#demigod! reader

[ninisdollie]

forbidden fruit - yang jungwon 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ . Demigods series

Synopsis: At the halfblood camp, there exists an unwritten but unbreakable rule: no romance between demigods. You, daughter of Athena, are known for your intelligence and wisdom, always following the rules to the letter. However, your life takes an unexpected turn when you fall in love with Yang Jungwon, son of Poseidon. Though your feelings are deeper than ever, you know this relationship is dangerous. Not only because of the rule that separates you, but because any discovery could put your lives at risk. As you struggle to keep your love a secret, you must use all your cunning to hide what is growing between you two, but how long can you conceal what you truly feel before everything falls apart?

Content: +18MDNIfem! reader x jungwon, pjo au, poseidon's son! jungwon x athena's daughter! reader, kind of emotional, based a little on percabeth, soft vanilla sex, praising, a little bit of dirty talk, oral (f.rec), unprotected sex, creampie.

taglist at the end, likes and reblogs are appreciated !!

You were everything a daughter of Athena was expected to be.

Sharp-minded. Disciplined. Untouchable.

From the moment you stepped into Camp Half-Blood, eyes  followed you, not out of admiration, but respect laced  with fear. You were the kind of girl who could outsmart a son of Hermes in chess, shoot a bullseye blindfolded, and recite the Iliad in Ancient Greek just because someone said you couldn’t. People came to you with problems they couldn’t solve. Cabin Six called you their pride. Children asked for advices, girls from other cabins wanted you as their friend and as their ally in Capture the Flag.

You were born into legacy.

Not just the legacy of Olympus, but the sharp, gleaming, heavy weight of Athena’s name. Wisdom, logic, order. Your very existence was curated by divine intention. You weren’t an accident, or the result of fleeting desire like so many other demigods. No —Athena had chosen to bring you into the  world,  and that meant something.

You loved strategy, planning, puzzles. You loved the satisfaction of a well -constructed battle plan,  the thrill of  solving a prophecy no one else could make sense of. When there was a quest to be assigned, Chiron often consulted you first. Not because of favoritism, but because your insight had saved lives more times than anyone could count.

You were your mother’s pride.

Athena didn’t say it often, not in words.  But when she appeared to you in dreams or left offerings by your bedside,  you knew. You felt it in the way she would look at you , composed, proud, maybe even a little possessive. You weren’t just her daughter. You were her creation, the living embodiment of everything she valued.

So you never gave her a reason to doubt you. You never broke the rules. You never chased chaos, or love, or anything that could make your legacy fragile.

Not until Jungwon.

He wasn’t part of the plan.

You had read about Poseidon’s children, powerful,  unpredictable, ruled by instinct more than reason. And when Jungwon stumbled into camp, dripping wet, dazed, and wide-eyed after slaying a Minotaur with nothing but a broken blade and his bare hands, something in your gut twisted.

He didn’t look like a hero. He was clumsy, unfocused, always a little out of place among the well-trained campers.  But he had a quiet strength to him. He smiled like he didn’t care what anyone thought, and he moved through the world like it was his to claim, even when he  tripped over his  own feet.

You should’ve ignored him. You tried to ignore him.

Jungwon couldn’t strategize to save his life. He fell asleep in Chiron’s history lessons. He called Ares kids “mean jocks”  to their faces. He once asked if drachmas could buy snacks at the mortal mall.

You were the camp’s brightest mind. He was the camp’s biggest walking contradiction.

You were ice. He was waves.

And when he smiled at you, really smiled,  like he wasn’t  supposed to, your world tilted.

You didn’t like him.

You couldn’t like him.

But feelings have a way of creeping in, soft and slow, like tidewater kissing the shore. And before you knew it, his clumsiness wasn’t annoying. It was endearing. His dumb questions made you laugh. And his smile?

It stopped being dangerous.

It started being home.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

Yang Jungwon wasn’t what anyone expected.

When he first stepped into Camp Half-Blood, the whispers followed him like a storm cloud. Son of Poseidon. The boy who killed the Minotaur. The one who could charm any creature, monster or god, with just a flash of that smile. He was supposed to be a legend in the making. But no one had warned you how annoying he’d be.

He wasn’t tall like the sons of Ares. Nor broad-shouldered like those of Hephaestus. But when he walked into the Big House with his hair wet from rain and eyes wide with curiosity, the air around him shifted.

There was something wild, untamed about him. Like the ocean, unpredictable and a little dangerous. He didn’t give the vibe of a camp hero, he didn’t try to. He strolled into camp with the same nonchalance as a guy picking up coffee on a lazy Sunday morning, and within minutes, he was the center of attention.

It wasn’t his looks, although those storm-colored eyes and those dimples on his cheeks were enough to make the unspoken rule about no romance feel like a joke. It was the way he didn’t care about anything. He had no reverence for the gods. No fear of the monsters. Not even an ounce of caution when he crashed headfirst into a pine tree during his first battle training session.

His lack of self-awareness made you want to strangle him and kiss him all at once.

“Do you always fight like that?” You’d asked, irritated beyond belief after watching him swing a sword around with all the grace of a toddler trying to hold a knife.

His sheepish grin had been all charm.

“Not really. But I do like to make things… interesting.”

And in that moment, with your brows furrowed in a mix of disbelief and growing interest, you knew it wasn’t just the Minotaur he had killed. He was dangerous in a way you hadn’t seen coming.

Not because of his powers or his lineage.

But because you couldn’t figure him out. And gods, that was the most infuriating thing of all.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

You started getting closer after an almost-failed mission. It was supposed to be simple, in and out.

You were given the task of retrieving an ancient artifact hidden deep in the woods, a task normally reserved for the more level-headed demigods. Naturally, you had the strategy already mapped out. Every move, every potential threat, every path through the dense forest was accounted for in your mind.

And then he showed up.

“Hey! I’m here to help,” Jungwon called out as he came bounding up to you, his sword gleaming in the sunlight, only to trip over his own feet and nearly crash into a tree.

You sighed before even speaking.

“This isn’t a joke, Jungwon. Stay focused.”

His grin was unrepentant.

“I am focused!” He pulled himself up, dusting off his clothes. “Just… you know, having fun out here. Who said strategy can’t be a little bit of adventure?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, annoyance bubbling up.

“This is a mission, not a game.” You motioned ahead, where the shadows deepened in the trees. “We’re not just collecting souvenirs. We’re in danger.”

“Danger’s my middle name,” he said with a wink, slinging his sword over his shoulder with a nonchalance that made you grit your teeth.

You knew he wasn’t serious, but the way he treated everything like a joke, like nothing mattered, drove you insane. Everything had to matter. Especially here.

As you both ventured deeper into the woods, the atmosphere grew heavier. It wasn’t long before you heard the low growl, something large, lurking in the underbrush. You shot Jungwon a quick glance.

“Stay back. I’ll handle this.”

Before you could take a step forward, Jungwon was already charging at the beast. The wild, uncoordinated way he swung his sword almost sent you into a panic. The monster, a Chimera, its scales glittering black under the dim light, charged, its massive horns aiming right at him.

“Jungwon, no!” You shouted, trying to reach him in time.

But it was too late. Jungwon lunged forward, his sword missing the Chimera’s flank by inches as it swung its tail toward him, knocking him off balance. He fell, hard, straight into a pile of fallen branches, his sword clattering to the ground.

You froze for a second, but instinct took over. The Chimera roared and turned its fury on you, its fangs flashing.

You weren’t sure how you did it, maybe it was your strategic mind, the hours you spent reading Athena’s scrolls, or the training you’d put in, but in one fluid motion, you darted forward, dodging the beast’s attack and slashing at its underbelly. The Chimera screeched and staggered back, leaving it open for another strike.

You didn’t look back at Jungwon, but you knew his eyes were on you. The moment passed in a flash, the beast falling with a thud as you stood over it, breathing hard.

Silence followed.

“Not bad,” Jungwon called from behind you, a bit winded but amused. “I mean, I did most of the work, but—”

You whirled around, cutting him off with a glare.

“You almost got yourself killed, Jungwon! What the hell were you thinking charging in like that?”

He took a step forward, a teasing smile playing at his lips.

“I was thinking I could’ve handled it.” He dusted off his shirt, completely unbothered by the mess he was in.

“You can’t just charge in and hope for the best!” You were practically seething now. “This isn’t some game where you can rely on luck. You could’ve gotten us both killed!”

He stopped, his grin faltering slightly as he met your gaze. For a moment, you thought you might’ve seen something more in his eyes, something other than his usual teasing. But it was gone too fast for you to read.

“You’re right,” he said, tone shifting a little. “I messed up. But it was… kind of fun watching you work.”

Your breath hitched at the unexpected compliment. It was disarming. But you weren’t about to let him off that easily.

“Don’t make a habit of it,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not saving your ass again.”

His eyes softened just slightly.

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

And just like that, the air around you both seemed to change. It wasn’t the usual playful tension. This was something new, something you hadn’t expected. Something that made your heart skip a beat, and your mind race with thoughts you had no business entertaining.

“Let’s just finish the mission,” you muttered, turning on your heel to walk ahead.

Behind you, Jungwon chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Sure. Lead the way, smartypants.”

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

It didn’t happen all at once. Love never does, not the kind that consumes you slowly, like a tide pulling you under before you even realize you’re drowning.

At first, it was just casual interaction. Reluctant partnership. Jungwon had been assigned to your combat team for a short mission, and you’d bristled at the idea. You still thought of him as the clumsy new kid with waterlogged shoes and a crooked grin who stumbled into Camp Half-Blood dragging the corpse of a Minotaur behind him. Powerful, sure, but chaotic. Undisciplined.

You were precise. He was impulsive.

You spoke in plans and formations; he spoke in jokes and instinct.

And yet… it worked.

He followed your lead, even when he didn’t understand it, because he trusted you. Not blindly, but with an openness that unnerved you at first. He never made you feel like you had to prove yourself. And despite how annoying he could be, how distractingly pretty his eyes looked in the sunlight, he listened when it mattered.

Over time, the mission ended, but the partnership didn’t.

Jungwon became a fixture in your life in ways you didn’t expect. You’d find him waiting for you after training, hair tousled, cheeks flushed, grinning like a fool. He’d bring you snacks you liked without you ever telling him. He never let you study in peace, always interrupting with some stupid joke or question, yet somehow, it became your favorite part of the day.

You started meeting him by the lake. At first, just to talk. He’d skim stones across the surface, and you’d tease him about his form, even though you secretly liked watching his arms move when he threw them. The conversations became deeper. The silences more comfortable. You shared things with him you never told anyone, about the pressure of being Athena’s daughter, the loneliness of being seen as perfect, the fear of disappointing someone who wasn’t even really there.

He never judged you.

Instead, he told you about the ocean, not just his powers, but how it made him feel. How it calmed him. How it made him homesick for something he never had. He told you how scared he was of being the son of Poseidon, not because of the power, but because he didn’t know if he could live up to the name.

You touched his hand one night, just for a second, and he didn’t let go.

The first time you kissed him, it was after a sparring match. You had him pinned to the ground, knees on either side of his hips, sweat running down both of your necks, breaths tangled. He looked up at you, his chest rising and falling fast.

And then he said, “You’re not going to let me up, are you?”

You didn’t know why you kissed him. You just did.

And he kissed you back like he’d been waiting for it since the day he met you.

From that point on, things changed.

You were still careful. You had to be. Camp had rules, strict, unspoken rules. No romantic entanglements between demigods. The gods watched. The camp leaders enforced. Love between two children of Olympus wasn’t just frowned upon. It was dangerous. It could tip the balance of power. Destabilize alliances. Invite disaster.

You both understood what was at stake.

So you didn’t walk too close in the daytime. You didn’t meet at the campfire. You never touched hands in public, and you definitely didn’t look at each other too long. You became experts in secrecy. A glance across the archery range. A coded phrase in training. A scribbled note hidden in a book.

But when the sun dipped below the horizon, when the camp fell silent and the stars came out, that was when you belonged to each other. He would sneak into your cabin through the window. You’d lie together, tangled under thin blankets, whispering about dreams and fears, about what it would be like if things were different. If the rule didn’t exist. If love wasn’t forbidden.

Sometimes he kissed you like you were fragile. Other times, like he couldn’t believe you were real. Either way, he always held you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

You didn’t realize how much you’d fallen for him until the thought of losing him made your chest ache in a way you’d never known. Not even the fear of disappointing Athena compared to the fear of being forced to let him go.

He felt the same.

You saw it in the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Like the whole world narrowed to your presence. Like you were the only thing in the universe he’d fight for.

Now, a year later, the love between you was no longer something soft or budding. It was all-consuming. It was fire under your skin and salt in your lungs. It was dangerous.

And no one could know.

Not if you wanted to stay together. Not if you wanted to survive.

But every day, it got harder to pretend. Harder to keep your hands off him. Harder to lie to your friends. Harder to look your cabinmates in the eye and say you were still Athena’s perfect, logical daughter.

Because you weren’t just that anymore.

You were his.

And if the truth ever came out, you didn’t know what you’d do.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

The camp was quiet, blanketed in the kind of silence that only came after curfew, when the cabins were dark, the training fields were still, and the stars felt just a little too close. You stood at the lake’s edge, barefoot in the cool grass, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. The moonlight shimmered across the surface like broken glass, glittering reflections catching in your tired eyes.

It was always the lake.

You didn’t come here just to think, you came to feel. The way the air hung heavy with mist. The way the water moved like it was alive. The way it reminded you of him, even when he wasn’t there.

But tonight, you weren’t just feeling.

You were unraveling.

You weren’t supposed to be like this. Not you, daughter of Athena. The one who had always followed the rules, who had always been told she was her mother’s pride, sharp, unshakable, destined for greatness.

You remembered what it felt like the first time you saw your mother in a dream. How her voice, cold and elegant, filled you with something like reverence and fear all at once. You remembered her saying, “You are my legacy. Don’t let me down.”

You’d lived by those words for years.

And now, every kiss you shared in secret with Jungwon, every whispered “I love you” spoken between cabin walls and stolen glances, chipped away at that legacy like cracks in marble.

“You okay?”

His voice, low and familiar, broke through the quiet like sunlight through storm clouds.

You didn’t turn around. You didn’t have to.

“I had a feeling you’d come,” you said softly, barely louder than the wind.

“I always do,” Jungwon replied, and a moment later, you felt his warmth behind you, his presence grounding. “I saw your bed empty and figured you were here again. Couldn’t sleep?”

You shook your head, still watching the water ripple under moonlight.

He didn’t press you. He never did. Instead, he stepped closer, standing beside you now, close enough that his arm brushed yours. He glanced at you, eyes soft, thoughtful, and then tilted his head slightly.

“You’ve got that look,” he murmured, half a smile on his lips. “The one where you’re about to tell me the world’s ending and it’s probably your fault.”

You let out a broken laugh, the sound small and tired.

“Maybe it is.”

Jungwon’s smile faded. He turned to face you fully.

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

You finally looked at him.

He was in his hoodie and sweats, damp hair curling over his forehead, eyes reflecting the lake like mirrors. There was something in his expression, something aching and wide open .and it undid you completely.

“I keep thinking about her,” you whispered. “About what she’d say if she knew. About what I’ve become.”

Jungwon blinked slowly.

“You mean… someone who feels too much and thinks too hard and loves too deeply?”

You swallowed, throat tight.

“I mean someone who disobeyed everything she was raised to believe. Someone who’s risking everything for something that might not even last.”

His brow furrowed, and then he stepped forward, cupping your face with both hands.

“Don’t say that,” he said, voice quiet but intense. “Don’t you dare say we won’t last.”

You closed your eyes.

“I want to believe that,” you said, your voice cracking. “But there are gods, Jungwon. Real ones. My mother watches everything. And if she finds out, if Chiron finds out — if anyone finds out — I don’t know what they’ll do.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

“I don’t care what they do,” he said. “They can throw me in Tartarus for all I care. I’d still choose you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I don’t regret loving you,” you said, tears finally slipping free. “I just wish it didn’t feel like a crime.”

He pulled you into his arms like he was anchoring you to the earth.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered into your hair. “You’re not a crime. You’re my choice.”

You clung to him, arms tightening around his waist as he rocked you gently, the lake lapping at the shore like it, too, felt the weight of your love.

For a long moment, the world faded. There was no camp. No prophecy. No gods.

Just two broken kids trying to build something out of the pieces they were given.

You pulled back slightly, your noses brushing, eyes wet and locked. He kissed your cheeks first, soft, reverent, like he was trying to erase your tears with his lips. Then your mouth. The kiss was slow, tender, almost shy. But it deepened quickly, desperation curling in every movement, a quiet ache that said, I need you. I need this. I need to feel like we’re still okay.

His hands tangled in your hair as your fingers slipped under the hem of his sweatshirt, touching the bare skin of his back. You kissed him like it might be the last time, even if you prayed it wasn’t.

When you finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know what the gods have planned,” he whispered. “But I’ll fight them. All of them. I’ll fight Olympus itself if I have to.”

You let out a soft, shaking breath.

“I don’t want a war,” you murmured.

“I don’t either,” he said, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “I just want you.”

And in that moment, with the stars watching, the lake shimmering, and his arms wrapped around you, you wanted to believe that was enough.

Maybe it had to be.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

It began with waves.

Not soft or rhythmic, but slow, creeping things. Sludgy, dark. Pulling back and forth like something was breathing beneath them. You were standing on a desolate beach you didn’t recognize.

The sky was grey, sickly. The sand under your feet was coarse, colorless, almost like ash. Wind ripped through the air in sharp howls, but there was no sun, no moon. Just the shriek of gulls that never landed and the heavy, endless crash of water. You were barefoot, your clothes torn at the edges like you’d come from battle.

You turned, searching for something, anything familiar.

And then you saw him.

Jungwon.

He was standing at the edge of the water, barefoot like you, a few paces ahead. But something was wrong, his shoulders were hunched. His back was turned. And his hands were shackled in thick celestial bronze chains that trailed into the ocean, disappearing into the depths.

“Jungwon?”

Your voice barely carried in the wind. It was swallowed like it didn’t matter. You tried to run to him, but the sand was too deep. Too heavy. Like it didn’t want you to reach him.

Still, you pushed forward, breath stuttering in your chest.

“Jungwon, please—”

You were almost there, so close you could touch his shoulder, when the sky cracked open with a terrible, familiar voice.

“So this is what you’ve become.”

Your blood froze.

She stood at the top of the dunes, her armor glinting silver, her owl perched on her shoulder. Your mother, Athena. Radiant and cold. Her eyes glowing with power and disappointment. She descended the sand like a queen to her execution.

“All that I gave you. All the wisdom, the discipline. All the years I spent shaping your mind, your spirit. And you throw it away for this?”

She gestured to him, to Jungwon, still shackled, still silent, as if he were nothing but a stain on your honor.

“The son of the Sea. You let emotion cloud your wisdom.”

You shook your head, breath ragged.

“He’s not weak—he’s good, he’s kind—”

She was closer now, towering. Godlike. Her voice thundered across the sky.

“You think this is love. But love is foolish. Dangerous. Weak.”

Lightning struck the sand nearby, shattering it to glass. You stumbled back, hands raised, but she kept coming.

“You were supposed to be a warrior of thought. My legacy. My pride.”

“I am!” you cried, voice cracking. “I still am, I—!”

“No.”

She stopped before you, her expression carved in stone.

“You are no daughter of mine.”

The chains around Jungwon yanked suddenly, violently. He gasped, the first sound he’d made, as the ocean pulled him backward. His eyes found yours, wide and scared and betrayed.

“Y/N—!”

You sprinted, reaching for him, screaming his name, but your feet sank deeper, the shore crumbling beneath you. Your hand brushed his just as he disappeared beneath the water, swallowed whole.

“Jungwon!”

You collapsed where he’d stood. Salt stung your eyes. The waves receded.

And Athena?

She was gone.

Only the owl remained, circling overhead, shrieking and shrieking until—

You jolted awake.

Your scream caught in your throat. Your sheets were tangled, soaked with sweat. Moonlight poured through the cracks in your cabin walls, bathing everything in silver, but it didn’t soothe you. You were shaking.

You sat up slowly, pressing a hand to your heart. It was racing, too fast, too loud. Your mouth was dry. Your skin clammy. You felt like you’d drowned.

But the worst part wasn’t the fear.

It was the guilt.

Because even in a dream, even in your own subconscious, you hadn’t protected him. You’d stood still. You’d let her take everything.

You covered your face with both hands, trying to breathe through the rising panic. But the shame settled in your bones like frost.

You were Athena’s pride.

Until you weren’t.

And now… you were nothing but a girl caught between what she was born to be, and the boy she couldn’t stop loving.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

You’d been quiet for days.

Not the kind of quiet that passes unnoticed, like skipping lunch or keeping your nose buried in a strategy scroll. This was the kind of quiet that carried weight. That pressed between you and Jungwon like a wall, invisible but suffocating. You could feel him watching you during practice. In the mess hall, at the stables. Always hovering just close enough to reach you, but never close enough to touch.

And it was killing you.

Because you missed him. Gods, you missed him like air. But every time you looked at him, all you could see was your mother’s face in that nightmare. Her eyes, the disappointment, the thunderous silence that followed.

You’d never known fear like that.

Not from monsters. Only from the thought of losing everything you were supposed to be.

So you started pulling back. Quietly, strategically.

You stopped meeting him behind the cabins after dinner. You skipped his favorite spot by the lake. You turned your back a little too fast when his hand brushed yours during training.

He noticed, of course he did.

You were halfway through sharpening your dagger after sparring when you felt his presence, steady, warm, uncertain , standing behind you.

You didn’t turn around.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

His voice was careful, gentle. Like he was trying not to startle something fragile. He always spoke to you like this, with so much swetness and kindness and love, and it would always drive you crazy, the velvet sound of his voice.

You kept your eyes on the blade.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Y/N.”

Just your name, but something in his tone made you pause. You exhaled, sharp and shallow, and finally turned to face him.

Jungwon stood there in his armor, hair damp from training, cheeks still flushed from effort. He looked beautiful, he always did, his dark hair and his blue eyes staring directly at your soul. But he also looked tired. Not from battle, but from you.

“Did I do something wrong?”

The question landed like a knife.

Because no, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Not once. He’d only ever loved you. Gently. Openly. Like you were something worth choosing even when it hurt. He was perfect, he was the sweetest boy ever, the bravest warrior you'd ever known.

But you couldn’t say that.

So instead you lied.

“I just think we should cool off,” you said, forcing your voice to stay even. “Keep some distance. It’s getting too risky.”

He stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

“So… you’re cutting me off.”

“It’s not like that��”

“Then what is it like?” he asked, stepping closer. His brows furrowed, confused. Hurt. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you don’t want this anymore.”

Your throat tightened.

“You know I do.”

“Do I?” he whispered.

You looked away, jaw clenched.

How could you explain it? The nightmare. The weight of being Athena’s daughter. The way your whole life had been a blueprint for greatness, and how one look from him, one stupid smile, could unravel every careful thread you’d ever laid down. The way that, even if you did love him, with a strength that was greater that the whole Olympus, your pride was always speaking for you, always taking you over. How you didn't want to lose him, but you also didn't want to lose the glory that being your mother's favorite brought to you.

“This… this thing between us,” you said slowly, “it’s not just reckless. It’s selfish.”

Jungwon just stood there, motionless, as if you'd just stabbed him right into his heart. He blinked, and you saw his beautiful ocean eyes glisten with tears he clearly was starting to hold.

“So love is selfish now?”

You winced, the ache on your chest growing by every second, by every word that came out of your mouth, that you didn't mean, but you had to say.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” you said quickly, before he could twist your words further. “I just… I can’t be weak, Jungwon. I can’t afford it. Not with who I am. Not with who she is.”

He was quiet for a long moment. And when he finally spoke, his voice was lower. Raw.

“Do you think I don’t know what’s at stake?” he asked. “You think I haven’t thought about it? Every day? Wondered when they’ll find out, when we’ll be punished, when you’ll leave me to save yourself?”

Your head snapped up. He knew, of course he knew.

“I’m trying to protect us,” you said, eyes stinging. “From them. From everything.”

“But who’s protecting me from you?”

The words knocked the breath from your lungs.

Because you had nothing. No defense. No brilliant answer.

“I wake up every morning wondering if you’re still mine,” he said, stepping back like it hurt to be near you. “And for days now, it’s felt like you’re not.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out.

He shook his head, blinking too quickly. A single tear fell down his cheek, drowning in the deep dimple that appeared when he swallowed hard.

“I thought you were brave enough to fight for us. I thought… I thought I was more than a mistake you regret.”

“You’re not,” you said, stepping forward, hand reaching for his. “You’re not a mistake.”

But it was too late.

He had already taken a step back.

“Then why do I feel like one?”

And with that, he turned and walked away, his shoulders rigid, his fists clenched, the ocean in his blood rippling with heartbreak you couldn’t soothe. You didn’t stop him. You couldn’t.

Because the truth was… you didn’t know how to love him and live up to the legacy you were born to uphold.

And for the first time since you fell for him, you didn’t know which one would survive.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

Jungwon sat on the edge of his bunk, arms resting on his knees, fingers twisted together in a way that made his knuckles pale. He hadn’t taken off his training gear. He hadn’t moved much at all. His sword leaned against the bedframe, untouched. The scent of sea salt still clung to him like a second skin, but it brought no comfort now.

He swallowed hard and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I’m not ashamed of you.”

He replayed those words again and again, like they were supposed to soothe something. But they didn’t. Because if you weren't ashamed, then why did it feel like you were hiding him?

It wasn’t the secrecy that hurt. He could live in the shadows if he had to. For you, he would. But the way you looked at him lately, distant, careful, like you were trying to build walls again, that was what made his chest feel too tight to breathe.

“I can’t be weak, Jungwon.”

As if he was the weakness. As if loving him was a flaw you had to crush before it ruined you. He knew who you were. Athena’s daughter. The pride of Cabin Six. The girl with sharp eyes and a sharper mind, who carried the weight of her legacy on her shoulders like it was carved into her bones. You were beautiful, you could easily pass as an Aphrodite girl, the way your hair rested lazily over your shoulders, the way your smile made his knees week the first time you saw him, the way you whispered his name when he was making love to you, making him addicted to you.

So why did it feel like you were already forgetting what that meant?

Jungwon let out a shuddering breath and tilted his head back against the wall, blinking up at the rafters until the blur of tears broke the lines apart.

He hated this.

Not you — never you — but the helplessness. The way love could feel so big and still not be enough to fix things.

“I thought I was more than a mistake you regret.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Not out loud. But once it slipped, it tasted true. And that terrified him. A tear rolled down the side of his face, catching on his jaw. He didn’t wipe it away.

He let it fall.

Because for the first time since meeting you, since killing the minotaur, since arriving at this camp and watching you from across the arena with his heart in his throat, he wasn’t sure where you two stood anymore.

He loved you. More than he’d ever said. More than he probably should. And gods, it hurt. It hurt that you were slipping through his fingers and he didn’t know how to stop it.

It hurt that he was starting to wonder if maybe love wasn’t enough.

And it hurt worst of all that even though he knew you were pulling away to protect you both, to survive the wrath of your mother, and the drowning rage of his father, part of him still felt like a boy on the shore, watching the tide steal everything he cared about.

So he curled his hands into fists, pressed them to his chest, and let the waves inside him crash, quietly, endlessly, for the girl who once swore she’d never let go.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

“Nice form today, Y/N.”

You turned at the sound of Nicholas’ voice, heart already racing before you even saw his face.

Nicholas, Hermes cabin. All charm, all mischief. The kind of camper who never took anything seriously except getting under people’s skin. You hated how he always smiled like he knew more than he should. Like everything was a joke to him, and this time, you were the punchline.

He leaned on the railing beside the water barrel, tapping his fingers idly. You could feel his gaze scraping over you, too casual.

“You’ve been a little distracted lately,” he said. “Something on your mind? Or… someone?”

You straightened your spine, jaw tightening.

“Spit it out, Nicholas. Whatever game you’re playing, I’m not interested.”

He tilted his head, smirking.

“I saw you the other night. By the lake, with Poseidon's son, looked… intimate.”

A cold weight dropped into your stomach. Your throat dried instantly.

You said nothing, but your silence said too much.

Nicholas caught it, like a vulture spotting blood.

“I mean, hey,” he continued, mockingly light, “who hasn’t had a little rendezvous in this camp, right? But rules are rules. And Athena’s daughter, of all people—”

“Shut up,” you snapped, harsher than intended.

His grin widened.

“Oh, I’m not judging. I think it’s cute, actually. But others? Well… they might not be as forgiving if the truth comes out. Especially when the guy in question is the boy of the prophecy.” He tapped his temple and stepped back, smug and infuriatingly calm. “Just a friendly tip: secrets don’t stay secret for long around here.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving his words to fester like poison in your mind.

You stood frozen in place, your breath shallow, eyes locked on the dirt beneath your boots as the weight of his insinuation wrapped around your chest like a vice.

And then, without thinking, you ran.

You didn’t stop until you reached your cabin.

Slamming the door behind you, you stood in the middle of the room, eyes wild, fists clenched, lungs desperate for air that didn’t seem to exist.

Everything was crashing down.

Everything you’d buried. Hidden. All the stolen kisses, the nights spent wrapped in his arms under the stars, the softest parts of you that only Jungwon had ever seen, all of it could be ripped away in an instant.

You couldn’t breathe.

You staggered back until you hit your desk, and then you were sliding to the floor, the sob escaping your lips before you could swallow it. It came out of nowhere, violent, raw.

You pressed a trembling hand to your mouth, trying to keep quiet. The daughter of Athena did not cry like this. Did not fall apart over a boy, no matter how good, no matter how kind, no matter how in love she was.

But it wasn’t just about him.

It was your pride. Your legacy. Everything your mother had molded you to be, sharp, brilliant, composed.

You were Athena’s pride.

The one who always knew the answer. The one who played by the rules. Who walked with her head high because she earned it.

And now?

Now you were a hypocrite. A traitor to your own name.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered into your knees, your voice cracked and desperate. “Gods, I don’t know what to do.”

You curled in on yourself on the floor, letting the panic crest and break over you like waves you couldn’t swim through.

What if someone told Chiron?

What if the gods already knew?

What if your mother — your mother — had already seen it in some cruel vision and was just waiting, disappointed, silent?

What if this love ruined everything?

And yet… you couldn’t let go of him.

Not when his voice still lingered in your ears. Not when your heart still beat his name with every breath.

“I love him,” you choked out, barely audible. “I love him, and I can’t stop.”

The cabin was silent except for your broken sobs.

You’d never felt so torn, between what you were expected to be, and what you wanted.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

You didn’t knock.

Jungwon’s cabin door creaked open under your trembling hand, and the moment you stepped inside, he was already standing. Shirt loose, curls mussed from tossing and turning in bed. He hadn’t been sleeping. You could tell.

His eyes widened the second he saw your face.

“Y/N—?”

“We have a problem,” you blurted, stepping in and shutting the door a little too hard behind you. “A serious problem.”

Jungwon’s heart leapt.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

You started pacing.

“No. No, I’m not okay. I’m freaking out.”

“Talk to me,” he said gently, stepping forward, but your hands went up between you.

“Nicholas knows,” you said, breath shallow. “He saw us. By the lake. I don’t know what he saw exactly, but he knows something. He’s already smirking at me like he’s got dirt to use. And it’s only a matter of time before—before he tells someone or it slips or—gods, Jungwon, this can’t happen.”

He froze.

“You’re sure?”

“I felt it,” you said, eyes wide and panicked. “In the way he looked at me. Like he was holding something over me. And I—” You trailed off, your voice beginning to crack. “I’m scared. I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do, and I’ve worked so hard to be good. To be worthy. And now it all might fall apart because I couldn’t stay away from you.”

He flinched, like the words stung more than you intended.

You didn’t mean it like that. But gods, it felt like that, didn’t it?

You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the first wave of tears threaten your vision.

“You don’t understand, Jungwon. I’m Athena’s daughter. I’m supposed to be better. Controlled. Above feelings. I’m not supposed to break like this. Not for a boy. Not even—” You swallowed hard. “Not even for you.”

That landed somewhere deep in him.

Jungwon’s chest rose and fell sharply. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the candlelight flickering across the tense set of his jaw.

“So… what?” he said, voice quiet but edged. “You regret this?”

“No,” you snapped, stepping toward him before you could stop yourself. “No, I don’t regret you. I regret that loving you makes everything feel so dangerous. Like I’m walking on a tightrope every second of the day.”

His eyes flicked over your face, searching for something, maybe the part of you that still wanted to run. Maybe the part that still belonged to the version of you your mother had carved out.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” you whispered, like it hurt to say aloud. “But I did. And now I feel like I’m suffocating. Like every day I’m waiting for it all to collapse.”

Silence followed, taut and raw.

And then Jungwon stepped forward, slowly, deliberately, until he was standing so close you could feel the warmth of his body.

“You think I don’t know that?” he murmured, voice tight with emotion.

You blinked, breath catching in your throat.

“I know your pride matters,” he continued, softer now. “I know your mother matters. Your legacy. Everything you’ve worked for. But I’d give up everything I am if it meant I didn’t have to watch you look at me like this — like I’m something you have to hide.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks then, warm and silent.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” you said, voice cracking. “I’m ashamed of how much I need you.”

His breath hitched.

The air between you felt electric, your pain mingling with his until it became indistinguishable. A mess of fear and want and love, too much love, pressed tightly between your chests.

You didn’t think, couldn’t.

You just reached for him.

The kiss that followed wasn’t soft.

It was desperate.

Your mouth crashed into his with a kind of aching hunger, your hands sliding into his hair, gripping like you needed to collide yourself to him completely or drown. He gasped into you, a small sound of surprise that melted into something deeper when your lips opened beneath his. Jungwon's arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. His kiss was fire, slow and steady and building, like it had been waiting, simmering, and now it couldn’t be stopped. But his addictive taste was the same as always, yours.

You pulled him closer, felt the hard lines of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt, felt the way his breath stuttered when you whispered his name into his mouth.

“Y/N��” he murmured between kisses, voice thick, full of too much.

You pressed your forehead against his, eyes shut tight.

“I can’t lose you,” you whispered.

“You won’t.”

Another kiss. Deeper. Slower. His lips traced yours with reverence now, hands trailing up your back, cupping your face as though you were breakable and holy all at once. You tugged him backward toward the bed, your fingers laced in his.

And he followed, every inch of him trembling with restraint, devotion, and a need that had been buried too long.

“I want to stay,” you whispered.

He looked at you like you were the most precious thing the gods had ever made, his ocean blue orbes glistening, maybe from tears he was holding back, maybe from love, maybe from need and lust.

“Then stay.”

And as you fell into his arms again, heart pounding and lips seeking his, you weren’t Athena’s daughter or the camp’s golden girl or the girl who always followed the rules.

You were just his.

Everything else faded the moment he kissed you again, slower this time. Deep, careful, like he was memorising the shape of you, the way your lips parted for him with such natural ease. Jungwon’s fingers grazed your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly as his mouth trailed to your cheek, then your neck. You gasped when his lips found the spot just beneath your ear - the place he knew made your knees weak - the sensation lighting something warm and dizzying in your stomach.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmured against your skin. “Every night. What it would feel like to have you under me again. Just… you. Mine.”

Your breathing was shaky, legs trembling where they were tangled with his. Tilting your head so you could give him more space, you let your hands trail around his body, above the clothes, shaky fingers in his perfectly built figure.

“Jungwon…”

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. His expression had changed, darker, softer. Tender and commanding all at once. Not even with the lust taking over his whole body, the sweetness in the way he looked at you went away. And that's what got you even more worked up, what really got you about the way he touched and needed you.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered, brushing your hair from your face. “Tell me if it’s too much. We stop whenever you say.”

“I don’t want you to stop.” The words came out in a breath, trembling but true. “I’ve missed you too”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his chest heaving, like the need was too much, like the fear of losing you was too much.

“Okay,” he said softly, kissing your forehead. “Then let me take care of you.”

His touch grew more confident now, fingers skimming down your arms, your sides, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt like he’d dreamed of it a hundred times. His palms pressed to the skin of your ribs, and you squirmed under him, the touch sending a shiver through your whole body, every pore jumping like it knew you who you belonged to.

“Off,” he said gently, tugging your top. “Let me see you, my pretty girl.”

You nodded, heart pounding, and lifted your arms. He peeled the fabric away with reverence, like unveiling a secret. When his eyes met your bare skin, he let out a slow breath, even if he already saw you like this thousands of times, he always looked at you with the same glow in his blue eyes. You were left in your bra, and he didn't waste time before cupping your breasts with his hands, squeezing, never tough, just needy, like he couldn't believe you were his. A whimper left your mouth as you arched your back.

“Beautiful.” His voice was hoarse. “You always are, gods, I don’t think I’ll survive you.”

Your face burned, but he kissed the blush across your cheeks, your collarbone, your chest, like worship. Like you were sacred. He took his time undressing you, undoing each layer with soft kisses and careful hands, murmuring praise against your skin.

Once your pants dropped to the floor and you where left in your underwear, he bit his lip and hooked his fingers on the waistband, not pulling yet, just teasing himself and you. You were dripping, pooling wetness against the thin fabric, always so needy for him, for his touch.

Then he lowered his face, pressing soft kisses on your chest and abdomen.

“So pretty,” he whispered against your stomach. “So fucking perfect for me.”

And when he finally hovered above you, his hand cupped your cheek again.

“I want to make love to you,” he said, voice trembling now too. “Not just fuck you. Not tonight.”

Your eyes welled.

“Me too.”

He kissed you again, slower than before, hips pressing gently into yours. Every movement was deliberate, soft friction, just enough to make you ache, enough to make you reach for him. He was already hard beneath his pants, you felt him, familiar, thick, throbbing against you, and you rocked your hips too just to feel him more.

You felt his hand trail between your legs, until he reached under your panties, fingers slipping between your pussy folds with ease because he already knew every part of you. He watched you unravel beneath him, whispering your name as your breath hitched, soaking his digits with your wetness.

“You’re soaking, baby,” he murmured, eyes dark and full of want. “You want me this badly?”

“Please,” you whimpered. “I need you.”

He groaned softly and kissed your lips, your throat, your chest, until you were gasping and arching and begging. In one move he removed your bra, in the next second he slipped your panties out of you, throwing them on the floor. You were naked now, all for him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make you fall apart on me.”

You didn't respond, you couldn't, because he grabbed your knees, strong but still gentle, spreading you just for him, blue eyes fixated in your dripping pussy, and then shoved two fingers inside of you. A soft moan left your plumped lips, your back arched again as he curled them inside of you just perfectly, as always, because he knew how much you liked it, and he groaned, thrusting them in and out of you with a slick, wet sound, until his knuckles disappeared between your tight walls.

"So perfect, so mine. Always"

“Gods, Jungwon—” you breathed, voice shaking.

He moved them expertly, fucking you with slow, deliberate thrusts, knuckles sinking deep as the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet of the room. His other hand stayed on your thigh, grounding you, while his mouth pressed against your stomach, your hip, your inner thigh, leaving kisses like promises.

“You take me so well, baby,” he murmured. “So tight, so perfect.”

Every word from him sent shivers down your spine. He wasn’t teasing, he wasn’t being cocky. He meant it. Every filthy, reverent word came from the deepest part of him, the part that only you got to see.

“Mine,” he whispered, curling his fingers again, right against that spot that made you cry out. “Always.”

You reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging gently. He looked up at you, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed.

And then he leaned in again, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, right where your skin was hottest, trembling, his breath brushing over your soaked folds before he pulled his fingers out with a slow, deliberate drag. You whimpered, your body instinctively following the loss. But before you could beg for more, he slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean with a soft groan, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“Can’t get enough of how you taste,” he said lowly, voice barely more than a rasp. “So sweet… always so fucking sweet.”

Your chest heaved, the air thick and heavy between you. Every touch, every word, every glance, it wasn’t just lust. It was something more dangerous. More consuming. More permanent.

He leaned back down, this time using both hands to spread you open, thumbs gliding over your folds, your clit swollen and throbbing with need. He looked reverent, like you were art, and he was both the sculptor and the worshiper.

“You’re shaking for me,” he whispered, his voice suddenly gentler again, one hand coming up to rest against your lower belly as he lowered his mouth.

Then his tongue flicked over your clit — just once — and your whole body jerked.

“Jungwon,” you gasped, fingers flying to his hair again.

“That’s it,” he murmured against you, tongue moving slowly, teasingly, just enough to make your hips buck. “This is how i love to see you.”

He licked you like he had all the time in the world, slow circles, open-mouthed kisses, soft sucks to your clit that made your thighs tremble around his head. Every now and then, he’d hum, sending vibrations through your whole core, and you could feel the smug curl of his lips when you gasped his name again and again.

You were already close. Too close.

“Please—” your voice cracked. “Please don’t stop.”

He didn’t. In fact, he doubled down, slipping one hand from your thigh and easing two fingers back inside you while his mouth never left your clit. The stretch was perfect. He knew your body too well, knew just how to angle them, curl them, fuck them into you until your body was arching and your moans were turning into broken sobs of pleasure, until you were leaking and dripping against his sheets.

“Feels good?” he whispered, voice soaked in heat and affection, eyes dark and heavy with love. “You gonna give it to me, baby?”

You nodded desperately, unable to form words.

“Do it,” he whispered, curling his fingers deep and sucking on your clit just right. “Be a good girl and come on my mouth.”

Your whole body tensed, then unraveled as you cried out his name, trembling under his touch, his mouth never leaving you as he worked you through every wave of it.

By the time you came down, your limbs were boneless, your heart pounding, tears slipping from your eyes, not from pain or fear, but from everything you felt all at once.

Jungwon crawled up your body slowly, tenderly, kissing your skin on the way. When he reached your lips, he hovered just a moment, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

“You okay?” he whispered.

"Perfect." You smiled softly, and he pressed a wet kiss in your mouth.

His kiss deepened, warm and slow, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your mouth. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was how close he was, how real he felt against you, how your body ached to be his completely.

When you tugged gently at his shirt, he sat up on his knees above you, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The soft golden light from the lone lantern flickered against his skin, his toned chest rising and falling quickly, some scars still there from previous fights, lips parted, eyes dark. Beautiful. Yours. So, so yours.

Your fingers found his waistline next, fumbling with the buttons, breath catching as he leaned down and helped you, his forehead brushing yours with a quiet:

“I’ve got you.”

He pulled down his own pants, followed by his boxers, and he was bare in front of you. Your eyes glowed, his thick length against his lower belly, veins popping, needy, red tip, familiar and yours. A shiver went down your spine.

You whispered his name like a prayer, and he stilled for a moment, eyes searching yours.

“This time feels different,” he said softly. “Like… more.”

Your throat tightened.

“Because it is.”

You both knew it wasn’t the first time. There’d been late nights before, stolen hours where desire burned hot and fast, but this wasn’t just need. This was everything you were afraid to feel. Everything you were terrified to lose.

“I don’t want to hide it anymore,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“Then don’t"

You nodded, tears threatening again as he leaned down and kissed them away. Jungwon then grabbed his member, stroking himself a little, soft whimpers leaving his lips, before rubbing his swollen tip against your sensitive and dripping folds.

When he finally entered you, it was slow, so slow it made you cry out, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He stretched you so good, you could feel every vein, every inch of him against your clenched walls. He groaned against your neck, like the feel of you around him still overwhelmed him every single time.

“Gods, baby,” he whispered. “You feel like fucking heaven. Always so tight for me.”

You gasped as he bottomed out, your hips rising to meet him instinctively. He stilled there, his forehead pressed to yours again, letting you adjust. Letting you feel it, feel him, hot breath crashing with your face.

“You okay?” he asked, voice wrecked and low.

“Better than okay,” you whispered, brushing his hair back with shaking hands. “Please move.”

And he did.

He started thrusting gently, every motion slow and precise, like he was trying to make love to every part of your soul. His lips trailed across your jaw, down your neck, whispering praise between kisses.

“So good for me,” he murmured. “Taking me so well… like you were made for me.”

Your back arched, your body meeting his in perfect rhythm. It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t rushed. It was desperate in a different way, two people clinging to something they knew could shatter.

“Jungwon—” you breathed, your eyes locked on his.

He looked at you like you were divine. Like you were the most beautiful thing in every realm. He leaned down, his lips brushing yours.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he said, his voice breaking just a little. “Just for now. Even if we can’t be… just for now.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered back. “I’ve always been yours.”

The pace stuttered, his control slipping as he pressed his hips harder into you, chasing both your pleasure and his heartbreak. One of his hands found yours, fingers lacing together tightly. Anchored. Even fucking you like this, you could feel it, the deep love he felt for you, and that you felt for him. His thrusts were perfect, not too rough, but spot on, always, hitting places inside of you that made you clenche around his length even tighter and cry out his name, nails digging deep in his skin, but he didn't care, he just moaned in response, hips bucking against yours creating an obscene sound that sounded so romantic for you both.

The coil inside you start to wind again, tighter, sharper, deeper this time. Your breaths came quicker, your moans soft and shaky as his other hand reached down between you, rubbing your clit in perfect circles.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice strained. “Gonna come with me, baby? Let go for me?”

You cried out, clinging to him like he was the only thing left in the world, and when you fell apart this time, it wasn’t just your body, it was everything. Your heart, your pride, your fears, all unraveling in his arms. Your pussy clenched around him as the orgasm hit you, eyes shut and body trembling, shaking under him with so much force.

He followed with a broken groan, burying himself deep inside you as he came, spilling everything he had into you with a desperate whisper of your name, filling you so good and familiar, so warm.

After that, neither of you moved. The room was silent except for your ragged breathing, your trembling limbs tangled together in the quiet aftermath.

Then Jungwon leaned down, brushing his lips over your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered. “No matter what the gods say. No matter what we have to face.”

You didn’t answer, you just held him tighter, tears silently slipping down your cheeks.

The candle burned low. Only the faint flicker of flame lit the cabin now, warm shadows on the walls and in the curve of Jungwon’s jaw. He laid on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching you like you were the only thing left in the world worth looking at.

You were still lying beside him, tangled in the same blanket, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the constellation of tiny scars on his shoulder. The silence between you was comfortable… but it wasn’t light. It was heavy with the weight of everything you couldn’t keep ignoring.

You swallowed.

“Jungwon?” you whispered, not looking up.

“Hm?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

He waited, gaze fixed on you.

You inhaled slowly.

“About… everything. My mom. The rules. Camp. This—us.”

You finally lifted your eyes, and he sat up a little straighter at the expression on your face, not sad, not angry… just raw. Exposed. Real.

“All my life,” you started, voice steady despite the ache in your chest, “I’ve been told that pride is the root of wisdom. That it’s what separates us from chaos. From weakness. My mother always said I was her greatest creation — her ‘perfect daughter.’ I grew up thinking that meant I couldn’t make mistakes. That I had to be the best. Always.”

Jungwon didn’t speak. He only listened, his thumb brushing slow circles over your wrist.

“And for a long time, I thought love would ruin me,” you said. “Make me weak. I thought being with you — loving you — would destroy everything I worked for. Everything she was proud of.”

You sat up now too, holding the blanket against your chest, your eyes shining in the dark.

“But that was a lie,” you whispered. “A lie I let myself believe because I was scared. Because I thought if I chose you, I’d stop being who I was. But now I know… loving you hasn’t made me weak. It’s made me stronger.”

He let out a soft, shaky breath, like he’d been holding it the whole time.

“I don’t care if I disappoint her anymore,” you went on. “I don’t care if it makes me less of what she wanted. I want to be with you. Fully. No more secrets. No more shame.”

Jungwon reached for you immediately, pulling you into his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck. His heart was pounding hard against your ribs, and his hands were holding you like he was afraid you’d vanish.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, voice low and cracked with emotion.

“You have me,” you said firmly. “You always have.”

He pulled back just far enough to look at you, and his expression was nothing short of awe.

“Then let’s run,” he said suddenly, breathless. “Let’s run away.”

You blinked, stunned.

“Run?”

He nodded, eyes wild and full of wonder.

“Not forever. Just… for now. Just us. Away from the rules and the gods and the war they want to throw us into. We’ll find a place by the sea, somewhere no one knows us. And we’ll just be.”

You searched his face, your lips parting with the storm of feelings surging in your chest.

“Can we do that?” you asked softly, like a child asking for a dream.

“We can do anything,” he said. “As long as you’re with me. I’ll fight fate. I’ll fight Olympus. I’ll fight my own prophecy if I have to.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but they weren’t from fear this time. They were from the sheer, overwhelming gravity of his love.

You leaned in and kissed him, slow, deep, aching, like a vow.

And when you pulled away, your voice was no longer scared

“Then let’s run.”

You knew it then, it didn't matter anymore. You would fight the whole Olympus, your own mother, even yourself, for the clumsy boy that one came to camp without knowing how to swing a sword, for the boy who stole your heart with those dimples and soft voice, for the boy who belonged not only to the salt and sea, but to you.

as always, thank u so much for reading, this one took me a lot of time because i was so blocked, but got through it. i didn’t proofread so sorry for the mistakes <3

taglist: @gulicore @bussolares @vixialuvs @berryloveseunghan @lilifiedeans @m1kkso @usuallyunlikelyfox @jayjw16enxp @starfallia @bellsjakesgf @zuwishii @cutehoons02 @immelissaaa @nyxtwixx @kayjiguki @emisluvr @k1ttyjwon @cherrymaria58 @koizekomi @crysieberry @add-this-to-that @ii-mimii @luumiinaa @firstclassjaylee @elicheel @vintaegegirl @petalsofink @mariegibeau @tunafishyfishylike @kristynaaah @stercul1a @bl43bl00d @yazmike @yeonmuse @kryllea @e-r-i-15 @ashrocker123 @deluluscenarios @ziiao

[cosmotellurias]

oh, how refreshing it is to read the events of Riordanverse through the eyes of a proper adult (mentally) and a god (formerly) at that!!

these two paragraphs are the most important thing in the whole series I think

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

'As long as I live, you will be loved.'

☆▪︎♡° Oya goddess of wind and change has a daughter with Bruce Wayne. Not to mention most of camp halfblood falls for the young demigod? °♡▪︎☆

Dc x pjo crossover

Notes; not proofread and some characters might be a bit oc and reader is black or in this case mixed. So poc.

Warnings: mentions of stillborn child, miscarriages. Mentions of death and sickness.

***********

Oya Goddess of wind, storm, and change had never asked for anything.

Not even a silver piece of praise from the mortals or the gods and yet she was always praised.

Praised for her strength and independence. For her humility and kindness even when it wasn't necessary.

She didn't blink twice at other gods. Zues even admired her from afar.

Other gods watched in jealousy as her attention was focused on the mortals that she called her tribe.

She'd give them rain when the season was dry and give them prosperous vegetables when their soul was bare.

In return the mortals worshipped at her feet. No one daring to curse her name. Not out of fear but out of respect.

Because of her strength and wisdom her people and the gods had never thought she'd ever fall inlove. Much less have children.

Yet, they were sorely mistaken. The goddess of wind wanted nothing more then to have a child of her own.

To love and care for as she saw the mothers in her tribe do.

So she 'pretended' that she fell for the God of love's trick.

She'd bare the child of Eros happily as long as it was hers.

And all was well, her people threw gifts at her feet, happy that their goddess had something that made her feel complete.

That was until the child was born. Stillborn, not a breath in its chest.

And though the goddess was tired from birthing even in her weak state she knew that a baby was supposed to cry when born.

Her tribe barely survived the storms of that year. Heavy on heart she didn't dare try for another, for years.

A decade later she had another with another God.

Deciding that Eros was at fault that her first child hadn't survived. It was easier to blame him when he wasn't even their to bury their stillborn child.

Her second child was with Ares the strong God more faithful to her then the first. He worshiped her throughout her pregnancy.

But when the second child had died before she even birth it she pushed Ares away.

Never wanting to see him agian. And so he left. Deciding that if that's what she wanted he'd give her that.

Years became decades until decades faded into centuries. Yet, each child she birth had never survived.

The goddess mourned each one. Never forgot their names or the lives they were supposed to live.

She buried them near her home. And visited them daily.

Then one night she slept with a mortal. A supposedly good one.

Not something she was proud of but it helped pass the pain.

And Bruce didn't complain as the goddess found herself in his bed almost every night.

Though unplanned the goddess found herself carrying the mortals child she didn't tell the others gods like before.

She kept this one a secret. Not in fear of judgment, but just so she could mourn this one in silence.

She didn't want or need comfort when the unstoppable happened once agian.

She'd sing to the babe night after night. Trying to comfort it from the dreadful death that was bound to come for it.

She'd told it about its brothers and sisters waiting for it in the sky.

Her hands gentle caressing her bumb as she felt the baby move.

She vowed you'd be her last child. Knowing she couldn't bear to lose another after you.

"You'll be my gift to your siblings.." she promised decideding that if she couldn't give her children any of things she had. She would give them you.

Though bitter sweet she still felt possessive. Not wanting to let you go, though she knew it would happen.

Months passed and you grew in her stomach ,strong. But so did some of the others. She didn't dare hope.

But she did pray.

Then you were born, and she heard your beautiful cries like angels singing in her ears and she almost didn't believe it as she held you in her arms.

"So beautiful..." she whispered as she held you.

"Nothing will ever harm you....." she promised at night as she laid with you on her chest.

And once agian she was back to her joyful days. With the wind in her hair and you in her arms nothing could ever bring her down.

Her tribe worshiped her and loved you. For with you born the plants grew faster and in numbers. The weather was good and it had stopped flooding.

You were dressed in the finest cloth and your hair always with flowers.

Your skin was a bit lighter then your mother's due to who your father was so your mother gave you jewelry that complimented your skin.

You grew with the children in the village your small feet wanting to go anywhere they went.

Your mother smiled a sad thought that you would've done the same with your older siblings had they been alive.

You thrived in your tribe and loved your mother as she loved you. Not a day went by without your mother taking you to your siblings grave.

And when you understood what she was saying you babbled to them complete nonsense as if they were alive.

Your mother smiled as you remembered their names and your small hands touched their stones as if you were touching them.

"I see that she was never a gift I was to send you my children....but a gift you all sent me." Your mother whispered as she laid you down in bed one night.

Forever grateful you were hers.

You grew like a flower so fast atleast in your mother's eyes.....

Then you grew sick.

Far to fast and harsh to be a silly cold. You were three not understanding how to tell your mother you didn't feel so well.

She had the best doctors and nurses from everywhere try and figure out why you were hopelessly sick.

Word spread like fire in a forest that the Oya had a child.

Most gods filled with envy that she had a child with someone who wasn't them. Until they heard that the child was sick.

All ears perked up and all wings, boats ,and feet dashed to get to her. In hopes of helping her child and winning her favor.

But it was as clear as day why the child was sick when the gods saw the small child.

"I'm killing her?" Your mother whispers not wanting to disturb your sleep.

'Yes....' Zeus clarifies.

'She's not a pure blooded God. She's a demigod..... your not allowed to be in her life.' Athena whispers hands gently on your mother shoulders trying to ease her pain.

'No, this can't be...I just got her....'

'You have to let her go....or she'll die.' Eros the last person in the world your mother wanted to see right now says.

And though she'd rather beat him to a pulp them agree with him, she knew he was right.

So with tearful eyes and a heavy heart she sent her most trustful nymphs to check on your father.

Bruce Wayne.

She had cut off all ties with that man as soon as she knew she was pregnant with you. Deciding that he didn't need to bear the hurt of a dead child.

When the nymphs arrived they told your mother that he wasn't in good shape. A child of his own had just passed. Jason.

She remembers that boy vividly. She knew that she needed someone strong to raise you and a mourning father wouldn't do.

So she sent her nymphs out agian. And they found someone more.....suitable.

'She's an Amazon your majesty....she'll do until the child is old enough to go to camp.'

Your mother nodded having fought along side the Amazon women before and trusting them deeply despite her lack of knowledge of this specific woman.

'And she agreed?' Your mother ask. Watching you as you played in the flower filed. Though you were sick you still wanted to run and play so your mother let you...

Because she knew soon you wouldn't be here.

'Yes.' The nymphs reply.

'She leaves tomorrow....let me have this day with her....'

She spent the whole day with you. Holding you mesmerizing your touch. Your eyes the color and feel of your skin.

She'd miss you forever. Is all she thought about. She'd watch you from afar yes. But it'd never be that same.

'I give you this gift. It's my favorite thing in the world, other then you.' She mutters as she puts a necklace over your head.

You smile happily playing with necklace as your mother continues to hold you.

It's a gold necklace with a pendent of your mother symbol.

'And when the time is right....we will meet agian.' She whisper tears falling down her face as your little hands make haste to wipe them.

Though your mother rather not have them here alot of gods had shown up to send you on your way with gifts.

Though after everyone was down there was three who shocked everyone. Since they hardly ever gave their own children gifts, much less someone else's.

Ares steps up taking you from your mother's arms.

'To you, little one, I give the gift of strength. Let your strength be as strong as your heart. And let all your battles end with your victory.'

Your small eyes shinned with a dark blue light before it quickly disappeared.

The war God begrudgingly handed you over to Aphrodite silently wishing you were his to keep.

Aphrodite smiles as she holds you. Skin a lighter shade of your mother and almost mirroring your mother's reflection.

'To you, my dear I give the gift of beauty. May men and women gravel at your feet for your wit and beauty.'

The goddess smiles as your eyes turn a bright pink before it disappears agian.

The last one is Eros and your mother gives him a stern glare daring him to mess this up.

'You already have the beauty and the strength ,my love. So to you, I give the gift of love. May you never be without love. That all who meet you be smitten by your compassion and heart.'

Your eyes glow a deep red before the go back to normal.

Eros smiles as he hands you back to your mother. To say you will be loved would be an understatement he thinks to himself .

Your mother sighs a heavy and saddened breathe before kissing your head and giving you over to her trustful nymphs.

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

'Oya has entrusted you with her dearest trusure. Do not mess this up.' Your mother's nymphs warn handing Diana you.

You reach out for your mother's nymphs wanting them to take you back to your mother like they always have.

They give you a sad smile and wave before they disappear. You whine and reach out but their already gone.

'It's just you and me now.....' Diana whispers tucking your curly hair behind your ear.

Almost like you understand exactly what she meant you begin crying. Tears of fear and sadness fill your eyes and Diana's apartment echos with your sobs.

Your mother watches from a mirror that Zues had given her to see exactly where you are 24/7.

Your mother's tribes expected rain for the next few months or years. But none came..

Just big Grey clouds.

Like she didn't want the sun to shine if not with you. And it didn't.

In Gotham the rain flooded the streets matching your tears almost completely.

And Diana wondered if you had something to do with it. When you slept the rain stopped and when you cried so did the clouds.

She figured you'd have powers she just didn't know to what extent.

She did know one thing though. She promised to care for you like a mother would. And that's what she would do.

Time passed and though your mother's heart ached as she watch you forget her, your home and your siblings. She was happy you had stopped crying.

Even if her sorrow didn't.

And Diana loved you like a mother. Almost not wanting you to go to school for the first time.

You made friends quickly finding peace easy.

You grew in beauty, strength and love where ever you went as promised.

The years went and your mother never stopped watching you.

You grew up thinking your mother was Diana. And your mother didn't despise Diana for never telling you the truth.

She knew Diana cared for you as well and if thinking that Diana was your mother is what was best for you then she'd happily sit in sorrow for eternity waiting to face you once more.

Your powers grew to be unstable. Wind bending at your will and storms conveying to your emotions. You were quick to learn how to defend with a sword like breathing.

Diana taught you what she could. She taught you all that she'd known. But eventually you had become better then her.

She admired your strength and it wasn't long until she made you her sidekick.

But fate had interviened and whether your mother planned it or not you were bound to meet your father.

You were ten when you first saw him. You didn't think much of him just surprised you'd actually get to meet batman.

But Bruce the ever knowing genius he was knew there was something diffrent about you.

He didn't comment on it. Scared he was wrong. Like his head was playing tricks on him.

He kept you close when he could. Asking you questions even asking Diana questions. But she'd never tell him the truth.

You on the other hand told him what you thought was the truth.

That you got your powers from Diana since you were part Amazon like her. Atleast that's what you thought.

You met Tim back then and kinda of clicked. It was a sweet bond you to shared. Nothing romantic, just natural.

As your powers grew monster began coming. You didn't notice it at first. Far to busy with school and friends and being a hero.

But Diana did.

She kept it hidden from you. Killing monsters out of sight.

And when you asked about that demon monster she'd been caught fighting in the news? She'd say it was just another villian.

Eventually the monsters got to powerful. To many in numbers and Diana knew it was time to take you to the camp.

It was your last day on patrol before you and Diana went on your 'family trip'.

You and Tim had sat on a rooftop talking about anything and everything when batman showed up.

His all black suit doing nothing to hide him from your senses.

'Hey batman.' You say waving as he makes himself know.

And Bruce doesn't know why he's never noticed but as he steps closer in the dim moonlight something shimmers on your neck.

A necklace.

Bruce would remember that necklace no matter how long its been.

It was your mother's....

Your head tilts confused to why he's staring at you but he makes not comment about it.

'Everything okay?' You joke smiling.

'Everything's fine....' Bruce mutters back his eyes snapping to meet yours...

Well if what he was thinking was true he did have some of your blood at the batcave from where you had gotten hurt to check your DNA.

'Tim we need to go home.'

'But she's leaving for the summer! Can't I stay for a little longer?!' Tim whines dramatically.

'No, this is.....serious.'

Tim's sighs before waving goodbye reminding you to text him.

You wave a big smile on your face as you make your way back home. Excited for your vacation.

Only to see Diana absolutely freaking out.

Her usually perfect hair is a mess and her hands quickly throw your clothes in a suitcases.

'Mom, what's wrong?' You ask.

She completely ignores you as she grabs your hand pulling you out the apartment locking the door.

She rushes you to her car throwing your suitcase in the trunk.

She quick to get as far away from the apartment as possible.

'Your hurt.....' You comment seeing a fresh scar on her cheek.

'I'm fine.' She replies.

You hum seeing her tense face.

'Mom....what's going on?' You ask not being able to stop yourself.

'We... we just had to get out of there.'

'Why not fly?'

'They can track us better in the air.' Diana says not thinking twice before mentally cursing herself for it.

'What can track us? Mom, what's tracking us?' You ask.

Diana was never one to run from a fight so you were definitely scared of whatever was tracking you guys.

'Baby, there's alot that you don't know... In your suitcase there's a note a letter from me. I wan't you to read it once we get there.'

You look at her confused not understanding why she couldn't just tell you now.

She doesn't turn to face you but you can see the tears that cloud her vision as she drives.

You think it's from fear, but it's not.

It's from sorrow. Sorrow of leaving you.

You don't speak for hours. The silence heavy on your worried heart as you stop at forest when Diana tells you to get out.

'Why are we here ,mom?' You question taking your suitcase from her hand. Then you notice it.

She didn't pack anything for her.

'Your not coming....are you?' You ask. Your voice small and scared.

'Think of this like a summer camp ,baby.'

You want to shrink. To hide. Or more importantly.

To go back home.

You can feel it. Something isn't right. It feels like all eyes are in you. Like your on the center of a stage and you don't know the script.

This isn't right.

'I want to go home.'

'Not right now ,baby..' Diana sighs cupping your face and tears want to fall from her eyes so bad but she doesn't allow them.

'Follow that trail... you'll be safe.'

She points to a long dirt trail and you turn to look at it before looking back at her.

She doesn't have the heart to tell you your not hers. That you never were.

That's she has no right to keep you. That she has no idea what's in those woods.

But that look in your eyes makes her want to puke. That helpless look. That scared look that you had when your mother's nymphs gave you to her.

She gets in her car.

'I'm scared.' You say your hand bunched into fist and she's seed it.

She does.

You want the truth. You deserve the truth.

But the truth was never her's to tell ,and you were never her's to keep.

'Just truth me.'

She says and you do.

Blindly you do.

Because she's your mom. She knows what's best right?

You nod one hand nervously fiddling with your nails while the other clutches your suitcase tight.

She puts the car into drive and looks away from you knowing she can't look at you as she leave.

'I love you ,mom.' You say your chest uneasy.

'I love you too.' She says as her foot hits the gas.

Though she knows it'll hurt she still looks at her mirror to make sure your walking down the trail.

Just like that you lose your second mother.

You walk down the trail and if you weren't so scared and nervous you would've thought it was nice.

Until you hear a scream that sounds like death. You almost chase after it, your hero instincts wanting to help.

But something deep inside of you tells you that whatever that is doesn't need help.

It's night by the time you see the camp.

The sky illuminated by the moon its a beautiful camp. Something that looks straight out of a movie.

Cabins all around but everyone seems to be asleep.

You knock on the big canines that says 'Camp Councilor' but no one opens.

Shame, you'll just have to sleep outside for tonight.

But there's no way your going to sleep on the ground.

The last thing you want to do is fight a bear in the middle of the night.

So you sleep in a tree hoping that all the dangerous animals are to tired to climb.

*****The week before at camp halfblood.*****

The clouds thundered and the sky was dark. As the Storm brewed all campers were inside.

No one seen when the new cabin appeared.

It was just there.

Like the wind brought it in.

'Who's symbol is that?' Percy asked his voice confused and slightly amused at the knew cabin.

'Oya, the goddess of the wind and storm ,or well change.' Annabeth replies.

All the campers gathered around the new cabin excited and some worried.

There's never been a new cabin before.

Smaller gods had there's kids stay with the Hermes kids not being 'good enough' for their own cabin.

So this God must've been special.

'Oya must be pretty powerful to get her kids a whole cabin.' Grover remarks as he watches some of the other campers try to look in the cabin or even open the door.

'Yeah, she is...but she's said to never been able to have kids.' Annabeth replies.

Percy however moves to try and open the door.

'It won't budge.' Percy whine jiggling the handle.

'That's right it won't.' Chrion says smiling as he takes in the big luxurious dark oak wood cabin.

'Why not?' Annabeth mutters.

'Oya had especially made this cabin for her daughter. Only she will decide who gets to enter.' Chrion replied shrugging.

'Not even you can get in?' Grover ask.

'Not even me.' Chiron clarifies.

'Wait this whole cabin is for one demigod?!' The other campers ask amazed. This was bigger then Percy's cabin.

Chiron nods smiling at the other campers jealousy.

'Well whoever she is I can't wait to see how strong she is.'

'Yeah, or how smart she is.'

'Guys can't we all be friends for once?'

****************Current day*******************

Diana walks back in her apartment the rooms feeling empty.

Your room feels empty.

'We need to talk.' Bruce voice makes her jump. How long had he been there?

He sits on her couch comfortably.

Not in his suit. Not batman. Just Bruce.

'Not now Bruce.' Diana replies motioning towards the door with her hand.

'Where is she?' Bruce ask his gaze looking over her. Noticing her tired expression. The cut on her cheek. Noticing the sadness.

'Who?' Diana ask playing along.

Bruce clears his throat fixing his tie and sitting forward.

'Let me refraze that.' His voice husky and cruel. Not Bruce.

Batman.

'Where is my daughter?'

Thanks for reading!!

Likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

Who Ares, Aphrodite, and Eros felt like giving reader those gifts.

[matchanon]

mydei misses you

he misses the way your fingers tangle in his hair, he misses the way you’d take his side braid and tickle his chin with a soft laugh, he misses the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, he misses laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat thud softly against his ear, he misses making you soft pancakes in the quints of the entry hour

he misses you so badly he can almost see you, a ghost in his peripheral vision as he tears through another horde of black tide abominations, their blood paint the structures of castrum kremnos black and red, which just makes your ghost all the more flaring amidst it all

there is no rest against the black tide, five monsters replace every single one he kills, their filthy blood desecrating the grounds of castrum kremnos and mixing with the ichor of his veins

mydei’s fermur, shoulder, and right lung regenerates in the breath it takes for him to sink his teeth in the throat of a particularly feisty creature and rip his head off, the blood in his mouth burns through his tongue and throat viciously, but mydei doesn’t stop

the demigod of strife straightens up and casts his gaze over the next monsters approaching, his gaze is cold and blistering, the very incarnation of carnage itself

in the corner of his eye, he sees you smiling at him

mydei misses you

[just-another-personal-side-blog]

On the hunt for some Maui x Reader fics. Any recommendations?

[luxthestrange]

RoR Incorrect quotes#183 Baby Fever

Do you THINK Hades is gonna stop at ONE baby?... YOU WISHED-

Your Eldest son came to visit from his boarding school...to find out his father felt empty nest syndrome the five minutes he left...and now your...very much pregnant-

Y/n*Smilling seeing your son after months* It's okay. You've been busy, Point is, you're here today. Now, give your mama a hug!~

Teen!Son*Gives you a weak one-armed hug*Oh, yeah, okay-

Y/n*grimly, pupils becoming smaller* I spent thirty-seven hours squeezing you out of my body, and this is what I get?

Teen!Son: O-Oh, I just didn't want to—

Y/n*threateningly*Give your mother a hug

Teen!Son*nervously with a squeaky voice nods* Okay.

You and him share a tight, warm hug

Part 2 of:

[umeumeumee]

fault is false II

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- clarisse la rue x daughter of aphrodite! reader

synopsis: after clarisse lashed out so cruelly, she debates on how to win you back— but faces difficulty— especially when you refuse to have anything to do with her.

authors note: hi guys.. sorry this is probably a year late.. i completely forgot about tumblr! anyways.. i’m so happy to see that so many of you enjoyed part 1! here’s part 2! enjoy <3 (part I here)

Clarisse had been rotting in her guilt for days.

Marinating in anguish of her own decisions and suffering the consequences of her actions. she couldn’t breathe.

clarisse was well aware how upset you would be with her, no doubt she was expecting a shove off and a bit of attitude from you— but no, you’ve been blowing her off completely.

You were very hurt by her words, but something else burned inside you. A flame of anger. You currently despised charisse- even if you truly did love her deep down, you couldn’t stand to be in the same room of her.

the daughter of ares had tried relentlessly to apologize for her cruel words and poor decision, but her apology was shot through deaf ears. having being blown off by you for days, she was fed up. Her heart was swollen with desire for you, she needed you to forgive her, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go without you.

she stayed up at night with the regret chewing her skin raw, replaying how she acted and what she said, regretting her actions and even more so her words.

Being ghosted by you was something she, frankly, never thought she’d have to worry about. She was one for unkind words, it’s not the first time she’s spoken cruelty to you— just.. not specifically about you, to your face.

Her once unshakable confidence and snarky demeanor was shattered into millions of pieces , scattered where the trail of your friendship had been. The dining hall, the sparing arena, her bedroom— everywhere she stood unshakable with you beside her was now filled with a deep , itching sense of regret and anger.

She was pissed, to be frank. At herself, but also; at you. Who did you think you were? ignoring her? acting like she didn’t exist? It made her unbearably angry— uncomfortable.

Her thoughts were in a whizz.

The sound of her spear being slammed into another campers shield was loud enough to break her from her temporary trance— her eyes flickering to the now fallen boy on the floor, glaring up at clarisse. oops.

“What’s wrong with you?” the boy, Allo, son of Artemis, barked at her, standing up. Clarisse felt a vein poke from her forehead, her composure that was barely there to start with was now almost completely gone.

“What’s wrong with me?” she bit back, slamming her spear into the floor “What’s wrong with you? You’re the son of Artemis and you can’t handle a bit of a fight?” she snapped, her voice raising.

Allo scoffed, mumbling something about her being an ass before he dropped his shield onto the ground as well, successfully passive-aggressively falling onto her spear, before he made a face at her and left.

Clarisse bit her tongue, closing her eyes and taking a breath- she couldn’t wring his neck, no. at least.. not here.

her thoughts quickly drifted away from the irritating situation and back to you, of course. Your face clouding her mind. yes, there is absolutely no doubt that she was pissed , pissed at you— but… she wasn’t. she was just… she didn’t know how she felt.

Clarisse bent down to pick her spear up, her head elsewhere.

She’d never thought about her feeling of you— or, for you. she never put much thought into how jealous she was, or how much your validation and attention meant to her. how your words and praises made her feel so good.

that’s just how she was, right?

Clarisse placed her spear back into the weapon holder, removing her breastplate and placing it over the hook alongside the other armor, her feet dragging her to the dining hall, signaled by the lunch bell.

her dark brown eyes quickly scanned the vicinity , and immediately found you. You sat with Percy , as well as grover and annabeth, the group chatting amongst each other, and you occasionally chiming in, though… she noticed how upset you looked, how hurt you were. And, that familiar feeling of regret chewed her chest out, because no matter how much she covered her guilt with anger and blame, she knew your expression was her fault.

She scoffed, looking away; filling her lunch tray up with food, though she was the last thing but hungry. She wanted to desperately talk to you- not matter how much she denied the fact she wanted to, but she knew it was no use, you’d brush her off like you did the last few times— and she was not going to… beg for you.

she wasn’t.

no matter how badly she wanted to.

—

You poked your food, percy and his friends chatting away about some quest they were going to sneak out to do.

Normally, you’d be super invested and obviously guide them to, you know— not to do that, but.. you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Clarisse’s hurtful words stabbed your soft heart like a dozen of tiny little needles having a birthday party in your most fragile organ.

You were beyond upset, her face , her words— the won’t stop replaying. she basically called you a whore. She basically called your siblings whores, your mother. It was so.. wrong. so mean. but.. you couldn’t help but want to amend, to just pretend it never happened, to shove it down and go back to normal.

You knew that that wouldn’t happen anytime soon though. You knew she was upset at you— which just made you even more upset. You loved clarisse. You did; no matter how much you wanted to desperately deny it, deny how you were in love with your stupid.. asshole friend.

the worst part is, you knew she loved you back.

It wasn’t something that was big fat secret, no matter how much she wanted to deny: Everyone knows clarisse is too busy to do relationships, and too scared to acknowledge her feelings.

You heard the familiar chatter of her voice, your eyes automatically flickering up to find her , sitting at her usual table surround by siblings and friends. you could see she was bothered, and you knew she was upset about the whole situation, but too mighty to admit to it. you scoffed under your breath, standing up.

the group you sat with looked to you as you stood grabbing your tray, “I’m gonna go,” you said, smiling at them “let me know how your plan goes, okay?” you said, to which they bid farewell to you, and you scattered off to place your tray elsewhere and back to your room, where you can sulk in peace.

clarisse watched you go, her eyes following you like a key in a lock, her body itching to follow you. to mend— to.. apologize.

she bit the inside of her cheek, chewing it. she shouldn’t. she wouldn’t. she was too proud.

…

fuck it.

clarisse stood up, leaving the table without a word, leaving her tray behind as she followed after you.

what was she doing? following you like a damn dog. shit. she was pathetic.

she quickly caught up, grabbing your arm before you could open the door to the Aphrodite cabin.

she hated how she relished in the feeling of your skin on hers.

She watched as you turned around; apon the realization it was her, you tugging your arm from her grasp. she bit a scoff.

“what?” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

The cold seeped into clarisses fingers, even through the sleeves she had pulled over her hands. You two stood beneath the sun, even if it was cloudy, it’s never felt so cold before. The distant chatter of other campers was nothing but background noise, nothing in the face of your own little silence—sharp and heavy, like glass about to break.

clarisse kept her eyes on the ground. Her breath came out in clouds, white against the yellow of the sun. She hated this. Not the silence—the waiting. She knew what she had to say. She just couldn’t make her mouth move. Her pride clung to her like armor, welded tight across her chest.

You were silent as well, your arms folded, yo ur eyes downcast, not looking at at clarisse, but thinking about her— that only made it worse. made it hardee’s

Clarisse had always been sharp. She knew how to protect herself—with sarcasm, with distance, with fire when needed. She had spent years building herself like that, brick by careful brick. And then you showed up , and didn’t ask her to take it all down. you just looked… at her in a way that made it hard to keep pretending the walls were comfortable. That Mira was comfortable inside them.

And—god, clarisse knew she’d been cruel

she shifted on her feet, heart pounding. Her mouth felt dry. The words were right there—but every time she got close to saying them, something inside her recoiled. If she apologized, it meant admitting that you mattered. That she’d hurt her. That what she felt—this mess of affection and fear and something terrifyingly close to longing—was real.

She wasn’t good at real.

Still, you hadn’t walked away. clarisse had half expected you to storm off, or worse, say something kind and final. But she just stood there, quiet, giving Mira space to be brave.

clarisse took a deep breath. “I was... mean,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t respond, not right away.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said.” Mira’s eyes flicked to her, then away. “You didn’t deserve that. any of that..”

Silence again. clarisse pressed her teeth into her bottom lip. That should be enough. It was an apology, wasn’t it?

But it didn’t feel like enough. Not for this.

“I…” clarisse hesitated. The next words felt like stepping off a ledge. “I get.. i don’t know.. upset sometimes. When people get close. It’s not you, it’s me being—” She shook her head. “Scared. Of how I feel. About you.”

you juiced.

“clarisse— i.. know you senile with words,” i said causing the girl to bite a scoff “But what you said, isn’t so easily forgivable— you— you can’t just expect me to forgive you for what you said and act like nothing is wrong,” i told her.

clarisse sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I know,” she said in a bite “but i’m trying, okay?”

“try harder, then,” i retorted , still not facing her. she scoffed at that.

“I.. ugh. fine. Just.. listen, okay? i’m..” she sighed again..

That finally made you look at her, was she actually going to say what you thought?

“.i…” fuck. should she say it? she didn’t want to— she shouldn’t.. but..

“I like you,” Clarisse finally said, each word like pulling teeth.

The air between you two seemed to shift. your face be and less upset—your eyebrows drew together not in anger, but in something gentler. Compassion, maybe.

Relief.

“You could’ve just said that,” you said in a mumble, letting your arms unfold and fall to your sides.

Clarisse scoffed, breathless and sharp. “Yeah, well. I suck at saying things.”

you turned toward her fully now, stepping a little closer. “You’re doing fine.”

clarisse blinked. “You’re not mad?”

“I was,” you admitted. “i still am— and.. what you said was.. really mean, and i was really hurt. but... I get it. I know you’re not used to this.”

clarisse felt the weight in her chest shift, not vanish, but lighten. “I’m trying.”

“I know,” you said. “thanks for trying.”

clarisse looked at you—really looked—and this time, she didn’t look away. The cloudy sun cast a soft glow over your face, your eyes a warm kind of steady. There was no sadness or anger in them now. Just patience. Hope.

And for the first time, clarisse felt like she could breathe again.

[starksweasley]

— Battle Wounds

(pairing) Percy Jackson x Reader

(summary) In which you and Percy are bone-deep in love, and too reckless to admit it until blood, monsters, and a near-death confession force your hands.

(word count) 1.7k+

You’re best friends. That’s all.

That’s what you tell yourself when Percy yanks you behind him during battle, his arm thrown out like a shield and his fingers gripping your wrist so tight they leave angry, red fingerprints in his wake. The kind that linger long after the monsters are gone. You try to shake him off—every time—and every time, he doesn’t budge. His stance stays rooted like a storm-hardened tree, broad shoulders squared, jaw clenched, eyes scanning for the next threat like he’s daring the world to try and get through him first.

And gods, does it piss you off.

Because you’re just as trained. Just as fast. Just as deadly. But to him, you might as well be a porcelain doll. It’s like he’s convinced you’ll shatter if someone so much as breathes wrong in your direction. But when the dust settles, when the adrenaline thins into a dull buzz beneath your skin and your limbs start to tremble with the sting of impact, he’s always there. His palm finds the back of your neck with the surety of a ritual, like he’s grounding himself just as much as he’s anchoring you. His thumb strokes small, steady circles into your skin, not saying a word as his sea-glass eyes flicker over every inch of your face.

“Hey,” he’ll say, too soft for a battlefield. “You okay?”

He always asks like he’s bracing for the worst, like your answer might gut him.

And you always lie and say, “Yeah, just a scratch.”

Then there’s the way he wipes the grime from your face. Not with a sleeve or a rag. With his fingers. He steps in close and brushes your cheek with his thumb, slow and deliberate. His gaze never leaves yours, and the silence that follows is always deafening. Sometimes he smiles afterward. Sometimes he just nods, solemn. But every time, your heart trips over itself in your chest like it’s forgotten how to beat.

You try to pretend you don’t notice when his hand grazes the small of your back as you walk, or when he steadies you with a warm touch at your elbow. Or when he tucks your hair behind your ear with that maddening gentleness because your helmet strap keeps snagging it. He doesn’t do that with anyone else. Just you.

But you’re best friends. That’s all.

So you ignore the goosebumps. You ignore the flutter in your ribs every time he says your name like it’s sacred.You ignore how he always leans toward you like he’s not quite done being close.

You ignore the fact that you’re completely, irrevocably in love with him.

And you think maybe you’re hiding it well.

Until today.

The mission was supposed to be simple. In and out. Track down a rogue dracaenae just past the border of Camp Half-Blood. Eliminate her. Return in time for dinner and maybe a few burnt s’mores around the campfire.

You should’ve known better.

“Why are there three of them?” you shout, diving sideways as a spear rips through the air where your torso had been a second before. You roll behind a tree, heart hammering in your chest.

“I don’t know!” Percy’s voice cuts through the chaos, hoarse and annoyed. “Maybe they multiplied!”

“That’s not how dracaenae work, Seaweed Brain!”

“Well excuse me, Professor!”

Branches snap somewhere behind you. The hissing grows louder. You pop up from cover and hurl your dagger with practiced precision. It lodges deep into the shoulder of one of the snake-women. She barely flinches. Her glowing yellow eyes narrow, slitted pupils locking onto you with murderous intent.

“Percy,” you bark, backing up fast. “A little help?!”

“On it!”

He launches Riptide with a practiced flick, and it arcs through the air in a blur of celestial bronze, slicing clean through the monster’s neck. She crumples into golden ash before her body even hits the ground.

You barely have time to breathe. Another dracaenae lunges. Her forked tongue flicks. Her fangs gleam with venom. She’s fast. But Percy is faster.

You’re yanked off your feet and slammed into the grass as Percy tackles you down just as the spearhead whistles past the spot where your heart had been a heartbeat ago. You land hard, your spine jarred by impact, limbs tangled beneath his. He’s heavy against you and his breath comes out in pants at your temple. You can feel the frantic thud of his heart as if it's trying to jump out of his chest.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice low and trembling.

“No, you idiot,” you groan, shoving at his chest. “That was my fight!”

“You’re welcome for saving your life!”

“You’re not invincible, Jackson! What if she’d stabbed you instead?!”

“Then maybe you’d finally listen when I say stop charging into danger without thinking!”

“You do it all the time!”

“Yeah, for you!”

You both freeze. The air hums with tension. Neither of you says anything for a second too long.

Then the last monster snarls and barrels toward you, claws extended. The moment breaks like glass. You scramble to your feet, shoving at Percy’s shoulder to move faster. You both leap into the fray at once. Your blade slashes, his water blasts in a tidal wave. The dracaenae screeches.

She goes for you. Percy shoves you out of the way and takes the hit instead. You barely think as the monster’s teeth sink into the boy’s arm. 

“Percy!” you scream as he crumples, a spray of red blooming across his sleeve.

Something inside you ruptures. You don’t think. You just move.

You launch yourself at the monster with a scream that tears through your throat. You drive your dagger down into her again and again and again until all that remains is golden dust floating through the air.

The forest stills suddenly. Too quiet.

You stumble to Percy’s side, knees hitting the dirt as you grab at him with shaking hands.

“Why?” you whisper, barely able to speak. “Why do you do this?”

He winces as he props himself up on his uninjured arm. “Because I care about you!”

Your throat tightens. “Well, I care about you, too! But you don’t see me jumping in front of fangs like a damn idiot!”

His jaw flexes. “You do it all the time!” The same words you spit out earlier echo in your ears.

You glare at each other. The tension crackles like lightning between you, thick and suffocating. It’s not just anger. It’s something deeper. Something raw. You find a quiet patch of mossy ground beneath the trees and tell him to sit down before he keels over. He grumbles under his breath the whole time.

“Stupid monster… shouldn’t’ve let you out of my sight…”

“I’m not your responsibility,” you snap, dabbing at the gash with shaking fingers.

“You are,” he says, too fast. Then he flinches. “I mean—I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Then how did you mean it?” you ask, voice quiet, afraid to meet his eyes.

He doesn’t respond.

You press the bandage into place and sit back on your heels, throat thick with unshed words. “Are you mad at me?” you ask softly.

His head whips toward you. “What? No—”

“You keep looking at me like I did something wrong.”

“I’m just—” He exhales hard and drags a hand down his face. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at this whole stupid mission. And myself. And the monsters. And—” His voice cracks. “I thought I might lose you.”

Your heart stumbles.

“I’m fine,” you say, but your voice is barely audible.

“But you almost weren’t! You could’ve died. I saw that thing going for you and—gods, I couldn’t breathe.”

You look away, blinking fast. “You always act like you have to save me.”

“Because I want to save you!” His voice rises, rough with emotion. “Because every time you get hurt, it feels like something inside me shatters and I don’t know how to fix it!”

You blink.

And he stops.

Silence.

Then you say it.

“I love you.”

The words fall out before you can catch them. The forest holds its breath.

“What?” he breathes, stunned.

You swallow. “I love you, Percy. I think I’ve been in love with you since you first tackled me into the lake during training and apologized by giving me a friendship bracelet made of seaweed.”

His mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again.

“You… you love me?”

“I do.”

And gods, your eyes sting. You think he’s going to laugh. Or say you’ve ruined everything. But instead, he reaches for you like it’s instinct, cradling your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

“Look, all I’m trying to tell you i—oh god, no, please don’t cry.”

You laugh, watery and hiccupping. “I’m not crying because I’m sad.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“Because this is the worst confession scene in history. We’re covered in blood. You’re yelling. I think I’m having a breakdown.”

Percy snorts. “It is kind of a mess.”

You sniff. “Fits us though.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It really does.”

Then he says it. It’s like a vow, soft and sacred.

“I love you too.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he admits, voice low. “I just… didn’t want to ruin us. I thought if I told you, you’d run.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips hover a breath from yours. And when he kisses you, it’s like the whole forest exhales around you. Like even the trees were waiting.

Later, you sit nestled in the grass, his back against a tree, your head tucked into the crook of his shoulder. His fingers trace lazy circles into your knee. You’re twirling a frayed thread from his shirt around your index finger.

“Think the others will freak out?” you murmur, lips brushing his collarbone.

“Definitely,” he says. “Annabeth owes me five drachmas, by the way.”

“What?”

“She bet I’d never grow the courage to tell you.”

You laugh. “You didn’t. I told you.”

“Semantics,” he mutters, grinning against your hair.

You fall quiet. The wind rustles the canopy above. Birds chirp. His breathing evens out.

Then he says it again, like he wants to memorize how it feels on his tongue: “I love you.”

You close your eyes.

“I love you too.”

And for once, there are no monsters. No missions. No fear.

Just you and him. Together.

Exactly where you’ve always belonged.

[heartsongss]

prologue.

platonic yandere batfam. pjo crossover. tbr love interest.

masterlist

You’re nine, when your mom dies. Joker gas, the officials say. Your mother, a woman as flighty as a bird, presses gentle kisses to your cheeks as she whispers to you, “Your father will take care of you. He is a good man, kardia.”

You only nod. She is your mother, a living ghost who darkened your mom’s doorstep with wine for your mother and an inappropriate toy weapon for you. You trust her more than life itself. You let her fuss with your (h/c) hair, wiping your tears idly as she tells tales of your father.

As you hear sudden footsteps approach, she winks at you. Her bright eyes glimmer with joy as she presses a small pearl bracelet into your hands. You look at her, (e/c) eyes glittering with tears as she coos at you.”

“Mother loves you, kardia. We’ll meet again, when… when you can no longer hide.”

There is sorrow, in her voice as she says that. Still, you can’t mull on it for long until she vanishes, gone in a swirl of pink mist just as an old man turns the corner, a police officer by his side.

He’s thin, as some elders are. His eyes are wise and knowing, as if a single look lets him see your hear bared to him like a lamb’s neck to the slaughter. He softens when he sees you, shoulders slumping and hands shaking by his side.

He walks closer, kneels at your side, and asks, “Master (Y/N), I presume?”

You giggle, despite it all. His eyes widen slightly, a soft pink glimmer overtaking his eyes just for a moment. It fades just as quickly as it came, and he offers you a hand, “Let’s be going, then. I’m sure you’re tired.”

You nod, still shy, and take it. The officer sees you off, waving as you’re herded gently into a fancy car. As you play with your mother’s bracelet and the grimy, cold gothic streets fly pass, you see Batman in the distance. He’s grappling by Robin’s side, flying further into Gotham’s heart.

You think it’s a good sign; if your Mother says he’s good, this nice old man does too, and you see Batman? You’re sure your father will be just as incredible as they say he is.

Nine years later, with a body covered in scars and tired, grief-filled eyes, you sit at your vanity and stare at yourself. This time last year, you’d be attending camp. Now, though, there was nothing for you. As much as you hated it, Gotham was safe from him.

You’d take being ignored over being smothered.

[ninisdollie]

Side quest - Lee Heeseung 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ .demigods series

Synopsis Lee Heeseung, son of Ares, is known for his violence and cruelty at the halfblood camp. He mocks the newcomers and enjoys tormenting those he deems weak. His attitude sparks your hatred, you not only despise his aggressive nature but also see him as a threat to the peace of the camp. You both deeply loathe each other. However, when you two are sent together on a dangerous quest, your relationship begins to change.

Content: +18MDNI fem! reader x heeseung, pjo au! ares' son! heeseung x aphrodites daughter! reader, enemies! to lovers, jungwon is a side character in this, violence (hs and y/n fight a lot physically), blood (but not so gory), sexual tension, cursing, dirty talk, hard dom! heeseung, humiliation, degradation usage of “whore” and “bitch”, pussy slapping, multiple positions, restraint, spitting, rough, angry sex.

Warning: This is not a soft enemies to lovers, this is die hard pure hatred enemies to lovers, i wouldn't even call it to lovers, but yeah, you've been warned. Heeseung and y/n deeply hate each other and they're ruthless and mean and violent, you know, typical demigods. Also, please remember that even if they do hate each other everything that happens is consensual !!

Word count: 13.0k

taglist at the end, likes and reblogs are appreciated !!

You remembered the sound first.

Not the clash of blades, but the crack of your fist slamming into his jaw. It echoed through the arena like a war drum, followed immediately by a spray of blood and the sharp twist of satisfaction in your chest. Heeseung staggered back, spitting red onto the dirt, and for a second, the other campers froze. No one stepped in, no one dared.

You hated him. With a fire that burned hotter than any of the other grudges you’d carried since coming to Camp Half-Blood. Heeseung didn’t just represent everything you loathed; he embodied it. The violence, the cruelty, the raw power, he wore it like a goddamn crown. He bullied the weak, mocked the newcomers, moving around with his little minions following him, like an army of derranged psycopaths, and relished every moment of it. The worst part was that he still had the audacity to act like he was better than everyone.

You weren’t born to be soft. You weren’t the type to sit and stare at your reflection, dreaming of love and beauty like your siblings. No, you were the daughter of Aphrodite, but you didn’t fit the mold. You were sharp, hard, even. You learned how to fight before you learned how to smile. Your beauty was a weapon, but it wasn’t the only one you had. Of course you were proud of your lineage, your mother was a very powerful goddess, but the truth is, you never felt connected to her, to what she represented. Her daughters were usually dainty, soft girls that moved around with so much sweetness it was almost cloying, princesses that nobody was allowed to touch even with the tip of a rose petal. But you never felt like that was you.

Sure, you had that in you too, a little bit. You were gorgeous, delicate features in your face, your body seemed to float when you fought, your smell sweet. But you were also dangerous, deadly, and you wanted it that way. You enjoyed it. Getting your pretty hands dirty, the sting of the cuts in your skin, the power.

You'd bled for this camp. You earned your place with your fists, with your blood, proving over and over again that you could handle yourself as well as any son or daughter of Ares.

The others had finally learned to respect you for that, but not Heeseung. Not him. He’d never respected you. And you sure as hell didn't respect him either.

He was the one who always had a snide comment ready whenever you crossed paths. The one who insulted you in front of the others, called you “Princess” with that grin of his, like you were just some fragile thing. The one who didn’t waste time before jumping right onto you with his dagger up your throat, dark, evil eyes staring at your soul. And the worst part? It was like he enjoyed getting under your skin, knowing exactly which buttons to press to make your blood boil.

You lunged forward, your fist hitting his jaw with all the force you could muster. The crowd around the arena sucked in a collective breath as the impact sent him stumbling back, his head snapping to the side. His eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and fury before he wiped the blood from his lip and sneered.

“You’re going to regret that.” he spat, teeth gritted.

You squared your stance. “Try me.”

Heeseung came at you fast. Too fast. His body slammed into yours with all the power of a freight train, knocking the wind out of you. You hit the dirt hard, but you didn’t lose focus. You rolled with the impact, coming back up with your sword already in hand, just as he drew his own.

You exchanged a flurry of blows, steel clashing against steel, skin against skin. His strength was undeniable, but your speed was your advantage. You ducked, weaved, and slashed. His blade grazed your thigh, cutting deep, and you hissed, feeling the blood begin to run. But it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

Heeseung was relentless, driving you back with sheer force. His fist landed on your jaw with a sickening thud, and you tasted blood, your own this time. The world blurred for a second, your head spinning, a white noise in your ear, but you didn’t fall. You couldn’t. You’d spent too long proving you were no fragile thing to let him knock you down now.

You retaliated. Hard.

Your fist collided with his nose, and you heard the sickening crunch of bone. Heeseung reeled back, but his eyes burned with fury, his smile bloodied but still there.

“You’re a fucking monster,” you groaned, wiping blood from your mouth. “What makes you think I’m scared of you?”

Heeseung didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

“You should be.”

With that, he hit you again, this time with his elbow, knocking you to the ground. He was on top of you in seconds, his heavy weight suffocating you, fists raining down, but you weren’t done yet. Your hands found the edge of his armor, and you yanked him off you, using the momentum to flip him onto his back. You straddled him, your sword at his throat, the cold steel pressing against his skin.

Then, someone screamed your name.

It took three campers to drag you off of him.

Heeseung sat up slowly, wiping blood from his eyes, face a mess of cuts and bruises. His brothers crowded around him, and he pushed one of them who tried to help him get up. You didn’t look much better, your lip was split, your nose bleeding, the side of your face already swelling.

Chiron’s voice cut through the ringing in your ears. “Enough!”

For a long moment, you just stared at him, chest heaving, both of you covered in blood. And then you spoke, your voice low and full of venom.

“Next time, you won’t get back up.”

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

Cabin 10 smelled like roses and antiseptic.

You sat on the marble bench beside your bunk, shirt discarded, blood still drying on your soft skin. Your thigh was bandaged, your knuckles bruised, and there was a gash on your cheek that someone had definitely told you you needed stitches.

You didn’t care.

“Hold still.” Wonyoung, your sister muttered, dabbing at the cut on your jaw with a soaked cotton pad “Gods, you’re worse than Ares kids.”

You flinched. “Don’t compare me to them.”

Ares kids were violent, vicious by nature, they were born that way, with the hunger for war running through their veins like a deadly dna, most of them were evil, found fun in fighting with whoever crossed their paths just because. But you were not like that, you fought to survive, to prove yourself, to gain respect. Not like them, not like Heeseung.

She didn’t say anything for a second, just wrung out the cloth and moved to the slice across your ribs. It burned, you didn’t flinch this time.

“You realize people thought he was going to die, right?” Behind you, Jungwon, your former protector and satyr, muttered.

Despite de chaos that seemed to follow him like a curse, Jungwon had always felt like safety. He was your protector once, when you were just a scared little kid fresh out of the mortal world, too stubborn to cry and too exhausted to fight. It was his voice that coaxed you out of hiding, his clumsy jokes that made you laugh the first time you felt like camp could be home.

He never changed, not really. Still wide-eyed, still a little awkward, still had the softest heart you’d ever met in a world built for war.

“Heeseung’s fine.” You muttered, jaw tight. “Unfortunately.”

“Barely.” Your sister shot back.

“It’s not my fault.” You snapped “He started it. He always starts it.”

“And you always finish it.” Jungwon said, stopping in front of you, soft eyes like completely worried about you. “That’s the problem.”

You looked up at him, still feeling like a child under his protective gaze. It was true, though, most of the times you wouldn't even wait until the insult left Heeseung's teeth before jumping onto him and knock him on his back or slapping his face with your palm, and of course, he always reacted violently fast.

“What, you want me to just let him walk all over me? Let him humiliate me in front of everyone?”

“No.” He said gently, a hand landing on your hair “We want you to stop acting like you’re not going to kill each other if this keeps going.”

There was a long silence.

You looked down at your hands, the skin over your knuckles hurt, raw, some of the blood on your palms was his, most of it was yours. It didn't sound that bad, to kill him, but it terrified you. Not because of him, you couldn't care less about his life, but because the effects he had on you, what you turned into whenever he was around.

“I can’t ignore him.” You said quietly. “He’s everything i hate about this place. The violence, the arrogance, the way people cheer for the worst parts of us like it’s a game. And he loves it.”

Jungwon’s hand stilled on your shoulder.

“And you’re not like that?”

You didn’t answer.

Because sometimes… sometimes when you were in it, sword in hand, blood in your mouth, rage burning through your chest, you weren’t sure if you hated him, or hated how much he brought the worst in your chest.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

The lights were dim, only a few oil lamps burning in the corners, casting shadows across the weapons hanging from the walls. Heeseung sat shirtless on his bunk, arms wrapped in fresh gauze, a strip of dried blood trailing from the corner of his mouth to his collarbone. The Ares cabin stank of blood, sweat, and agression.

His jaw was still sore from where you’d hit him.

Y/N.

Your name alone made his blood boil.

“She’s fucking insane.” He growled, spitting into the tin bucket by his bed. “She doesn’t fight like she wants to win, she fights like she wants to kill.”

His brothers sat around the room, most of them half-dressed, cleaning weapons, wrapping bandades, sharpening blades. They listened, smirking, amused. This wasn't something new for them, it was an almost every week thing, everyone knew about the rivalry between you two, and some were scared, terrified. His siblings enjoyed it. No one else had the courage to fight Heeseung, to put him on his place, no one even had the chance, he'd probably knock them down in a second.

Only you. And that's what made him burn with something big as a monster inside of his chest.

“She almost did kill you.” Yudai muttered, with a laugh.

Heeseung’s head snapped up, eyes dark.

“If she’d landed that last hit, she’d be dead right now. Don’t ever think she had me.”

He clenched his fist, the knuckles still purple from the impact. The image of you, bloodied and breathing hard, standing over him with that sword at his throat, burned in his memory like a brand. His stomach twitched, rage, aching like a deep, dirty stab.

“She thinks she’s above it all.” he muttered. “Thinks she’s better than us just because she’s not like the other Aprhodite brats. Hates me because i am what i am, because i don’t pretend to be nice.”

“You hate her more than you hate the monsters we fight.” Yudai said, kicking back with a toothpick between his teeth.

“I do.” Heeseung snapped.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, voice dropping low and venomous. The worst part of all, was that he never stopped, not even when his hands were so tight around your throat he thought you could die, not even when that gorgeous face was bathed in blood, from him, from you. Maybe he was a monster, but he was sure you were one too, just under that perfect, beautiful facade that you only used for your benefit.

“I swear to the gods, one second, just one second of no witnesses, i’ll end it. Right there. Slice her throat open and let the monsters take credit for it.”

The room went quiet for a beat.

Then Yudai whistled, long a low. “You’re going to kill Aprhodite’s golden girl?”

Heeseung’s mouth twisted into a sneer.

“She’s not golden. She’s rusted metal wrapped in perfume. All that beauty is just armor for a bitch with a blade.”

He leaned back, hands behind his head, the bruises of his face stretching as he grinned.

“She should be scared of me.”

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

You were already in a bad mood when Chiron sent for you. The kind of mood where your fists curled at your sides and you were one dumb comment away from snapping. In your head, a million questions, maybe it was finally that time, whole camp was tired of your fights with Heeseung, so you prepared yourself for the discourse, the consequences. Exile, maybe even some heavy punishment from your mother, or even worse, from his father.

So when you pushed open the doors to the Big House and saw him, Heeseung, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, wearing that smug, punchable look, you nearly turned around. His presence was suffocating, it had been days since the last fight, but he still had bruises in his face, ones that were still healing. But even then, he looked good, as if nothing had happened, that cocky smile in his lips, that amused look on his face.

“Tell me this is a joke,” you said flatly, looking past him to Chiron.

Heeseung scoffed, waving his hand at you, slowly.

“Nice to see you too, Princess.”

You ignored him, sitting stiffly on one of the wooden chairs in Chiron’s office, arms crossed over your chest, legs still sore from training. The air smelled faintly of old scrolls and peppermint tea, like it always did in here, but it did nothing to calm the storm rising in your chest.

Across from you, Heeseung slouched with that permanent smugness glued to his face, like being summoned to the Big House was some casual thing. Like this wasn’t about to be another war waiting to happen.

Someone let out a deep, painful sigh. And to your right, Jungwon sat nervously picking at his hooves, you didn't even noticed he was here too, and your instict told you that something really, really bad was about to happen, his eyes darting between the two of you like he’d rather be anywhere else on Earth. Honestly? Same.

Chiron cleared his throat, the sound snapping the tension in half like a twig. “You’ve been chosen for a quest,” he said, his voice calm and heavy with importance. “It’s urgent. And dangerous.”

Your stomach dropped. And then you almost laughed, because fucking gods, always trying to make fun of their own children. Your thoughts raced "No. No no no. Not him" You didn’t let it show on your face, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction, but your hands curled into fists on your lap, nails digging into your skin. Being sent on a quest with Heeseung was like being asked to walk into a burning house with a can of gasoline and hope for the best.

It wasn’t even fear, it was rage. Frustration. The gods had a twisted sense of humor, pairing you with the one person you might actually kill before the monsters even had a chance. Or even worse, the one person that would sacrifice you for his own glory, and would enjoy every second of it.

Chiron kept talking, but your ears buzzed.

Why him? Why you?

And then you looked at him, Heeseung straightened slightly, all casual arrogance sharpening into something colder. Of course he looked excited, of course he was thrilled at the idea of blood, violence, monsters. He was made for this. And worse of all, of course he would be happy with being with you in the outside world, without any supervision, because there, he'll finally try to do it. To kill you.

You tried to focus, tried to keep your jaw from clenching.

“There’s been a disturbance in the western territories. Several minor gods have gone quiet. The Oracle says something is coming, something old, and angry. We believe it’s tied to the recent disappearances along the borders of the mortal world.”

You blinked slowly, processing. Disappearances meant monsters were getting bolder, stronger, maybe even organised.

That’s when he said it.

“You three will go together, Heeseung, Y/N… and Jungwon.”

This quest could have meant something.

A chance to prove yourself again, yo prove you weren’t soft. But now? Now you’d have to do it next to a boy who represented everything you hated about this place. The violence, the pride, the power without control.

Heeseung shifted in his seat, and you caught his eyes, cold, amused, daring you to say something. You didn’t look away.

Chiron finally turned toward the both of you, his expression tired, too tired for a centaur who’d lived through multiple wars. “This will require teamwork. I don’t care about your history, out there, you either rely on each other or you die.”

Yeah, that's the part that terrifies me, you thought. Because you both were the same in that aspect, the hunger for glory and respect, but you could never work together, not even for a quest like this. You knew he'd had no problem in throwing you off a cliff if it interfered in the quest and got him the chance to come back as a hero. This was going to fail, or end up with one of you two dead, you knew it.

You exhaled slowly through your nose, in your chest, something coiled, hot and electric, all edges and fury. You didn’t know if it was determination, or a very, very bad omen.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

The sun hadn’t fully risen yet. The sky was a muted gray, tinged with pink, and the camp still felt asleep, it should’ve been peaceful, it was quiet. Like the start of something sacred. Instead, the ambiance felt wrong, too still, like something was watching, waiting.

You stood at the camp border with your bag slung over one shoulder, arms crossed as you stared at the two people you were going to spend the next gods-know-how-many days with. Over your body, a pair of washed jeans, a simple white t-shirt, and a pink leather jacket over all, you chose the most comfortable clothes you could find, you probably wouldn't even have time to change out there.

Jungwon had his satyr pack on, full of snacks, bandaids, and probably some glitter, and Heeseung… looked like he’d just rolled out of a bar fight and enjoyed it. He was dressed in all black, no armor, just a worn jacket and a blade strapped to his thigh like he wanted someone to test him, his red hair looking almost neon, and that same, damn smirk that you so much hated on his lips.

You had spent the last few hours trying to make peace with the fact that this was real, that you were sent on a quest with the person you most hated in the entire world, and you prepared yourself. You planned all kind of strategies just in case that he tried to kill you while you slept, or even worse, if he tried to betray you and give you away like a full meal for some monster.

“Okay,” Jungwon said, his tone way too chipper for how much tension was leaking from the ground beneath your feet. “Before we go, can we all agree on one thing?”

You raised a brow. “What?”

“No murdering each other,” he said, looking between you and Heeseung like a hopeful kindergarten teacher. “At least not until we’re back.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Heeseung scoffed, placing his hand on the satyr's shoulder, tilting his head as if he just made the most ridiculous comment in the world. You frowned your eyebrows, obviously suspicious of his calm facade.

“Nice team,” he muttered. “A dumb satyr who only thinks about snacks and a bitch with a temper problem. What could possibly go wrong?”

You had your comeback ready, but Jungwon spoke before you, and you felt years of your life fading away because gods, the quest hadn't even started, and he was already getting on your nerves.

Jungwon blinked, confused. “Wait, was that… sarcasm?”

You didn’t respond, just stared ahead, biting the inside of your cheek so hard it almost bled. Heeseung smiled, not his usual smirk, no smug, no show. Just a slow, calm twist of his lips, something unsettlingly cold behind his eyes.

“Of course,” he added smoothly. “I wouldn’t dream of breaking the rules.”

You didn't believe him for a second.

Jungwon clapped his hands together, relieved. “Great! Great! See? Teamwork! I really feel good about this, guys.”

You didn't.

He turned and started walking ahead, already humming to himself like a fool who had no idea how close he was to being caught in the crossfire of something deadly. You fell into step behind him, keeping your distance from the Ares boy trailing just off to your side.

But you felt it.

That calm wasn’t real, it was a mask, and Heeseung was a ticking bomb wearing it like a crown. You didn’t look at him, didn’t give him the satisfaction, but your hand lingered near your weapon anyway.

Then, just quiet enough for only you to hear, Heeseung’s voice slid through the space between you:

“The moment we’re alone, you're done."

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

The fire crackled between you, long shadows across the trees. The stars above were cold and silent, blinking down on three demigods who were definitely not on the same page. You sat with your knees pulled up, chewing a strip of dried ambrosia like it had personally offended you. Jungwon was beside you, humming softly as he unpacked a ridiculous number of snacks from his bag, trail mix, licorice, those glittery jelly beans from the Aphrodite cabin someone had given him as a goodbye gift.

The silence had stretched for too long.

You’d tried to ignore it, to pretend like the unease crawling across your skin was just the wind or the strain of walking all day. But it wasn’t. It was him, always him. Breathing the same air, sharing the same fire, sitting there like a predator waiting for your back to turn.

You didn’t trust him. Not for a second.

It wasn’t just that he was violent, it was the way he enjoyed it, the way he looked at people like they were targets, not lives. Like everyone around him was just another warm body to split open when he got bored. And now you were stuck with him.

You could feel his eyes on you, you hadn’t looked at him once since setting up camp, but you knew. You felt it. The fire cracked again. He was there, arms behind his head, leaning back against a tree like this was a vacation, eyes half-lidded, lips twisted in that permanent smirk like he was bored of existing. Or maybe just bored of you.

“You’re staring,” Heeseung drawled suddenly, without opening his eyes.

You blinked slowly. “I’d rather stab myself.”

He grinned. “I’d rather you did.”

Jungwon made a tiny distressed noise through a mouthful of candy. He was scared, but not because of him, because of you two, he felt the need to control both of you, because he knew the moment one of you snapped it would be done. You rolled your eyes.

“Tell me, is being an asshole hereditary, or did you claw your way to the top all by yourself?”

Heeseung’s eyes snapped open now, glinting in the firelight, his jaw clenched slightly, but he remained calm, too calm, and you didn't like it. You never liked it, how he looked at you as if he was thinking of devouring you, literally speaking.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purred, “you keep calling me an asshole like it’s not your kink.”

Your hands tightened into fists on your knees. Across the fire, Heeseung leaned forward now, bracing his elbows on his thighs, firelight licking across his face and casting shadows under his cheekbones.

“There it is,” he said softly. “That little twitch in your jaw. Gods, it’s my favorite.”

You swallowed, your heart starting to race, but not from nervousness, from anger, building slowly inside of you like a deadly fever, and your fists grew tighter, the blood from your veins starting to boil.

“Careful,” you warned, voice low and venomous. “You’re mistaking hatred for interest. Again.”

Jungwon sat up straighter, waving a snack wrapper like a white flag. He was nervous, it was obvious, his eyes were begging for you two to stop, and gods, it was only the first day, the first few hours, and he was already terrified that you both killed each other and he would have to carry your bodies back to camp.

“Okay, okay! Maybe let’s not verbally skin each other alive tonight, huh? I’m just trying to survive out here, guys.” He laughed nervously, looking between the two of you with wide eyes and a sheepish smile. “Can’t we just… I don’t know, share stories? Play a game? Something that doesn’t involve emotional homicide?”

But you didn't even blink, neither did Heeseung, gazes were locked into the other, sharp, threatening. You were already on your feet, moving so fast the firelight flared with your motion. But Jungwon raised a hand before you could step forward, his eyes pleading.

“Please,” he said, voice shaking “Just… sit.”

You looked at him, and he brushed your hand with his, softly, like trying to calm you down, big eyes almost teary. He cared for you, he was worried for you, he always did.

So you sat, slowly, carefully, like lowering a sword. But your eyes never left Heeseung.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” you hissed, voice quiet but pulsing with fury. “But I’m not scared of you.”

His smile faded from his lips, and he didn't respond, just closed his eyes again, going back to his position.

You laid down eventually, spine stiff against the bedroll, your fingers near the hilt of your weapon even in sleep. You could feel his presence like smoke behind your back. Still awake, still waiting. Whatever this was, hatred, danger, whatever toxic tether tied you to him, it wasn’t going away.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

Five days.

Five days of hiking through dirt, sleeping on rocks, and fighting over who snored louder. Five days of keeping your blade sharp and your tongue sharper. The insults had become part of the routine, like breathing. Heeseung would mutter something venomous under his breath when you passed too close, and you’d shoot back with something nastier. It wasn’t even creative anymore, just muscle memory. Jungwon had taken to walking ahead with his fingers in his ears, humming to himself like maybe if he pretended hard enough, you two weren’t on the verge of killing each other at any given moment.

The day was unnervingly quiet. Fog rolled over the trail like spilled milk, thick and clinging to the ground, curling around your ankles as you walked. The trees around you were ancient and skeletal, their branches twisting like claws into the pale sky. It felt like walking into a dream, too still, too silent.

No birds, no wind. Just the sound of Jungwon’s hooves scuffing the trail ahead and Heeseung’s footsteps behind you, always a little too close.

Your skin itched. Something was wrong.

You didn’t realize how right you were until the boulder to your left exploded. The crack was deafening, stone shattered in every direction, a plume of dust and grit blinding you as something massive surged out of the ground. It was all instinct from there.

You hit the ground, rolled to the side, and drew your weapon before your brain could fully register what you were facing. The creature was huge, easily the size of a truck, all scaled limbs and jagged claws, glowing yellow eyes set deep into a thick, reptilian skull. Its jaw opened wide enough to swallow a full-grown camper whole, fangs dripping with something viscous and green.

A drakon. Or some offshoot of one. Gods, it was ugly.

Jungwon screamed as the monster’s tail lashed out, catching him mid-run and sending him flying into the underbrush with a crash and a startled, goat-like bleat.

You didn’t even have time to check on him.

The thing was on you. You ducked under a claw, sliced upward and caught its cheek, black blood spraying in a hiss. It roared and snapped, teeth clashing inches from your face as you danced backward, slipping on gravel and nearly losing your footing. It was fast, strong, and pissed. You twisted, breath burning in your lungs, and locked eyes with Heeseung across the clearing.

He stood frozen, maybe ten feet away, blade drawn, but not moving, not helping. Just watching.

Your heart stuttered in your chest.

“Heeseung!” you shouted, voice raw. “Help me!”

Nothing. He just stood there, sword gleaming in the misty light, his face unreadable.

And in that moment, while you were dodging death by inches, your body screaming from the strain, blood leaking from a gash on your thigh, you realised something chilling: He was thinking, he was deciding. Like this wasn’t a surprise attack, but a fucking coin toss.

And you were the risk.

“Are you serious?!” you shouted, rage rising, panic choking your throat. “Do something!”

The drakon surged forward again. You blocked the first blow, but your arms were weakening, your muscles rubbery, your grip faltering. The beast reared up, mouth opening wide, and for one second, you thought, this is it. It finally happened, you died, and it was because of him, because of Heeseung, you were right, all the time, not even in a situation like this he would help you, he would enjoy it. You thought about your mother, how she would feel about you disappointing her like this, and thought about Ares, god of War, Heeseung's father, probably laughing at you in that exact same second.

You closed your eyes, ready to receive death with open arms.

Then, finally, finally, steel flashed through the fog. Heeseung moved. One clean slice, fast and brutal, and his blade carved through the side of the drakon’s neck. It shrieked, buckling under the pain.

You didn’t hesitate.

You darted forward and drove your blade into its heart with a snarl, twisting the metal until the light died from its eyes. The beast crumpled with a ground-shaking thud, its last breath gurgling out in a hiss of rot and steam. You stood over its corpse, shoulders heaving, blood dripping down your fingers. Your heart punding, kicking with all its force against your chest, your head spinning, the world feeling hazy.

But then you turned.

Heeseung stood there, calm as ever, wiping black ichor from his sword with the corner of his jacket like he hadn’t just nearly let you die. Your vision blurred with fury.

“What the fuck was that?!” you roared, marching toward him.

He didn’t even blink.

“I handled it.” He smirked, and you swore you felt smoke coming from your ears.

“You hesitated!” you shoved him, hard, your palm slamming into his chest. “You watched! Like it was a show!”

“I waited for the right moment.”

“You waited to see if it would kill me!”

The words felt like acid. Like betrayal.

His jaw clenched. “Don’t flatter yourself. If I wanted you dead right now, I’d make it happen.”

You didn’t think.

You punched him, your knuckles cracked against his cheekbone, and his head snapped to the side. For a split second, one, you saw a flash of something in his eyes. Not pain. Pride. And then he was on you.

He tackled you hard, the two of you hitting the dirt with bone-jarring force. You grunted, rolling, trying to twist free, but his grip was iron. His knee pressed into your ribs. Your blade was gone, knocked somewhere in the chaos, but you didn’t need it.

Your fists slammed into his ribs, his side, anywhere you could reach. He grunted, caught your wrist mid-swing, flipped you, and shoved you down again.

“Stop!” Jungwon’s voice rang out from the woods, panicked and hoarse. “Hello? You guys just killed a literal monster! Can we please not add each other to the body count?!”

You barely heard him, your breathing was wild, chest rising and falling beneath Heeseung’s as he loomed over you, teeth bared, eyes dark with fury.

“You’re fucking insane,” you hissed.

He leaned in closer, just enough for you to see the blood on his lip from your punch. “Takes one to know one.”

You bucked hard and managed to shove him off, he rolled, landing in a crouch a few feet away, chest heaving, hand still on his weapon.

You didn’t move, didn’t speak. The only thing louder than your heartbeat was the silence pressing in after the violence.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

Heeseung sat at the edge of the clearing, just outside the reach of the fire’s glow, the split on his lip still warm and bleeding. He could’ve cleaned it by now, maybe wrapped his knuckles too, but he didn’t move. The sting grounded him. He needed it.

You were on the other side of the fire, shoulders stiff, staring into the flames like they might offer answers, like they might burn away what happened. You hadn’t looked at him since you buried your blade in that drakon’s chest.

Not when he stood there too long. Not when you screamed at him. Not even when you hit him so hard his ears rang.

And yet, Heeseung couldn’t stop looking at you.

His jaw clenched so tight it ached. He spat blood onto the dirt, bitter and metallic on his tongue. He deserved that punch, maybe more. But not because he hesitated. Because deep down, where no one could see, not his brothers, not Chiron, not even himself on most days, Heeseung knew exactly why he’d frozen.

Heeseung dug his nails into his palm, breathing slow and shallow through his nose, chest tight with something he didn’t want to name. You weren’t supposed to be this good. You weren’t supposed to be better than him.

But you were.

In every fucking way.

You were faster. Smarter. Sharper with a blade and even sharper with your words. You never flinched, not from monsters, not from pain, not from him. He’d seen it all: the way you moved through battle like it was choreography, the way your body moved with so much grace but equal strength, the way your hair danced with you, the way your face would be covered in all kind of bruises and dirt and blood and you'd still looked so fucking beautiful, untouchable. The way your mind worked ten steps ahead, calculating, adapting. He saw it when you saved Jungwon without hesitation, when you fought with everything you had even when you were bleeding, exhausted, cornered.

And worst of all, he saw it in the way people looked at you. With respect. With belief. No one had ever looked at him like that. Not even his own.

Heeseung grew up being told he was powerful. Ares’ son. Made for war. Designed to destroy. He was praised for his violence, for how quickly he could break things. But you? You were power with purpose. You weren’t just a weapon, you were a warrior. And that infuriated him.

Heeseung let out a breath and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers twitching like he needed a fight just to quiet his head.He watched the flames crackle, throwing light across your face. Even bruised and bloodied, you looked like a real life goddess.

He wanted to hate you for it. Needed to.

Because if he didn’t, if he admitted what else was under the surface, simmering low and hot and terrifying, he’d fall apart. And Heeseung didn’t fall apart. He ripped things down with him.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

You were exhausted, your thigh hurt just were the cut was still fresh, your legs trembled, you'd been walking for hours at this point, still unsure of what you were looking for. Jungwon walked by your side, the snacks on his bag had disappeared a day ago, you were thirsty, hungry, tired. Heeseung walked behind you two, silent, the last few hours he'd been like this, and it made you shiver, for some reason. No insults, no violence. But that same look in his eyes, as if we still was waiting for the right moment.

You stumbled into it just before sunset.

A clearing tucked behind crumbling marble archways, overgrown with ivy and blooming with strange, golden trees. Fruit hung heavy from the branches, plump and glistening, like it was begging to be eaten. The air was thick with sweetness, warm and drowsy. The silence buzzed.

It was too perfect.

"Woah..." Jungwon's eyes shined as he looked around, fingers brushing the colorful flowers.

"What the fuck is this place?" Heeseung's voice came raspy, deep, so rough in the so heavenly environment.

But you didn't move.

You looked around. The garden shimmered in the dying light, as if every petal, every branch, was exhaling a spell, the fruit glowed faintly, the vines pulsed with life, everything was too alive.

Magic, floating in the air, every hair in your body jumped.

“I know this magic,” you whispered.

Of course you did. You felt it. Your blood rejected it, your mother’s protection winding through your veins like steel. This was Aphrodite’s garden. Ancient, dangerous, designed to enchant, to unearth buried desires, to peel skin and soul until only want remained. Everything shimmered. Not sparkling, shimmered, like it existed on the edge of a dream. The colors bled into each other: pinks melting into reds, into soft golds, into dangerous blues, the grass was too green, the shadows too soft. It was all... wrong.

Something shifted.

Heeseung blinked, like trying to shake off a fog, and swallowed hard. His brows furrowed, jaw tightening like it did before a fight. He glanced around once, slowly, his body tense, hands twitching at his sides.

“Don’t eat anything,” you warned Jungwon, voice quiet. “Don’t touch anything.”

You felt it immediately. The pull, the power.

But it stopped at the edges of your skin, like the spell recognized its own blood. Your mother’s blood, you could feel the enchantment washing over you, trying, but never sinking in.

But it was too late.

Jungwon, true to his nature, had already plucked a glowing peach from a tree and bitten into it with a happy little hum.

“Jungwon!”

He blinked at you once, then twice, and then collapsed flat on his back in the grass, still chewing. Jungwon hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, limbs splayed out in the overgrown grass, a goofy smile still ghosting across his face. You were at his side in seconds, checking his pulse, his breathing, the flicker of life behind his eyes.

Alive, just unconscious, heavy with magic. You let out a sigh of relief.

Heeseung stood a few feet away, unmoving, silent. The last of the sun filtered through the garden canopy in molten gold, and for a moment, you saw him fully still, unnaturally so.

“Heeseung,” you said cautiously. “Help me lift him.”

He didn’t respond.

“Heeseung.”

His head turned, slowly, too slow. His eyes, dark, sharp, always dangerous, looked different. Dilated, bleary. Like he wasn’t seeing you, but something else. Something deeper. His breath came a little too fast. You straightened up slowly, still crouched protectively beside Jungwon.

Then you swallowed, panic starting to accumulate in your chest.

“…You okay?”

He laughed once, quiet, hollow. “This place…”

You stood slowly, walking towards him, carefully, and then you looked at his face, and you knew it. Ares-born rage now mixed with lust, hate, obsession, blended into something sharp and unmanageable. The garden was feeding it. Feeding him.

His eyes locked with yours. And then he smiled. But it wasn’t that smug, cocky smirk you knew so well. It was something else. Something animal. Sharp and too wide. Hungry.

Your heart sopped beating in your chest, you began to sweat, warm drops falling from your forehead.

“Heeseung,” you said carefully, “this place isn’t safe. It’s enchanted. It’s pulling your mind apart.”

"I know." He responded quickly, sharp, voice now almost unrecognizable, the same tone he used when he tightened his hands around your throat and watched as you slowly ran out if air beneath him.

Your body tensed, your mind racing, looking around for something that could maybe help you get him out of this. Before it was too late. You knew your mother's magic too well, she herself had punished you a lot of times before, when she'd claimed you embarrassed her, you've felt it. It was like a cascade of all the deepest desires in your heart coming alive, and there was no way of stopping it.

And you knew, that Heeseung's deepest desire, was to kill you.

“Heeseung—”

“Do you wanna know the worst part?” he asked, stepping forward. His voice was ragged, but low. Like he was still fighting it somewhere deep inside. “I know it’s the garden. I know it’s in my head. But that doesn’t make it stop.”

You took a small step back, barely noticeable, a bulge building up in your throat, and you swallowed hard, your hand tightened around your blade, shaky fingers. His eyes flicked down. He noticed.

“Smart. You should run.”

And you did.

Without another word, you turned and bolted into the garden, feet barely making a sound over the enchanted grass. The vines reached for you like fingers, but you ducked and weaved through them, the fruit trees blurred past, the flowers pulsed with unnatural light. You ran deeper, heart hammering, blade ready in your hand. For the first time in years, you felt scared. Your mother's magic, mixed with Heeseung's enraging feelings towards you, you didn't think you could survive it. He was already reckless, already vicious and mean, but that, mixed with Aphrodites magic, would make him deadly, and unstoppable, until he got what he desired.

Behind you, you heard it, his footsteps, slower than yours, measured, stalking.

He didn’t need to run. He was hunting you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, slid behind a stone column, breath coming in quiet bursts, you knew how to stay still, you knew how to wait.

But the garden didn’t help.

It whispered around you, the magic of it made your skin crawl. It wanted this. Wanted the fight. The fury. The tension that reeked of lust and blood and desperation.

You heard a twig snap. And then, he was there.

He grabbed you from behind, you twisted, slammed your elbow into his ribs, and broke free. He grunted, caught your wrist mid-swing, and shoved you against the trunk of a tree.

The blade dropped from your hand.

“You don’t get to touch me,” you snarled, kneeing him in the gut. He reeled back, and you lunged for your weapon, but he kicked it away, eyes blazing. He was faster this time, his eyes seemed to burn with pure rage.

“You don’t get to run from me!” he yelled, grabbing your arm again and spinning you around. You slammed your fist into his jaw. Blood splattered across his cheek, but he just laughed. “Gods, I hate you,” he panted, shoving you hard. You stumbled, caught your footing. "But that's good, because i've been looking for an excuse to kill you."

You collided again, hands, fists, nails. He grabbed your shirt, you grabbed his hair. He threw you down into the flowers; you kicked him in the stomach and sent him crashing into a low stone bench. Dirt on your skin, blood on your lip, rage in your throat.

“You think you’re so strong,” he hissed, stalking toward you again, “but you’ve never been stronger than me.”

“No,” you spat, standing up to meet him. “Just better. And that’s what fucking kills you, isn’t it?”

You regretted it the moment you said it. Not because it wasn't true, not because of him. But because his eyes darkened even more, veins popping from his neck and his forehead, and you knew, that you touched a never that was extremely sensitive under the spell.

He froze for half a second. And then, he slapped you. Hard. Your head snapped to the side, vision hazy, heart pounding, cheek red, burning from his heat, you thought your face would be swollen in an instant.

The silence was deafening, you turned slowly, eyes burning, you didn't realise how scared you were until this moment, but not of him, of your mother's magic combined with him, until a single tear fell down your aching cheek.

But he didn’t speak, didn’t move. Just looked at you. Breathing like a caged animal, chest heaving, lips parted, blood on his teeth. And his eyes, dark, but shining, with something that wasn't good at all, even after all the fights, all the rage, all the hatred, he'd never looked at you like this before. And you knew it then, he truly, deeply hated you, so much it consumed him.

And then he grabbed your throat. You gasped, but not in fear. You grabbed his wrist, digging your nails in, but didn’t pull away. His grip wasn’t tight enough to cut your air, it was tight enough to say I could.

“Say you hate me,” he whispered, eyes wild.

“I do,” you snarled. “I fucking hate you.”

He growled, and you closed your eyes, expecting another hit. But then his mouth crashed into yours.

It wasn’t a kiss, it was a war. Teeth, lips, tongues. Brutal and messy and wrong. You bit down, he groaned against your mouth, and you shoved him back, but only enough to pull him down with you. The garden trembled around you, Aphrodite’s magic pulsed like a heartbeat. The line between hatred and hunger shattered. And there, in the heart of something ancient and cruel, you gave in to the ugliest truth between you: You didn’t want peace, you wanted to ruin each other.

His mouth crashed into yours like a threat, not a kiss. There was no softness in the way he grabbed you, just bruising pressure, all fingers and fists and breathless growls. The scent of blood and wild roses hung in the air like poison. You hated the way your body responded, but gods, it did. Every nerve burned, like the garden itself was under your skin, pulling at you, pressing Heeseung against you with invisible hands. His grip on your throat eased just enough for you to gasp, but the sound turned into a growl when he shoved you backward, hard, until your spine hit the bark of a wide tree behind you.

The vines coiled around the branches above, framing the scene like a painting of madness.

“Fucking hate you,” he panted against your mouth, biting your lip until it split. “I swear to the gods, you drive me insane.”

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head in one brutal movement, his knee forcing your legs apart, you tried to twist free, but he was faster, stronger, fueled by something primal and wrong. But you didn’t stop.

You leaned into it.

“Is this what you wanted?” you spat, baring your teeth. “You gonna fuck your rage out on me, Heeseung? Is that it?”

His eyes were blown wide with something feral. He didn’t answer with words. He pressed his body against yours, hips to hips, grinding into you with vicious intent, like he needed to mark you with every inch of hatred he had left, hard beneath his pants, thick length rubbing between your legs. And yet, beneath the fury, there was something shaking, like he wasn’t in control, like the garden had cracked him wide open and let every suppressed urge pour out like venom.

You were soaked in it.

Sweat slicked your chest, your thighs trembled, not in fear, but in maddening anticipation. The bark bit into your back, the tension in your arms from being held made your muscles scream, but your eyes didn’t leave his.

Heeseung yanked your pants down with one hand, the other still pinning your wrists. His movements were rough, furious, like he wanted to tear you apart and devour the pieces. You gasped, not from pain, not exactly, but from the sick, spiraling need clawing its way up your spine. This was wrong, ugly. It tasted like violence.

And gods, it felt good.

His hand dragged down between your legs, fingers slipping through wetness that had no right to be there.

“You’re soaked,” he sneered. “You hate me this much?”

“Fuck you,” you hissed, voice shaking.

He shoved two fingers inside you without warning, and you bit down on your own cry, back arching against the tree.

“Say it again,” he growled, twisting his wrist. “Say you fucking hate me.”

You met his eyes, burning. “I wish you were dead.”

And he kissed you again, dirty, primal, strong, deep. His tongue explored your mouth hungrily, his hand finally let go of your wrists, but you didn't fight this time, you couldn't, your body was acting before your mind did. And in the moment he grabbed your throat again, tighter this time, fingers marking the soft skin of your neck, and he looked down at you again before spitting dirty inside your mouth, you swallowed, without hesitation at all, moaning in the mess of saliva, and blood, and hot breaths.

"I’ve been waiting to shut you up like this for weeks,” he muttered, fingers curling inside of you, stretching your walls so good. “You talk so much shit… maybe I should fuck you until you forget your own name.”

“You’re disgusting.” You spat back, but you still moaned when he started thrusting his fingers, fast, hard, palm crashing against your wet folds.

“And you’re dripping,” he snarled, removing his fingers and letting them fall hard in your pussy, slapping it, and you whined before he thrusted them inside of you again, deep. “You wanna hate me? Go ahead. But your cunt’s soaked for me.”

You bit down on his shoulder, hard. He let out a twisted groan before grabbing you with so much force your already weakened knees trembled, and flipped you over. Your face crashed with the tree, your back now against his chest, and he licked long, wet, slow in your neck, like wanting to taste you, sucking, leaving red marks that you knew would become purple by the morning. You bit your swollen lip hard, and he fingered you again, now using three of his digits, wet sounds combined with your moans and his heavy breathing.

“Gods, you’d look so fucking good crying under me,” he breathed, and you heard the sound of his belt. “Bet that pretty mouth would beg eventually. Even if you had to lie while doing it.”

"Fuck you." You said, but your voice came weak, your body was shaking, wetness dripping from your thighs until it was soaked and sticky.

He removed his fingers again, and you hated how your pussy clenched around nothing, feeling so empty, aching, needy. But not for too long.

"Already am, princess."

Then he slammed into you, and you choked on your breath. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t careful. It was a brutal, punishing thrust that made your whole body jolt with pain and pleasure, more pleasure than pain, and you shut your eyes as a high pitch scream left your mouth. He didn’t wait for you to catch up, didn’t care if it burned. He just took.

And you liked it.

Every snap of his hips sent a filthy moan tearing out of his throat, he was so thick, so long inside of you, every inch of your walls clenched around him tight, as if it was made for you, as if you were made for him. And you hated it, so much your stomach burned, but you loved it even more. So did your body, your legs were trembling, your back was arched, not wanting him to stop, not wanting his warmth away from you.

Heeseung didn’t pause, didn’t let you adjust. His hands gripped your waist, holding you down, and he fucked into you like he hated you.

“I knew you’d feel like this,” he grunted. “So tight, so fucking perfect. All that hate… and you’re dripping like a whore.”

Your skin was slick with sweat. The garden pressed in around you, vines curling, flowers trembling. You hated the way your body reacted, hated the way every snap of his hips made you clench harder. You wanted to spit in his face, scratch his eyes out.

But gods, it felt so good. You couldn't stop moaning, rocking your hips backwards to meet with his thrusts, him going so deep you could feel him everywhere, your pussy tight and dripping, wet sounds as your skins crashed, as his thighs slapped your asscheeks. He groaned in your ear, hot breath making your skin jump.

“Fucking take it,” he growled, pace brutal. “Take it like the mouthy little brat you are.”

His pace got faster, merciless, all-consuming, and you couldn’t hold back anymore, not when he was fucking you like this, not when his fingers reached for your swollen, aching clit, not when the head of his cock slammed against your g-spot so good that you moaned again, his name this time.

Your body betrayed you, shuddering violently as your orgasm ripped through you like a firestorm. You didn’t want to scream, but you did. Loud, broken. You whole body shaking, the world feeling blurry through your teary eyesight. You'd never cum this hard before. Ever.

Heeseung groaned low in your ear. “Fucking knew you’d cum like that when I put you in your place.”

But he wasn't done. He pulled out, still hard, still throbbing, and your pulsing pussy still needy, you wanted more, but you would never say it. You didn't need to, your body reacted by itself, you whimpered and your back arched more. Your heart kicked into overdrive. You squirmed, trying to push off the trunk, but he grabbed both your wrists and wrenched them behind your back, tying them roughly with the leather strap from his armor. Tight. Secure.

“You don’t get to act like you didn’t fucking love it,” he hissed, pressing his body to yours. “You came so fast it was pathetic.”

You didn’t have time to catch your breath before he was slamming into you from behind, harder than the first time. Meaner. Like he was punishing you for breathing. You gasped, jaw clenched, trying to bite down the moan. But the sound still slipped out, raw and humiliating. Heeseung's hand reached for your throat again, and your head fell onto his shoulder, he kissed you again, biting your lip, tangling his tongue with yours, spitting inside of your mouth and you took it without fighting, his dark eyes locked with yours.

“Gods, listen to yourself,” he laughed breathlessly. “All that attitude and you’re whining like a needy little whore.”

You wanted to kill him, you really did, but still, you clenched around him, every thrust sending heat spiraling through your gut. The bark scraped your skin, wrists aching from the restraints. You were soaked, shaking, furious. But you couldn't stop, and you didn't want him to stop. His cock was throbbing inside of you, so good, his hands grabbed your hips tighter, his movements became rougher, groans and low moans leaving his lips.

But then he pulled out again, and you didn't have you react. Your back hit the tree with a dull thud, vines curling around the cracked surface behind you as your breath caught in your throat. Your legs scrambled for ground, but he stepped between them, body pressed tight to yours, eyes black with hunger and something far more dangerous. You gasped as your back slid higher up the trunk, knees now hooked over his forearms. He pinned you there, open, helpless, legs spread around his waist, his burning heat in front of you.

You hissed, but your hips bucked up on instinct. You bit back a whimper, biting your cheek so hard you tasted blood. Heeseung licked it off your lip when he kissed you, filthy, cruel, like he was claiming it.

“Say it,” he whispered against your mouth. “Say you hate me while I fuck you senseless.”

“I do,” you snapped, eyes flashing. “I hate you more than anything.”

His smirk twisted.

“Good.”

Without another word, he slammed into you again. You cried out, raw, loud, spine arching off the wall from the sheer force of it. He didn’t let you breathe. Just thrust after thrust, brutal and unforgiving. Your legs locked tighter around his waist as he pounded into you, his grip bruising on your thighs, forehead pressed to yours like he wanted to see every flicker of shame, need, and rage in your face.

“Look at you,” he breathed. “Gods, you feel fucking perfect around me. Tight little cunt made to take me. Say it,” he hissed. “Say you love how I fuck you.”

You shook your head, tears welling from the burn, not from pain, but from how badly your body was betraying you, from how good it felt. How close you were, again. How your hips kept chasing his.

“Fuck” you gasped. “I hate you... I...fuck!”

“That’s not what your cunt says,” he snarled, burying himself deep and grinding his hips so hard you almost screamed. His fingers rubbed your clit again, so good, so skilled, messy circles as you whined and trembled.

Your orgasm hit you like a slap, sudden and violent. Your whole body tensed around him, walls pulsing, muscles shaking, head falling back against the trunk as he kept thrusting.

“Look at that,” he laughed breathlessly. “Fucking milking me. Dirty little bitch.”

His own release hit seconds later, hot, messy, deep. He moaned low and dark into your throat, biting down hard on your shoulder as he spilled inside you. You sagged in his arms, trembling, heart slamming against your ribs like a war drum.

He held you there for a moment, panting, twitching inside you, breath on your cheek.

Then he pulled out, letting your legs fall. You nearly collapsed, but he caught you with one hand, shoving you back to the wall.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, hearts pounding, bodies trembling, both of you looking completely ruined. He didn't say anything, and maybe it was better that way. He simply untied you, eyes now on the ground, and started pulling up his pants.

You swallowed, your body still weak, your mind still processing what just happened, sweaty, sticky, his cum still dripping from your sore folds. You pulled your pants in silence as he buttoned his.

And then he left you there, wrecked, shaking, dripping, while the enchanted garden glowed soft and pink around you like it had seen everything.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

The morning sun filtered lazily through the rose-colored vines, dappling the grass with soft light. The garden looked peaceful, deceptively so. As if it hadn’t been the setting of something violent just hours before.

Jungwon was crouched near a stone altar, babbling happily to himself. “Okay so I think, I think, this statue of Aphrodite is pointing toward the next marker. See the vines here? Totally intentional. This is a clue. I'm a genius.”

You sat on a mossy stone, arms folded tightly across your chest. Your clothes were rumpled, your lip still bruised from where Heeseung had bitten you, and your thighs ached with a quiet, maddening throb you refused to acknowledge.

You hadn’t slept.

Not after that.

You didn’t want to look at him. You he hadn’t, not since you'd woken up to the sound of his footsteps behind you, casual and lazy like he hadn’t ruined you. Like he hadn’t left you broken against a tree with his name clawed into you throat.

But he was watching you. You could feel it. That heavy stare pressing against your back like a weight.

You didn’t flinch.

You wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Gods, what the hell had you done?

Heeseung leaned against a tree, arms crossed, trying not to let the memory creep under his skin again, but failing miserably.

You'd run from him. Blade in your hand. Wild with fear.

And still, you'd let him break you open.

He hated you.

He hated the way your eyes had rolled back when he was inside of you, hated the way your voice had cracked on his name, hated the need that burned behind your fury. But what he hated most? That he wanted more.

Not softness. Not forgiveness. Just more. More nails down his back. More of your spit on his mouth. More of that unhinged, vicious, addictive rage you only had for him.

And now, you wouldn’t even look at him.

He clenched his jaw.

Coward.

“Guys?” Jungwon looked over his shoulder, finally noticing the thick silence. “Uh… everything okay?”

You nodded once, tight. “Fine.”

Heeseung didn’t say anything.

Jungwon blinked, then gave an awkward laugh. “Okayyy. So! Like I was saying, I think this garden was Aphrodite’s way of messing with people. Like… seduction as a trap, you know?”

Your stomach twisted.

Trap. Right.

Jungwon kept going, unaware. “So if we follow the direction her statue’s pointing, I think we’ll find the next artifact. Or a trial. Or something. I mean, we’re overdue for a monster encounter, aren’t we?”

Silence.

You stood. “Then let’s move.”

You still didn’t look at Heeseung as you passed him.

But he turned his head slightly, eyes trailing the line of your spine, and muttered under his breath, just quiet enough for you to hear:

“Can’t run forever, sweetheart.”

You didn’t stop walking. But your fists clenched hard enough for your nails to break skin.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

You felt it in your teeth.

A low hum, almost imperceptible at first, like the air was vibrating around your bones. It made your skin itch. Made your blade feel heavier in your hand.

The ruins looked like they’d been forgotten for centuries, swallowed by the earth. Cracked pillars, choked vines, and shattered stone mosaics depicting scenes you couldn’t even decipher anymore. A temple long lost to gods no one dared pray to now.

This was where demigods vanished. This was where the trail led.

And whatever had taken them... was still here.

Heeseung stood beside you, silent as death, jaw tight. You didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. His presence was enough to make your chest tighten, equal parts loathing and adrenaline. His tension made you uncomfortable, his stillness made your pulse race.

Jungwon clutched his staff with shaky hands, peeking behind a fallen column. “I-I don’t like this place,” he whispered. “Smells like… something dead.”

“Probably us,” Heeseung muttered.

You shot him a glare, and he smirked without humor.

Then the wind changed. The fog shifted, the floor started to shake beneath your feet, and you looked around, the air starting to feel extremely heavy, every pore in your skin jumped, your heart beating like crazy in your chest.

And the thing stepped out.

It was like nothing you'd ever seen. Towering, malformed, stitched together with parts that didn’t belong to the same species, horns curling out of what looked like a human skull, arms bending backwards, dozens of eyes blinking across its ribs. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of jagged, wet teeth.

No one moved. Not even the monster. It just stared.

And then it lunged.

You didn’t think. Just moved.

Steel met shadow. Your blade bit deep into flesh that didn’t bleed, and Heeseung’s axe slammed into bone that didn’t break. Jungwon cast, missing more than he hit, his hooves skidding on the moss-covered stone.

It was chaos.

You were fast, but it was faster. You dodged one strike, only to be clipped by a tail like a whip, flung backwards across the marble floor. Pain sparked down your spine, but you rolled, came up slashing.

Heeseung held his ground, screaming wordless rage, his swings wild but deliberate. Until the beast caught him. Slammed him into a column so hard you felt the impact in your teeth.

He dropped.

Your heart stopped.

You screamed his name before you could stop yourself.

And then everything blurred.

You threw yourself between him and the beast. You didn’t even know what part you were hitting, you just kept swinging. You felt something snap. Something screech. The thing bled black smoke and shrieked like a dying god, and then crumbled.

Silence.

You collapsed to your knees beside him, panting, hand shaking as you reached out. “Heeseung…”

He was already pushing up, coughing blood, glaring at you with murder in his eyes. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I saved your life.”

He got up, brushing his jeans with his hands and taking his weapon from the ground, he didn't look at you.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“You would’ve died.”

“Then maybe I should’ve.” His voice was low, raw. “Better than being in your debt.”

You stood up, fury igniting in your chest. Even in this moment, even after all that happened, he was still acting like this, even after you saved his life.

“Gods, you are unbearable. You’re a fucking child. All this—this tough act—what is it even for? To prove you don’t need anyone?”

“I don’t.”

“You do. You’re just too full of your own pride to admit it.”

He walked towards you with heavy steps, towering, furious, blood dripping from his temple.

“I’d rather die than owe you anything.”

You smiled, lifting your shoulders, your heart was still pounding fast.

“Then maybe I’ll make sure next time I don’t stop it from happening.”

“Oh yeah?” He stepped into your space, face inches from yours. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Watching me bleed?”

“I think I’d enjoy it a little too much.” you responded, lifting your chin until his breath was crashing with your lips.

“You’re fucking twisted.”

“And you’re not?”

You were breathing hard now, chest to chest, practically vibrating with how much you wanted to scream, or kill him, or maybe both. Or even worse, how bad you wanted him to grab your throat and spit in your mouth like he did before.

Heeseung looked down at your lips. Then your neck. Then your hand still clutching the blood-stained hilt of your blade.

“I hate you,” he whispered, voice hoarse.

“I know.”

“I think about killing you every day.”

His pupils blew wide.

You didn’t blink. The worst part of all? You felt it, the shiver down your spine going down until it settled between your legs.

Then Jungwon’s voice, distantly from behind a shattered pillar: “Um... guys? Is it... dead-dead? Like permanently?”

You exhaled sharply and turned away, like he hadn’t just threatened to murder you while smiling. Like your heart wasn’t trying to break through your ribs.

You walked ahead. You didn’t speak again.

But the air between you? It was on fire.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

The artifact pulsed inside Jungwon’s satchel like a beating heart. The thing had been guarding it, or drawn to it, no one really knew. But it was recovered now. The disappearances were over. The quest was done.

But nothing felt finished.

You walked a step ahead of the group. Your legs ached. Your blade was dulled from the fight. You had a cut along your cheek you hadn’t bothered to heal.

And you could feel his eyes on your back.

Like heat. Like poison.

Heeseung walked in silence, unreadable. But his mind was loud. He hated that you’d saved him. Hated that it still haunted him hours later. Hated that he kept picturing the way you looked standing over him, blade dripping, hair soaked in sweat, face wild and beautiful and terrifying.

He hated you because you made him feel less.

Because in some twisted, humiliating way, you were everything he wasn’t. Stronger. Smarter. Colder. Better.

And he wanted you in a way that made him feel weak.

The war wasn’t over.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

Camp Half-Blood was never quiet, not really. Not with the clang of swords from the arena, the laughter from the Apollo cabin echoing across the fields, the scent of strawberries clinging to the warm breeze like a stubborn ghost.

But it felt quieter.

Or maybe that was just you.

You hadn’t spoken to him. Not once.

Since the return, you’d stayed surrounded by your siblings—laughing a little too hard, training a little too much, like distraction could bleach the memory of what happened in that garden. Of how his hand felt around your throat. Of how your name sounded coming from his lips, soaked in hatred and lust. Of the bruises on your hips, the burn between your thighs, the filthy way he had looked at you when it was over.

You hated him.

Gods, you hated him.

But you were losing sleep.

And no matter how many cold showers you took, or how many times you pressed your fingers between your legs at night pretending it wasn’t his voice echoing in your head—you couldn’t stop wanting him.

It made you furious.

Because it wasn’t just that you wanted him. You craved him with a kind of violence, like hunger sharpened into a blade. You remembered the way he had touched you like he was punishing you for something, the way he pulled you apart like he didn’t care if you survived it.

And worse?

You wanted him to do it again.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

Heeseung was losing his mind.

He didn’t look like it. No one would’ve guessed. On the outside, he was the same smug, violent bastard as always. Wiping the floor with sparring partners in the arena. Picking fights with Hermes kids for fun. Smirking like he had the world by the throat.

But on the inside?

He was fucking unraveling.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you, your mouth open in a silent gasp, the way your eyes turned teary, the way you clawed at him like you wanted to rip him in half and kiss him while you did it. The way your lips had curled around his name like a curse.

He didn’t understand it.

He didn’t want to understand it.

He hated you.

You were arrogant. Reckless. Always had something to prove. Always talking back. Always showing off. Always beating him, outsmarting him, getting under his skin.

You were a goddamn nightmare.

But his fists clenched every time he saw you across the camp, pretending like you didn’t feel it too. Like you hadn’t dug your nails into his shoulder blades and begged for more. Like you didn’t still dream about it, about him.

He wanted to break something. Preferably you.

Or maybe just break with you.

Because when you looked at him from across the dining pavilion with those narrowed, unreadable eyes, lips set in that perfect scowl, like you were daring him to come closer—

He had to look away before he did something insane.

Like kiss you again.

Or throw you down on the fucking table.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

It happened in the middle of the night.

The sky hung low over Camp Half-Blood, heavy with clouds that swallowed the moon. A storm teased the horizon, distant thunder rolling like the echo of war drums. The arena was silent save for the wind scraping across stone, and the sound of your heartbeat thundering against your ribs. Heeseung stood near the edge, hands flexing at his sides, shirtless again, bruises like ink stains across his chest. Moonlight bled over his skin like a curse.

He turned the second you stepped in. His eyes locked on yours, red-rimmed, wild. Dangerous.

And hungry.

Neither of you spoke for several long seconds. The air between you buzzed like electricity, like violence. Like memory.

“You following me now?” he sneered, voice low, rough, and dripping with venom. “Can’t go five days without crawling back?”

You laughed bitterly. “Don’t flatter yourself. I came here to hit something, not fuck a mistake.”

“Shame.” He stepped forward. “I thought you liked mistakes.”

The tension snapped tight between you.

And then you were in each other’s faces.

“Do you think about it?” he growled. “Late at night? When you’re trying to pretend you’re not obsessed with me?”

“Don’t kid yourself, Ares. You’re just something I put up with.”

His lips curled into a snarl.

“Liar.”

You slapped him.

The crack echoed.

His head snapped to the side, but he didn’t flinch. When he looked back, his jaw was set, and his eyes, god, they burned.

And then he lunged.

You slammed into the wall of the arena, your hands gripping his shoulders, legs kicking up instinctively—but he caught you, pressed his body flush to yours like a weapon, like an answer to a question you’d never admit you’d asked.

“I fucking hate you,” he growled, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. His breath was hot on your throat. “I hate your mouth. I hate how you look at me. I hate how badly I want you even when I want to tear you apart.”

You arched against him, nails dragging down his back.

“Then do it.”

He didn’t need another word.

His mouth crashed into yours, teeth and spit and blood and fury. It was a war in the shape of a kiss, brutal and breathless. His hands bruised your hips as he pushed you harder into the wall, grinding against you like he could erase the space between your bodies.

You kissed him back just as violently—bit his lip until it bled, dragged your fingers through his hair and yanked hard just to hear him groan.

His hand wrapped around your throat. Tight.

“You think you can take it again?” he hissed. “Think you can handle me without falling apart?”

“Try me, asshole.”

And he did.

It was all so fast, so primal, so violent. He ripped your clothes apart with hunger, shirt teared apart as well as your lacy bra, your breasts in front of him, bare, the cold air of the night making your nipples hard, and he buried his face in your chest, sucking, licking, biting, leaving marks in your soft skin, and you just moaned and squirmed and grabbed his hair and pulled it so hard he groaned against you. Then his other hand found your core, wet, dripping, embarrassingly needy, and he didn't wait to shove two fingers inside of you, thrusting them until his arm was veiny and his wrist was twisted.

"So soaked for me, you can't hide it. You're making a mess and i haven't done anything yet" his voice was low, filled with lust.

He didn't even prepared you properly, just filpped you over, your cheek against the cold floor, and grabbed your hips until your back was arched perfectly and your ass lifted. He slammed into you, hard, rough, deep, and you screamed high-pitched, your voice echoing in the empty arena, you didn't care, he felt so good, stretching you, you could feel every vein in his cock against your soaked walls, and you clenched around him, Heeseung thrusted his hips and you lost it, rocking yours against him to fuck yourself into him.

"Fuck yeah, there it is." he slapped your ass, hard, it burned, but it only made you whimper louder "You can hate me all you want, but you'll always be my cock drunk slut."

"F-Fuck you." your voice was broken, your eyes teary, but you couldn't stop, not when his heavy weight was on top of you, not when his hands grabbed your hips this tight.

"Yeah, i'll do it, every fucking day from now on" His skin crashed with yours, so rough, his thrusts were meant to break you, and they did.

You came embarrassingly fast, and incredibly hard, your pussy clenching around him, swallowing his cock, your body tense, the whole world blurring around you, a scream that hurt your throat leaving your mouth. And he didn't stop, he just chuckled, vicious and mean, and his hands grabbed your hair as he rolled his hips with so much force that your knees were trembling.

"You were born for this, born for me to use." You were crying now, but not from pain, just from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body, your pussy aching so good, overstimulated, pulsing. One of his hands squeezed your breasts as his thrusts became erratic, senseless, the hisses through his teeth guttural.

With a low groan, he came too, spilling his warm seed inside of you and you saw stars, filling you so good, and a strange relief came to your body, as if you had been so stressed and finally, you weren't anymore.

Heeseung pulled out, watching how your folds leaked his cum, his chest heaving, his hair sweaty.

Your body was sore and trembling, skin marked with teeth and nails and things you’d never confess, he didn’t look at you. You sat side by side in the dark, backs against the wall, breathing hard. Silent.

And then he said, “This isn’t going to stop.”

You turned your head slowly, heart still thudding.

“No,” you said. “It’s not.”

You both knew what it meant. You would keep hating. You would keep wanting. There was no peace between you, just this: teeth, nails, blood, and heat.

And gods help you, you never wanted it to stop.

🗡 ⠀ ◗ུ⃨ ᭢᭨

this took me so long because i suck at writing action scenes but i hope it’s not that bad :(

thank u so much for reading!! hope you liked it, if so, please like and reblog !!

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[classica-meretrix]

Family Resemblance

pairing: percy jackson x aphrodite!reader genre: fluff content/warnings: reader isn't actually in this, just mentioned. piper and leo are here for plot, use of y/n, mentions of a quest summary: percy meets the goddess of love and notices a shocking family resemblance to one of his friends back home

"Let's get the girdle and get out of here," Percy huffed. "I don't want to stay any longer than we need to."

"Couldn't agree more," Piper muttered.

Percy led the way down the path, steering clear of as many tourists as they could. They were all dressed for the warm weather, buzzing about how excited they were to see the attraction, though they were all headed away from the beach. Percy trudged ahead, trying to not let it bother him.

The path opened out to a thin stretch of grey sand, completely empty despite the crowds they'd just passed. The water was a shimmering teal, lapping at the shore. A monstrous rock jutted out from the beach, surrounded my smaller clusters.

One rock however, stood out amongst the rest. It sat alone, maybe twenty feet from shore. It was darker than the others, and for the most part fairly round. Atop stood a woman in a long billowing dress, a train of white fluttering in the breeze. She faced away from them, facing the ocean. It might've just been the distance, but Percy couldn't quite figure out what she looked like.

By Piper's sigh, Percy was certain that was the goddess. Though it wouldn't have been hard to figure out. Even without being able to decipher her appearance and her facing away from them, he could still tell she was shocking beautiful.

"Wow," Leo said, his mouth agape. "So that must your mom."

"Yep." Piper didn't sound particularly happy to be here, her tone exasperated.

"Let's get this over with." Percy started towards the shore, Piper and Leo following. He had met the love goddess before, and it hadn't been the most pleasant experience. She had an affinity for meddling, and given the past few days, that was the last thing he needed.

Once they reached the shoreline they stopped, Piper and Leo each coming to flank Percy.

"Do you think she knows we're here?" Leo asked.

"Lady Aphrodite!" Percy called. The goddess didn't react. She looked like a statue, completely still besides her hair and dress floating behind her in the breeze.

"Mom!" Piper yelled into the wind. Nothing.

"Can we like... Throw something at her?" Leo suggested, eyeing up the baseball sized rocks along the beach.

"We can't hurl things at a goddess!" Piper protested, giving him a look of disbelief.

"We're going to have to swim." Percy stepped forward as he spoke, the waves lapping his shoes.

"Okay, fish boy. One problem. We aren't quite accustomed to the water," Leo reminded.

"The water's pretty choppy," Piper added.

"Trust me. I'll have the waves carry us."

"Whatever, man." Leo held his hands up in surrender, wading into the sea. The bright blue foamed around his ankles as it hit him.

Percy stepped further into the water, willing it to carry them forward. Piper let out a shocked squeal as the sea grabbed her, pulling her in. They were at the rock in no time, the waves even more pliable then usual, almost as if Aphrodite was pulling them towards her. But that was impossible, she had no control over the sea. Right?

The water threw them onto the stone, landing with harsh thuds. Leo groaned, pushing himself to his knees.

"You gotta work on that dismount, man."

"It wasn't me," Percy struggled out, trying to catch his breath as he stumbled to his feet.

The rock was plenty big enough for the four of them. Aphrodite stayed unmoving, watching the waves as if they weren't there.

"Uh... Is she okay?" Leo questioned. Piper had become eerily quiet, not looking at her mother.

"It's it beautiful?" The goddess finally spoke, her voice as rich as fresh honey. "I was born from the very seafoam that surrounds this rock. This water is the essence of love." Her voice was dreamy as she spoke, as if in a trance.

"Mom, we're here about—"

"The girdle," Aphrodite answered, turning around. Leo took a sharp gasp of air as she spun, clearly floored by his first impression of the goddess. Percy and Piper however kept their cool, having become somewhat accustomed to her beauty. "Yes, I know."

Aphrodite's form seemed to flicker, her hair changing colors, her features molding into one version after another, each more beautiful than the last. She settled quickly however, on a form similar to the one Percy had seen her in before, but this time something seemed... different.

He couldn't deny the family resemblance between the goddess and Y/N. They looked practically identical. Sure, there were hints of Piper in the facade, but only in the small details they shared.

"Well," Piper began. "Where is it?"

"Oh," Aphrodite sighed. "I'd love to give it to you, but I'm afraid it's in the water." She gazed out at the blue again, a forlorn look in her eyes. Percy had the urge to comfort her, tell her it'd be okay, dive into the water, anything

What was wrong with him?

"The water?" Piper questioned.

"Yes, I'm afraid Zeus wasn't too happy with me after Hera borrowed it again. Zeus caught on much quicker this time, and he wasn't too happy about it. As they say, all is fair in love and war."

Percy was only half listening, distracted by the way the goddess' eyes sparkled just the same as Y/N's, or how her hair fell just the same.

"I never noticed how much they look alike," he muttered, mostly to himself. Aphrodite turned to him, a warm, knowing smile on her face.

"What?" Leo asked, seemingly in his own trance.

"Y/N. I've never noticed how much she looks like her mother."

Leo's face screwed up. "What?" he repeated. "Not at all."

Percy turned to him confusion. How couldn't he see it? There was no missing the way they even moved the same.

Piper cleared her throat, regaining their attention. She stared down at the rock, a thick blush across her cheeks.

"This girdle?" she reminded.

"Yes, yes," Aphrodite said. "Why don't you—" She pointed to Percy. "—fetch my girdle, then maybe I can help you with your little problem." There was a twinkle in her eye, one he learned years ago not to trust when it was coming from the gods, but her words threw him off.

"What problem?"

The goddess only laughed, a light, melodic sound. "How sweet. You will find my girdle a mile out, but beware, it is closely guarded by a cetus."

"A what?" he asked.

"Go along now!" Her voice was cheerful, waving him past her. He walked to the edge of the rock, where she had been standing, casting a glance back towards his friends.

"As for you two," Aphrodite continued, with complete disregard for Percy. "How about some tea?"

[7s3ven]

NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt 1

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N, after spending a decade at Camp Half-Blood, still remains unclaimed. Luckily, Luke is there to keep her company as her good friend. And to, perhaps, provide a bit more.

“I’m in the wind, you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

( follows the show - kind of just a oneshot bc i’m bored )

Warnings : fighting, violence, a little too much of a description about injuries

—

Nobody had been this excited about a new kid since three years ago, when a H/C-haired girl showed up holding a Harpy’s head. The new arrival had slain a Minotaur, which Clarisse wasn’t too happy about. She was convinced he was a liar.

Y/N sat in the Hermes cabin, closely inspecting her empty juice box. She had waken up an hour ago yet her good friend, Luke, still woke up earlier. She always wondered where he went in the early morning. Perhaps to get some sword training in before the day started. He was, after all, the best swordsman in camp.

The rays of sun poured through the window, bathing the wooden floor in light. A few of the Hermes kids groaned, knowing Luke would burst through the doors any second and force them to get up. He always did when the sun rose.

As expected, Luke kicked the door open. “Good morning!” He exclaimed, as energetic as ever. “The new kid’s coming today so get up and start cleaning! I’m mainly talking to you guys.” Luke sent the group in the corner a stern look and added, “Y/N, you’re fine.” He pointed at her with his usual boyish grin.

Lately, Y/N had been sleeping in Luke’s bed while he slept on the floor. They took turns switching. Lying on the ground for more than a decade now wasn’t good for the back.

After all this time, Y/N was still unclaimed. It usually took a week or less. Y/N was a prime example of the Gods above ignoring their children.

“He’s the one who killed the Minotaur, right?” Y/N questioned as Luke collapsed onto his mattress, partly to annoy Y/N who was sitting on it. The H/C-haired girl scoffed and playfully rolled her eyes, yet she couldn’t contain the amused smile on her face.

“Yeah. He can join your little monster slaying group. Let’s hope he gets claimed because I can’t deal with a boy version of you.” Luke teasingly grinned while Y/N scoffed and slapped his shoulder.

“You love my company.” She uttered, rolling her eyes.

Luke’s friends snickered to themselves. “More like he loves you.” One whispered to another.

“What’s his name again?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side. “Was it… Tom?” Luke stared at her in disbelief before lightly snorting.

“You’re way off, Y/N. Stop thinking, you’ll hurt that tiny brain of your’s. Just do what you do best; sit still and look cute.” Luke ruffled her tidy hair, turning it into a bird’s nest again.

Y/N flung a pillow at him, and glowered at the Hermes boy. “I’m going to kick your ass in capture the flag.” She threatened, poking his shoulder. Clarisse, out of all people, was her best friend. So naturally, she teamed up with her.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, princess.” Luke lightly shoved her which caused Y/N to gasp in disbelief.

“Don’t push a lady, Luke!”

The other campers, already used to their antics, just chuckled. “Hey, love birds!” One of the unclaimed kids exclaimed. “Get a room!” With her smart she was, Y/N assumed she was Athena’s child.

Y/N and Luke liked to play a silly game where they guessed which camper belonged to which godly parent. It was fun. Luke was never wrong until the day he tried to guess Y/N’s.

A year ago, he guessed Aphrodite. His explanation? Because she was charming and she had a certain aura that followed her. And because she was pretty. That was the only time he was wrong because Y/N never ended up in a cabin.

“So, what do you think of the new kid? Which cabin?” Y/N asked as she and Luke walked outside. He shoved his hands into his pockets, laughing.

“Tough call. I haven’t even met him yet. Apollo, maybe?” Luke shrugged and frowned. “I’ll tell ya my guess when I see him.”

“I’m guessing… Poseidon.” Y/N uttered, earning a light snort from Luke.

“No way. Is that your confirmed guess? Being a child of Poseidon would mean being a forbidden child.”

The game had a few rules.

One. You can only take a single guess and once you confirm it, you can’t change it.

Two. You can’t ask the kid you’re talking about. Luke considers that cheating. You can only observe them.

Three. No asking Annabeth because she’s always right.

“I guess. It’s not like I ever win, right?” Y/N laughed, grinning at Luke. He stared at her for a moment before returning her bright smile.

“I know we don’t usually make bets, but if your guess turns out right, I’ll willingly give up in the next capture the flag game after he’s claimed.” Luke puffed out his chest, certain Y/N wouldn’t win.

“And if you win?” She asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You give me your strawberries.” Luke had an obsession with strawberries that everybody, even the gods above, knew about.

“You’re on, Luke.” Y/N held out her hand with her lips curved up into a teasing smirk.

“Good luck, princess. Looks like I’ll be taking all your strawberries.” Luke ran his tongue over his teeth, already being able to taste the sweet, red fruit in his mouth.

He walked off, playfully winking at Y/N. Clarisse, who saw the whole conversation go down, hurried over to Y/N. “Looks like you and lover boy have a bet going in.” She smirked, raising both her eyebrows. “You two are cute together.”

“Don’t mess with me, Clari. We’re just friends.” Y/N rolled her eyes at what her friend was suggesting. She had been friends with Luke for three years now and she had known him for even longer.

“Are you just friends… or you want to be more?” Clarisse leaned forward with that taunting glint in her beautiful eyes. Y/N groaned, shoving her away. Clarisse simply laughed. “Come on, princess.” She mocked.

“Oh, come on, Risse.” That was a horrid nickname given to Clarisse by an Apollo boy who seemed to be obsessed with her.

“Shut up!” Clarisse exclaimed, eyeing Y/N up and down in disgust as if she was the Apollo boy. “You know how I feel about him!”

“And you know how I feel about Luke.”

“Yeah… but do you?” Clarisse tilted her head to the side before her gaze flickered to something, or rather someone, behind Y/N. “The Minotaur kid is out.” She grumbled and sharply clicked her tongue.

“Great. I can see if my stupid guess was correct.” Y/N glanced over her shoulder, watching the boy walk beside Chiron. His hair was curled, much like Luke’s, and blond. Clarisse had wandered off in the midst of Y/N’s staring, but she didn’t mind.

Suddenly, the boy lifted his head. His eyes clashed with Y/N’s, and he almost jumped at how intensely she was staring at him. Y/N merely smiled before turning away.

“So, what do you think?” She asked Luke as they walked towards the Hermes cabin side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other.

“Hard to say for now.” Luke replied. Y/N looked at him and he stared back before the pair burst into quiet laughter. Just locking eyes could make two friends find anything hilarious.

“I assume you’ll take him under your wing? Good luck.” Y/N nudged him with her elbow, which seemed to be a normal gesture between them.

“Thanks, princess. See ya.”

Y/N turned around, almost crashing into a disoriented Percy Jackson. He seemed jumpy and panicked. Of course, how couldn’t he be? He had just unknowingly killed a monster and his mother had been taken.

“Hi. The first day is always rough. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Y/N muttered to him before she passed by.

She didn’t stick around to hear Chiron announce him. She sighed, wandering aimlessly around the camp. She saw Clarisse talking to her siblings. Y/N had always wondered what it was like to have siblings you could relate to. What did it feel like to understand each other? To go through the same difficulties?

The Hermes cabin was comfortable and friendly enough but it wasn’t the same. She wanted to feel what a true family felt like, or at least was supposed to.

As Y/N had expected, Luke was the first to talk to Percy.

“I’m Luke.” He introduced himself to the boy after the rocky start to their conversation.

“Percy. Hey, uh, who was that girl before? The H/C-haired one?” He questioned, clearing his throat.

“Y/N. She’s nice most of the time the time but a pain in the ass during capture the flag.” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m just kidding. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

“You guys seem close.” Percy uttered, remembering the way Luke looked at Y/N when they talked.

“Yeah. She’s my best friend. Unfortunately for me, her best friend is an aggressive Ares kid.” He grinned, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Feel free to lie down anywhere. Just don’t get too close to Y/N. If she’s having a monster dream, she kicks in her sleep.”

One of the campers across the cabin groaned. “I know how that feels. The bruise lasted for weeks!” The others burst into laughter while Percy hurriedly made a mental note.

Avoid the pretty girl when she sleeps.

Percy was lucky that Y/N, who lay on the floor a few feet away from him, wasn’t having one of her infamous nightmares. He couldn’t say the same for himself, though.

Percy sat up, panting and sweating. He looked around, realising where he was. Birds chirped in the distant and he could hear the faint sound of chatter through the wooden walls.

“You okay?” Luke asked.

“Super.” Percy sarcastically responded.

“We all have them here, you know.” Luke clicked his tongue and sighed. “Intense, reoccurring nightmares. That’s normal here. Take Y/N for example. When she first came here, no one wanted to get near her while she slept. Girl’s a bloody good kicker.”

Percy lightly chuckled while Luke smiled. “The daydreams and ADHA and dyslexia are normal too. Demigods just process reality differently than humans do. For the first time in your life, you’re just like everyone else.”

“So, are you also…” Percy trailed off, not wanting to sound rude to his first friend at camp.

Luke found his hesitation amusing. “Am I unclaimed? No. Hermes is my father.”

“And Y/N? Is her father also Hermes?”

Luke scrunched up his face like he had just eaten a sour lemon. “Oh, no. Heck no. Y/N’s unclaimed… still. She has been for a while.” The brunette pressed his lips into a thin line as he gazed at Y/N, who was laughing with Clarisse.

“Why hasn’t Aphrodite claimed her? I mean, she looks the part.”

“That’s what we’re all asking ourselves. We all thought she’d be Aphrodite’s kid.”

Boys and girls flocked towards Y/N like she was a muse. It was no secret that out of all the campers, Y/N stood out the most. There was something unique about her, how she always hung around the aggressive Ares kids like she wanted to be one of them.

She was a tough opponent but a little too soft for Ares’ liking.

Too gentle for Ares but too angry for Aphrodite. She was constantly stuck in the middle. It almost seemed like no god or goddess wanted her in their cabin because she had proved herself over and over again.

“How long has she been unclaimed?” Percy inquired. Kids before him had asked that very same question and every time, they were never ready for the answer.

“A decade.” Luke replied, “She’s been here for a decade. Last year, there was a stupid rumour going around that she was fully mortal but that doesn’t make sense. If she was, she wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“Why so long?”

“Nobody knows.” Luke shrugged. He had wondered that too. And he could see how it was weighing down on Y/N. The unclaimed kid was what campers referred to her as. They used her as an example of what not to do.

“Will she ever get claimed?”

Luke hoped she would. For her sake. He knew how she felt about not having a related family of her own. For now, she was satisfied laughing over silly tales with the Hermes kids.

“So, where does she go during the day? She disappeared yesterday and today.” Percy tilted his head to the side, not being able to spot Y/N anymore. Luke paused. It was uncommon for him to not have an answer to everything.

“I… don’t know. I assume Clarisse and her go somewhere.”

“Probably swimming in the lake.” Grover said, overhearing the two’s conversation.

It was scorching during Summer at Camp Half-Blood. Most stayed in the shade while an occasional kid or two tended to the plants. So it would make sense that Y/N would go to a lake to cool off.

Luke left Percy in the company of Grover and made his way towards the Lake in the middle of the forest. As Grover guessed, he found Y/N and Clarisse and a few other Ares kids swimming in the water or sitting on the nearby rocks.

“Hey, Y/N, your lover boy is here!” One of them exclaimed. Y/N, from her spot in the middle of the lake, glared at him. She huffed before swimming over to Luke, easily heaving herself onto shore.

“Hey, Luke, ready to make your guess yet?” She asked, grinning up at him. “Or do you wanna swim?”

“My guess is definitely not Hephaestus.” Luke said as he sat down in front of Y/N. His gaze flickered to her new swimsuit. “New bathing suit?”

“Yeah. Miya got it for me.” Miya was a child of Aphrodite and favored Y/N quite a lot.

“Ah. No wonder it’s so…” Luke hesitated, “Revealing.” He tried to act like a gentleman but his cheeks flushed every time he even looked at Y/N.

“One more day until I kick your ass.” Y/N laughed as she sank back into the water, returning a moment later with her hair dripping wet and her face shining in the sunlight. She looked effortlessly angelic.

“Are you sure you’re ready to handle Y/N again, Luke? She almost beat you last time.” Clarisse snickered as she floated on her back.

Luke scoffed. “Keyword. Almost.” It was true that Y/N had almost beaten him in his own game of sword fighting but that was because she was becoming increasingly more distracting.

Gone was the shy and quiet kid who always trailed behind Clarisse. With every passing year, Y/N became more headstrong and, well, beautiful. That’s why it was so hard for Luke to keep his feelings to himself now. Even Clarisse could see through his facade.

“I’m ready to make my guess.” Luke finally announced, catching Y/N’s wavering attention. She arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “My guess… is Demeter. I met the kid and he seems gentle. A soft and kind soul.”

“Nice. I guess we’ll find out soon.” Y/N’s guess was nothing but a joke and she’d end up laughing if she was actually correct.

“Join me for a little swim?” Y/N asked, reaching out to tug on Luke’s shirt. He sighed while Y/N merely smiled. A moment later, he gave in. Luke lifted his shirt over his head while Y/N stared at him a little too shamelessly for her liking. Some of the Ares boys teasingly wolf-whistled which made Luke chuckle.

He jumped into the lake, practically tackling Y/N and taking her under with him. “Luke!” She yelled, hitting his shoulder when they resurfaced.

“Oh no. The married couple is fighting again.” Zyra, Clarisse’s half-sister, said. She and Clarisse shared a knowing grin.

“They’re so whipped.” Clarisse whispered, subtly swimming away to give the two more space.

It was the day Y/N had eagerly been waiting for. Perhaps her favourite day at Camp. Capture the flag day.

Clarisse handed Y/N a spear. “I got it fixed for you.” The brunette said. During the last game, Y/N’s spear had broken. She was forced to fight with half of it after that.

Y/N adjusted Clarisse’s armour, ensuring that it was tight enough before putting on her own helmet.

“You’re gonna love this.” She overhead Luke say to Percy as they passed by. “Camp-wide mock warfare. All glory to the victors. Annabeth’s the head counsellor. She’s led our team to three straight wins.”

Y/N looked away, giving Luke the perfect chance to gaze over at her. “Y/N and Clarisse lead the other team. Clarisse is rather… impulsive, though. Y/N’s come up with some good plans but Ares kids always go off the rails.”

“What’s the deal with you and Y/N anyway?” Percy suddenly switched the topic, much to Luke’s surprise. “I mean, you guys say you’re just friends but you’re always looking at each other. And talking. And you stare at her like she’s your world. Sometimes I wish I could look at someone like that.” Percy sighed while Luke was left speechless.

Luke cleared his throat and shook his head. “Let’s just… focus on the game.”

The conch shell blew. Y/N stood side Clarisse, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Heroes, it’s time.” Chiron announced. “The game begins. The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor. As always, there will be no maiming and no killing. I trust these rules will be respected.”

He subtly glanced over at Clarisse and her cabin.

“Let the games begin.”

There was twenty minutes until the next conch shell, which meant game-on. Normally, Clarisse and Y/N would pair up and hunt through the woods for the first few hours. But Clarisse had a different idea this time.

“Good luck.” Y/N said to her friend, slinging her spear over her shoulder. Y/N split up with the rest of her team, taking with her small portion of campers.

“We follow Clarisse’s plan this time. We’re the last defense meaning that if the blue team manages to get through, we fight like our lives depend on it.” Y/N said as she gripped her spear tightly.

“What are going to do?” Someone else asked.

“I’m going to…. look around.”

Luke grunted as a sword piercing his upper arm. He easily disarmed his opponent and kicked them to the ground.

“We give up.” The red leader grumbled, wincing as their brushed their fingers over his cuts.

“I wanna move quick. Straight through the woods for their flag.” Luke uttered.

“Y/N and Clarisse hunt in those woods for the first few hours, you know that. They’ll cut us down.”

Luke grinned, shaking his head. “Annabeth has a plan for Clarisse. And Y/N, as always, is mine. Don’t worry about her.”

“Last time I didn’t worry about her, she almost chopped my head off. By accident!” Chris loudly exclaimed, shoving Luke. Unbeknownst to the pair, Y/N was watching from above in the trees, hidden by the thick leaves.

She skilfully hopped from branch to branch, sliding down in front of her teammates. “The blue team is coming. They got past the other defences. Get in position.” Y/N hid behind a thick tree branch, panting and listening carefully for the sound of Luke’s voice.

She heard a twig snap and peeked her head out slightly to see Luke, Chris, and the rest of their small team. Y/N looked up, signalling to her friends above that it was almost time.

The moment Luke, who was leading the pack, stepped right where Y/N wanted him, she revealed herself. “Now!” She shouted, raising her spear and striking Luke. He easily blocked her attack.

“Thought you could ambush us, princess? Nice try.” Luke chuckled, pushing Y/N back.

“I’d say that it worked just fine.” Y/N retorted, lunging at Luke again. She pinned him to a nearby tree, holding the blade of her spear to his throat.

Chris grabbed Y/N by her shirt, pulling her back. Luke swung his sword at her but Y/N simply ducked to avoid the blow.

She tried to run off to help her teammates but Luke blocked her path. “Where do you think you’re going?” He uttered, playfully furrowing his eyebrows.

Y/N scoffed, kicking his ankles. She pointed at spear at his chest, poking it ever so slightly. “Ready to give up, Luke?”

“In your dreams.” He rolled over, latching onto Y/N’s arm and pulling her down with him. Y/N yelped, quickly scrambling up before he could grab her again.

She looked around at her surroundings, finally understanding what Luke’s plan was. It was to keep Y/N away from her team so that Luke’s could take them down. That left Y/N solely alone, standing between the flag and the blue team.

She panted, glaring at Luke. “Bring it on, Luke.” She muttered, holding up her spear. Luke was the first to make a move. He jumped at her, swinging his blade. Y/N dodged it and blocked another attack from Chris.

She quickly lowered her head, tackling another Hermes kid. Y/N rolled across the floor, swiftly standing up. “You won’t be getting near that flag on my watch.” She kicked Luke and whacked Chris. One of the Athena girls launched herself at Y/N, gripping onto her leg.

Y/N shook her off but the girl’s weight caused her to topple over. The bits of debris grazed at her skin. Chris swung his sword, slashing at Y/N. The blade cut her lower arm and blood welled up from the slit.

Quietly groaning, Y/N heaved herself up. She lightly swayed, unbalanced and a little weak. “Like I said,” She murmured, “You aren’t getting that flag.”

Y/N blocked every attack and blow aimed her way but she was getting slow. She could barely lift her weapon fast enough to stop Luke from successfully landing a hit.

Everything was becoming too overwhelming as she struggled to keep up. It was all a fast blur filled with weapons violently clashing against each other and shouting.

Up above, thunder crashed and lightning flickered through the darkening sky. Rain poured down, drenching the campers.

The thunder got louder and the lightning brighter as the seconds passed until nobody could ignore it. A harsh flash of lightning hit a tree nearby, setting it alight.

“Y/N, watch out!” Luke shouted, reaching out. Strings of electricity rippled around Y/N as a burning tree branch fell towards her. Luke sprinted towards her, dropping his sword in the process. He tackled Y/N, shielding her from harm’s way.

She groaned as she hit her head, black dots swirling around in her vision. She felt numb and her head lolled to the side as she heard shouts of victory followed by gasps of surprise.

“Y/N L/N has been claimed by Zeus, the king of Gods and the God of thunder and ruler of the sky.”

[graciepasty]

Camp Half-Blood. Percy Jackson and the Olympians (2005).

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

🍇DIONYSUS; God of Wine making, fertility, theater, festivity, and insanity. 🎭

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

You get claimed in an untypical manner. You heard of demigods waiting for a sign of their godly parent claiming them, with a glowing symbol above their head. Instead, when you get introduced to the camp members, Mr. D appears carrying a can of diet coke and casually states “No need to put them in the Hermes’ cabin. They're one of mine's”

Cue the record scratch. This immediately brings a lot of confusion and gossip. Many eyes look between you and Mr. D who doesn't seem bothered at all. You saw Chiron sigh and place his hand to his face, giving your godly father a disappointed headshake. Then you hear Castor and Pollux yell that they have a new sibling that they didn't even know about?!

You get a lot of looks of sympathy and jealousy. You don't figure out why until a little bit later on. Chiron fills you in with a reassuring voice but also speaks with an exasperated tone to Dionysus 

Although you guys can't make wine or touch anything alcohol related, you did inherit Dioynsus' wine making skills. This includes also being good at making infused drinks or mixing drinks that range from mixing soda flavours together to making your tea blend. Even if the flavours shouldn't work together or whatever the drink type you're making, you just can. You are your own personal barista.

Putting this first and out of the way, you're both in a blessed and awkward situation where you are able to see and interact with your godly parent. Mr. D tries to treat you like every other demigod in Camp Halfblood, and that makes it awkward when you don't know if you should call him “Dad” or “Mr. D”, but at the same time, you know you have it better then others. 

It doesn't mean Mr. D doesn't keep an eye out. When you dedicate your offerings to the gods and look at him when you do it, you can just see Dionysus’ face soften and his eyes have a hint of affection. 

Don't ask how you or your other half-siblings came to be if Mr. D was sentenced to Camp Halfblood. You won't get an answer from but at least you know you're not alone and the twins are glad to have a baby sibling. Get ready for the youngest sibling treatment. 

Dionysus is the God of Theatre so you have a theatrical flare. Even if you're introverted, you're not exempt; this can be applied in how you do certain things or be rather convincing at times. If you're extroverted, well, you're automatically the Theatre kid. 

This turns out to be rather useful in events like Capture the Flag in a state of mania. When the heat of the battle starts to get to you, you feel your godly parent's power begin to rise in you and you can use that theaters flair to rouse your teammate's spirits up. You can also get a bit maniac and effect your teammates and enemies alike and become rather terrifying. 

You have a bit of a green thumb so you can find some solace with the Demeter kids. However, unlike the Demeter kids who can just make plants grow and flourish, your green thumb only really applies to plants you have an interest in like Dionysus with his grapes…or now strawberries. Regardless, you can keep a houseplant alive at least. 

Aside from a few very selected people within Camp, you're one of the few people who has seen Mr.D's true form. Not his godly form or the Mr. D you've seen, but the form he usually shows in front of mortals. Then it becomes very obvious how your other parent became so enamoured. You thank him silently for taking up his current form because you’re not going to be ready to hear about Mr. D being a DILF.

“Welcome to Cabin 12!” greeted Castor and Pollux as they opened the door to the cabin. You looked inside and saw how lived in the cabin was. It was clear the twins didn't expect to have another sibling and judging by the absolute shock that your shared father was supposed to be stuck in Camp, they really didn't expect him to have another mortal child.   

You also noticed on one of their nightstands there were stacks of Coke and Pepsi, each belonging to one of the beds. There were copious amounts of it, and you wonder if being a child of Dionysus was a prerequisite of having a drink as your go-to drink. Like wine fo Dionysus…though you heard he had to switch to Diet Coke due to his punishment. 

“Yeah, sorry for the whole…mess,” said Castor as he looked sheepish. “Pollux and I weren't expecting anyone else to be here, especially since it's been so long since we've first arrived. And you know, our dad, being, well-”

Pollux cleared his throat, “What Castor means, despite everything, we're thrilled to have a baby sibling. We've always been together so we're not that alone, but every now and again, we kind of get envious of the other cabins and having other siblings.”

You smiled when the door is knocked and a new bunk bed is being brought in, Castor and Pollux grinned at you. “Come on, let's get your stuff and space ready, and let's go see our dad.”

[writings-of-a-demigod]

“Hey, I got you some ice cream”

You heard the voice of Jim Street next to you as he held the ice cream in front of your face making you smile.

“Thanks” you took the ice cream “What’s the occasion?”

“You were complaining how hot it was today, so I thought about getting you ice cream while we took a call.” He explained smiling.

You let out a dramatic gasp with an open mouth “Officer Street are you telling me that while your team was out there chasing a criminal you went to get ice cream?”

He chuckles at you “No, I meant after”

As you were eating the ice cream “Well it’s ice cream I don’t care if some bad guy was running around the city I have the best thing known to man.”

Street knew your love for ice cream so he knows this would make your day, Deacon and Hondo made their way to you as they heard your statement.

“Don’t let Higgs hear you saying that.” Hondo said as he chuckles.

“He would think you would sell the entire LAPD for ice cream if someone bribed you.” Deacon commented.

You looked at him as you ate “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t do that.”

The man stood there shocked, that’s when you, Street and Hondo burst into laughter. All through the day after every call one of the guys got you something, you got ice cream, iced coffee, smoothie whatever it was it was cold and you were thankful for that. At the end of the day when your shift ended you were in pain as you were making your way out of the building, the guys were in front of you when Luca turned to look at you.

“What’s wrong with you? You don’t look good.” He tells you.

Everyone turned to look at you.

“I think all the things I got today kind of effected my stomach” you tell them “Next time I complain of the heat just throw me in an ice bath okay” you groan.

They laughed at your comment and Luca gave you a pill to help with the stomachache.

A/N: finally wrote something.

[krkiiz]

mastermind . luke castellan x reader

maybe the things that led luke to you were never accidental at all

luke castellan x f!reader . reader is the daughter of demeter . tooth rotting fluff , established relationship , nicknames

note : this is inspired by mother tay tay’s song “mastermind” (one of my fav songs in midnights frr) not edited! sorry for some mistakes. Hope you enjoy <3

The camp was never silent. Songs of birds echoed all across the painted skies, gallops of pegasus clapping through the fields, chatters of the half-bloods, sounds of clashing swords, shots of arrows. The camp was never silent.

Yet the two of you sat on the edge of a cliff, the camp’s background noises fully muted, too engrossed with each other’s presence as your hands interlaced as one.

From the top, you could see the overview of the camp. As the sun sets on the west, you get the best view of the skies painted in an orange hue, with hints of blue as the moon begins to rise.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Eyes still on the canvas of clouds, you asked your boyfriend beside you.

“Of course I do, flower.” A small chuckle blew from his lips. “How could I ever forget.” The boy smiled, recalling his encounter with you a few months back.

You tore your gaze from the orange hues to the boy by your side, raising an eyebrow of amusement.

“No, literally. I tripped and got stuck on a vine, and you helped me. It was so embarrassing, I swear, sunshine.” You tilt your head back, erupting in laughter as your boyfriend covered his face that was now as red as strawberries that grew in the camp’s garden.

“That was hell of a first impression, though.” You pointed out. “What were you even doing in the woods alone, by the way?” You asked the boy, curiosity grew in your heart akin to sprouting apples on a tree.

“I don’t know, I guess I felt drawn.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“Drawn? To the forest?”

“To you, flower.” He winked and you rolled your eyes playfully. “Ew Luke, get away or I’ll push you off this cliff right now.”

Luke glowed as he dove into the epiphany of laughters and you joined soon after. “I’m just kidding.” He pinched your cheek softly triggering a frown from you.

“Do you remember the next time that we met?” You tore your gaze from your boyfriend, eyes now settling on the deep blue that was slowly taking over the horizon as the orange tinge melts in the west. The setting sun was truly a sight to behold. But to Luke, no creations of the gods or even titans could ever compare to the beauty of the demigod by his side

Not hearing an answer, you turned your head towards the curly haired boy, the view of his pupils dilating as your e/c hues melted into his own clear as daylight. “Love? Is everything alright?”

Luke now understood how Hades had fall for Persephone as he had found himself entranced by the beauty of another one of Demeter’s daughter before him. The light breeze flushed against your cheeks, how you would always look beautiful even when your hair becomes a mess after training. How your skin glowed in sunlight rivaling Apollo’s children themselves. To Luke, you are his epitome of beauty. Like a single rose that stood amidst thorn bushes. But he has to be careful. One prick is all it takes to let his heart bleed out in his hands.

“Hm? Oh yeah everything’s fine. Don’t worry, darling.” He shifted closer, his fingers grazing yours. “Anyways as you were asking, yes I remember our second meeting. And our meetings after that and after that.” He smiled, recalling the memories.

“We keep meeting up by accident after that first meeting.” He chuckled softly.

You hummed. “Don’t you think it’s weird though? How we keep meeting accidentally after that?” You tilt your head slightly.

“Maybe fate brought us together. Who knows?”

“Yes…” You trailed off. “Or maybe it’s something else.” You started playing with his fingers that was laced with yours, but your eyes remained on him as you observed the slightest shift in his visage.

“What are you saying, flower?”

“What if I told you that…none of it was ever accidental at all?”

Silence engulfed you in the shape of a cold, harsh breeze. The sun was long gone by now. From here, you could see the luminescent glow of Artemis’ vacant cabin, as well as the campfire that brew from the other campers.

Your heart ached at the gap between you as Luke as he slowly untangle your fingers. From outside, you look the same as ever, waiting patiently for his response. Inside however, your head was screaming in every corner, anxious thoughts clouding your thought bubbles as you think of every worst possible scenarios that might happen.

Great job! He probably think you’re a stalker now and wants to break up with you.

Break up? You didn’t want to break up with him! Of course not, you love him and he loves you! … Right?

The storm that was raining all over your thoughts were soon crushed by the slight upturn that formed on one of the corners of your boyfriend’s lip.

He noticed your slightly stiff stance, he took your departed hands once more, knowing it will ease your nerves. “I know, Yn.”

You always loved how your name rolled off his tongue. So effortlessly as it calls your given name with such love, such adoration. Yet it was his answer that got you off guard.

“Really?? You knew, after all this time?”

“You really think you can trick the son of the god of tricks?” He pointed out, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“This is so embarrassing.” You bury your blood-rushed cheeks into your palms and Luke smiled at the sight, admiring the red hue that settled on your ears and face.

“Hey don’t be! Truth be told, I only found out from the nymphs.” Your eyes lit up at his confession. Maybe your plan wasn’t that horrible after all. “Well I mean that only confirmed it. I had my suspicions about your little master plan after our third time of meeting accidentally.”

Your groan in your hands. “What did the nymphs tell you?”

“That you had a crush on me.” He paused looking at your tomato face. “And that you were too shy to make the first move.” He peeled your fingers from your cheeks, revealing the scarlet hues on your facial epidermis.

“It was impressive though, you little mastermind. It worked didn’t it?” He placed his palms on your cheeks, caressing it like a fragile vase.

You brought him closer, leaning your forehead against his as you brushes your lips on the tip of his nose. “Yeah. I guess it did.”

The demigod frowned as he missed the presence of your lips on his skin. He leant more forward, your noses grazed each other and he finally sealed the distance of your lips with a soft kiss.

The moon shone with a glow more ethereal than usual, the stars map out the skies like seas of glitter. You both dove head first into the epiphany of love. Lips press against another as nature becomes the witness of two demigods’ form of adoration.

©️ sirena | krkiiz 2023