against the sand, completely ignored, as everyone rushed toward the amphitheater like their lives depended on it. Even the weapons trainers—grown-ass adults—dropped their sparring swords and followed. Some kid had been about to take a bite of a sandwich and literally just threw it over his shoulder, bolting like the Kool-Aid Man had just busted through the trees screaming about the end times.
Y/N just stood there, watching the madness unfold.
"...Jesus fucking Christ," she muttered under her breath.
Beside her, Maliah shot her a look. "You do realize where we are, right?"
"Yeah, at Jonestown for minors." She gestured at the frenzied crowd. "Is this a normal thing, or—?"
Maliah sighed through her nose. "I know you're new, but maybe don't say the Lord's name in vain while surrounded by the literal children of gods."
Y/N gave her a deadpan look. "Maliah, Apollo canonically tried to speedrun five hundred years of bad bitches. I think we'll be fine."