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#the muscular 14 year old

azaarchiive · 18 days

Text

fanfic bakugou vs real size

sypnosis; katsuki finds you reading a fanfic about him

notes; suggestive, gn reader, fluff with katsukiii, long term established relationship, bakugo is a little ooc. 733 words

inspired by: @officialabortive (i tried to find the drabble but i couldn’t find it! anyways go show them some loveee)

‘katsuki’s muscular arms trapped you in between him and the kitchen island, his hot breath caressing your neck before you felt him speak.

“do you know why i call myself dynamite?” he whispered seductively.

“why?” you meekly responded, slowly turning to face him.

he leans closer to your ears before whispering,

“because i blow my load in bitches like you.” ’

soon, a loud laugh could be heard behind you, ripping you from your very steamy fantasy. only for you to realise the man himself was behind you, laughing his ass off.

“suki, w-what the fuck?! you scared me!” you stumbled over your words, shame spreading across your whole body.

“i can’t fucking believe i walked in on my partner reading this shit! oh fuck, i’m getting abs!” katsuki continued to cackle while you covered your face in embarrassment. this was the worst way to get caught.

“i was just interested! i was online and i saw that this was apparently the dynamite fanfic that everyone was raging over!” you attempted to defend yourself, but your excuses fell onto deaf ears and the sound of his obnoxious laughter getting louder to drown you out.

“i just can’t believe this, baby, you have the real thing right here!” katsuki climbed onto the couch with you, leaning his arm on the top of the couch while resting his chin on his fist.

“i know that, like i said, i was just interested!” you huffed.

“that line was insane though, maybe ill steal it next time. would you be into that? me ‘blowing my load’ into you?” katsuki smiled, trying to hide your laughter.

but your shy smile as you looked away just broke any restraint he had, and thus, he was bursting out laughing again.

“oh my god, you liked it, didn’t you?” katsuki accused.

“no i didn’t!” you whined, playfully pushing katsuki who barely even moved an inch.

“yes you did, look at how flustered your getting!” katsuki pointed at your face.

“oh come off it!” you slapped his finger away, picking up your phone again and turning away to have him face your back.

“going off to read more?” katsuki teased.

you stayed silent, sighing playfully as katsuki (unbeknownst to you) widened his mouth in shock.

“listen… the writing is really good!” you defended yourself whilst laughing.

“it was probably written by a 14 year old girl!” he exclaimed back to you.

“no actually, the writer here just turned 20.” you huffed.

“im still in shock, you have the katsuki bakugou in front of you, wiling to do whatever you want, yet you chose him. the guy with cheesy lines!” katsuki complained.

“don’t be jealous katsuki, it’s just that the storylines are so captivating. like, in one of them, you were a barista and i was a ceo- can i please explain the storyline properly without you laughing?” you paused while smiling as katsuki wheezed in front of you.

after a few second, he nodded, covering his mouth to contain whatever laughter he had left in him so you could continue.

“thank you, anyways, i was a ceo and you were the coffee barista and we fell in love over time since i kept coming back because the coffee you made was always really good. but then, your jealous ex, which was me actually, came and told me that you both were still dating and that you were just using me for my money. so then, i fell out of love for you, but then, 2 years later, you had graduated from UA and became a pro hero and saved me, so then we fell in love again and got married.” you explained.

“wait, they include you in these little stories?” katsuki asked.

“yep, im usually the jealous ex or the supportive best friend.” you replied.

“these people are so pathetic, you’re mine and always will be.” katsuki said, lunging at you, trapping you in a bear hug.

you screamed in laughter as he trapped you in his lethal hugs, the scent of his cologne wafting in your nose.

“you’re right, i’m your forever!” you giggled in his arms.

“exactly, don’t need no fanfic to tell you otherwise.” his voice was muffled as his face was in his neck.

god, you loved this man and no other fanfic version of him could ever capture how he was with you.

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svsss-fanon-exposed · 4 months

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Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 16/∞

LUO BINGHE HAS A "STEREOTYPICALLY MASCULINE" APPEARANCE

Rating: FANON - CONFLICTING

In fanworks, Luo Binghe is often portrayed as particularly muscular and buff, broad-shouldered, often with tanned skin and sharply-defined features-- all traits that are considered to be stereotypically masculine in the west.

All of this directly contradicts his canonical description.

Necessary disclaimer: I'm not talking against depicting Luo Binghe with a naturally darker skin tone. While that still contradicts the canonical description, I can understand going against colorism (something very rampant in east asian beauty standards!) in fanworks. This sort of discussion is particularly toward those who portray him as fair-skinned on Qing Jing Peak, darker skinned after the abyss, hence "tanned." While this sort of thing might have issues of its own, that's also not the topic of this post, and as a light-skinned Asian person, I don't feel particularly qualified to talk about it.

In truth, deep down, Bing-ge’s fair and clean pretty-boy type didn’t really suit the tastes of “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky.... The art of growing stallions was grounded in science, and the research was clear: women preferred men who looked cultured, pretty, and even a bit soft and feminine. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

The buff and bulky Luo Binghe often seen in fanworks is not what I would consider to be cultured, pretty, soft, and feminine.

Luo Binghe is described this way just before the conference:

A seventeen-year-old youth, slim and tall and graceful, dressed in white robes, lips turned upward in the hint of a smile, gazed at him with a pair of shining eyes. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

And again after his return:

The other party was a little taller than [Shen Qingqiu], slender and willowy, dressed in clothes as black as ink that exposed only a fair neck. (7 Seas, Ch. 7)

And a description of his hands later on:

That hand was slender and unadorned. It didn’t look like the hand of a young lord of the demon race who had already taken countless lives, but rather one whose master had been born to pluck strings, his hand to burn incense and bathe in snow. (7 Seas, Ch. 14)

Consistantly, Luo Binghe is depicted this way-- slender and refined, with fair skin and a softness to his appearance that contradicts his actions.

Furthermore, Luo Binghe is also described as looking very similar to his mother:

Luo Binghe was beautiful, and he looked quite like his birth mother. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

and

Yue Qingyuan’s knuckles slowly brushed along Xuan Su’s hilt. “I was able to meet Senior Su Xiyan once at an Immortal Alliance Conference, many years ago. Luo Binghe’s appearance is seven-tenths identical to his mother’s. (7 Seas, Ch. 18)

As for Su Xiyan's appearance, not much is directly stated-- it can be inferred that she likewise looked quite similar to Luo Binghe, but the only description of her physical appearance that we have is found here:

Even if she wasn’t burly and heavyset, she should at least look like a martial arts master with fierce and ferocious eyes. For all that, when he finally met the culprit behind Tianlang-Jun’s bout of philosophical soul-searching, which had tormented Zhuzhi-Lang for many days, he realized that the culprit in question was not quite like what he’d envisioned... ... Just as these two tourists were standing penniless in the street, a tall woman dressed in black strolled by, sword on her back. (7 Seas, Ch. 25)

The only positive descriptor here is that she is tall, but it can also be implied that she does not have the appearance of a martial arts master, and did not look as fierce and ferocious as Zhuzhi-lang expected, especially in terms of her eyes. However, she is described as a cold person-- whether or not that carried over into her appearance, though, is up for debate.

Su Xiyan's eyes are another matter for discussion--

In appearance, Luo Binghe resembled his mother Su Xiyan, but you could more or less see the shadow of his father in him. For example, in the eyes. Tianlang-Jun’s eyes were deep-set, his brow strong and heroic, the irises dark like fathomless water. In this, he and Luo Binghe were very much alike. Luo Binghe had a pretty boy appearance in the first place, but if his eyes had resembled his mother’s too, his face would have been excessively feminine and the effect would be lost. (7 Seas, Ch. 15)

Here, specifically, Luo Binghe is noted as having his father's strong brow and deep-set eyes, as opposed to his mothers, which based on this passage were most likely to be round, soft, and "feminine"-looking. It's also interesting to see that if not for having his father's eyes, Luo Binghe's features would be "excessively feminine," therefore implying that the softer look applies to all parts of his face except for his eyes and brows.

(thanks to @furbygoblinxiv , @bijoumikhawal for bringing up this point)

So, Luo Binghe is a lithe and petite pretty-boy. Nonetheless, he is still notably muscular. Specifically with a surprising amount of lean muscle-- something that Shen Qingqiu actually remarks on:

Luo Binghe was on top, and Shen Qingqiu was on the bottom, so he was smushed under a considerable weight and almost unable to draw another breath. What had this child been eating?! He looked quite slim, so how was he this heavy?! ... A person’s abdomen is supposed to be the softest spot on their body, but Luo Binghe’s was uncomfortably hard against Shen Qingqiu’s stomach. The farther down he pulled him, the more he was sure that Luo Binghe had an eight-pack. Was that a rock slab down there? (7 Seas, Ch. 16)

(thanks to @verycharismaticdragon for bringing up this point)

As for where the fan depiction of buff, tanned, "hyper-masculine" Luo Binghe may have originated?

I'm not certain where the first such depiction came from, but as for the logic behind it, such phenomena could be explained as thinking of Luo Binghe, the stallion protagonist, as having an "ideal masculine" appearance.

For western audiences and beauty standards, this would certainly be that same sort of muscular, tall, with tanned skin and defined features. Naturally, when first thinking of what a "stereotype of an ideal man" would look like, these traits would come to mind to a western audience.

It is a bit different in eastern standards. While muscular appearances can still be favored, lean muscle is vastly, vastly preferred over bulky muscle, and fair skin, which represents elegance and status (as those with fair skin tones are perceived as those who are wealthy, and do not need to work outdoors) is preferred over tanned skin. This is, of course, a generalization-- but as a representation of ideal masculinity, Luo Binghe's appearance would also be a generalization.

Particularly, Luo Binghe's figure and appearance is described not as those favored by men for themselves, but as those favored aesthetically by women. Therefore, that gentle, refined appearance is a must.

While western vs eastern beauty standards may play a role in this, it is also possible that western vs eastern character design standards may also be coming into play. While in eastern character design, things such as color and style of clothing and hair play a very large role in creating visual contrast, in terms of western designs, body shape and style, along with hair shape and style, seem to be far more important, with the idea that a character should be recognizable by silhouette alone. This may lead to western-trained artists, and also those who grew up watching primarily western cartoons, unconsciously applying those same standards to their own design-- such as making Luo Binghe broader-shouldered and with rounder shapes, the "heroic" type character design, in contrast to sharper, narrower shapes for Shen Qingqiu, the "villain" type character design.

(thanks to @gaywarcriminals , @mu-qingfang-stan-account , @temporoom for bringing up this explanation)

One additional possible reason would be the potential for heteronormative/"het-coding" standards being applied to a gay relationship, where the gong is being given more "traditionally masculine" features in order to align with gender roles. This is something that is fairly common in BL/MLM shipping and designs in general, so it wouldn't be unreasonable to think that it might apply in some fashion to Luo Binghe's fan-design as well (Note, this does not apply to actual fem/masc mlm pairs, because those do exist and it isn't always about heteronormativity. This is specifically referring to taking characters with roughly similar build like SQQ and LBH and making their designs distinctly more masc/fem based on who tops and who bottoms).

(thanks to @mysteryteacup and @gurggggleburgle for bringing this up)

As for the true source of these design elements, it probably cannot be narrowed down to just one-- rather, it would be an amalgamation of bits and pieces of all of the above, as well as the popularity and spread of certain designs throughout the fandom and artists taking inspiration from one another.

So often i've seen that Luo Binghe's bulk and muscles are shown as key traits of his physical appearance, despite the fact that this directly contradicts his actual depiction in the novel. Thus, it is inaccurate to depict him this way.

Luo Binghe's canonical body type and build is tall, slender, and willowy with lean musculature, and his features are soft and a bit effeminate. The best example I could give for reference would be to base his body type off of a pretty-boy type idol.

Of course, fanartists are perfectly free to continue drawing him however they please, but it should not be assumed that a Luo Binghe with bulky musculature, tanned skin, and sharp features is a canon-compliant depiction.

Luo Binghe is a pretty-boy.

#fanon exposed #conflicting #svsss #luo binghe #edited

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cranberryjuice-posts · 28 days

Note

Okay so like hear me out.

Reader went on a quest years ago when her and Clarisse were still young and they went missing/were pronounced dead. But in reality they got stuck in the Lotus Casino so when Chiron sent some campers to retrieve campers that he already knew were stuck there they found the supposedly “dead” reader playing in the arcade.

Reader goes back to camp and finds Clarisse after all these years and returns like some weapon or smth that Clarisse gave them so they could defend themselves. (Reader obviously aged somehow so theres no weird age gap or smth)

- harness your hopes -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

An - i tried to find a way to write this without a plot hole since in the lotus hotel you don’t age key example nico di-Angelo so I hope this helps some 😭😭

“It’s Vegas”

“No it’s the best place in America. AND! And they have legal gambling” you laughed walking along side clarisse down the streets of Las Vegas.

Being placed on a mission together you both had an older saytr leading. Your main assignment was to locate a demigod that was near by and to help return them to camp safely.

Brushing your hands against clarisses you blushed some, it was just a dumb crush. You were 13 and so was she anything that could between you both was just pointless. Contrasting your thoughts however clarisse slowly reached over taking your hand.

The saytr guide gave you both a teasing face causing clarisse to pull her hand away embarrassed. As the guide chuckled turning back to lead the way you patted your cheeks trying to make the burning feeling go away.

After about an hour you all decided on getting lunch. While just waiting outside with clarisse she tapped your shoulder making you look at her.

“Here.. I saw your dagger got broken in our last fight so have mine” she tried hard to play it off but you could tell she was really just trying to show a form of love.

“Thanks” you happily smiled taking the blade back. Looking down at the blade you could see in the reflection clarisse looking Away embarrassed. Cute

It was weird.

One minute you were running away from a hippalectryon, next you were laying on the ground with a glowing wolf over you? Then you woke up in a casino like hotel.

The following week felt unreal, gambling every once in a while. Finding other demigods and running around with them, meeting some kids who said the Roman gods were real? Weird. Even becoming friends with this small kid named nico who un-ironically liked mythomagic just as much as you.

Being so caught up in the moment you hadn’t realized your body and mind growing. On Monday you were happy to eat a tub of ice cream all day while most people treated you like a kid, on Tuesday you were schooling some little kid on why he shouldn’t cheat in games and the older demigods you had seen before suddenly invited you to hangout with them.

Sitting in the lounging area you saw a familiar set of bright orange shirts paired with some of your friends you had just met. Quickly getting up you jogged over. “Hey! Wait up!” Finally standing before them your happy face turned to confusion. “Chris..?”

The Chris you suddenly Remembered had been 14 and recently shaved his head as he lost a bet now.. he looked older, way more muscular than before and for some reason he seemed more mature.

“Holy shit” he spoke shocked. Almost scared he reached out grabbing your shoulders. “What’s your name” he cautiously spoke.

“Yn Chris when did you get so old” you shoved his hands off of you. You had been gone a week not a lifetime.

“Are You dead?” He asked earning him an unamused look from you. Placing your hands on your hips you gave a heavy sigh. “No I’m not dead why are you asking”

“Because you’ve been dead for three years”

…

What..

—

The ride back to camp was weird. While Travis and Connor drove the truck back to camp you talked with Chris as he updated you and all the campers with you that in-fact everyone was trapped with the lotus eaters.

Though what confused him and everyone else was how you were able to age and mature like a normal person.

Pulling your dagger out from your side you studied it ashamed. So much time passed without you.. your siblings grew up, the camp evolved, it was like you didn’t even belong in this timeline. Shining the celestial bronze blade a sudden memory came back to you.

A girl named clarisse came back to you. A girl named clarisse who you loved, came back to you. With that all the flustered emotions of a young teenager followed suit as well.

Stepping inside to camp a familiar sense of comfort washed over you. Three years later and the damn place still hadn’t changed.

Though the walk though camp was awkward to say the least. All your friends were 16/17 now and there was so many new kids and dead ones that it was honestly a lot.

Eventually you found yourself sitting in the Aphrodite cabin with silena, leaning on her bed laughing like it was old times.

“You know what!” The daughter Aphrodite smiled leaning over the side. “There’s a certain lesbian here who misses you”

“Who” You chuckled slowly remembering everything. Silena looked at you with a knowing look. “Wait clarisse?! No no she doesn’t— we never liked each other like that” you laughed trying to play it off.

“Then I guess it won’t be weird for you to go meet up with her right now”

After a silent back and forth you caved in standing up. “Fine! I’ll go see her but we’re just friends” You warned leaving the cabin.

Jogging into the arena you had to take a moment to appreciate what you saw in-front of you. 5’10 and lean just swinging her spear around with a concentrated look plastered on her face. Even even she was taking her anger out clarisse was still beautiful.

She stuck her spear into the sand and started tying her curly hair back. Placing her hands on her hips she let out a heavy sigh just letting the energy fall away from her body.

Slowly walking towards her you cleared your throat nervous… justtt friends that’s what you were. “Hey..” you managed.

Instantly she looked over stunner and a little embarrassed. Clarisse didn’t move, didnt even speak. She opened her mouth for only a second before just closing it again not sure what to say.

Deciding to take the first step you gently patted your sides. Pulling the dagger from your side you held it out. “I figured I don’t need it anymore so I should return it-“

“Keep it” she quickly spoke. “Sorry.. I’m just, it’s been a long time” a tired breath left her lips causing you to blush slightly.

“Right..“ placing the blade away you looked back up deciding that maybe just standing in silence was the best think to do.

What felt like an eternity soon came to an end when clarisse decided to finally speak up. “Can we.. can we hangout tommorow” she slowly asked.

Nodding your head adamantly you smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

———

“Shut up it did not feel like a week” clarisse laughed walking around the forest with you. For majority if the day you both had just spent time together, almost like a date.

Now with the moon rising you both decided to finish the hangout off with a walk in the woods. “It did” you giggled. “I swear to the gods I was only there for a week”

She just rolled her eyes. “Must of been nice” she mumbled shaking her head. Confused you chuckled back. “What do you mean?”

“Well you didn’t have to spend three years thinking the first girl you ever actually fell in love with was dead and having to find some way to continue yourself that leaving her to bleed out after she protected you from dying wasn’t yourself and was the right thing to do”

You stopped walking and just looked up at clarisse. “You love me”

She looked back at you and just shrugged her shoulders. She was completely different from the dumb childhood crush you had. Slowly you grabbed clarisses arm and took her hand into yours. Looking down you smiled as she was wearing one of your favorite rings.

“I don’t remember a lot. I don’t know how I ended up in the hotel.. but what I do remember is that throughout my long week stay I always remembered a girl who could effortlessly make me laugh and always made my stomach do flips” a small laugh left your mouth. “Out of everything and everyone I always remembered being in love with you clarisse”

Shyly with her free hand she cupped the side of your face. Brining you close to her she muttered. “Can I Kiss you..”

Laughing some you nodded. “Yeah you can kiss me”

Placing her lips onto yours you couldn’t help b it smile happily. It made you feel warm how some way some how clarisse waited for you. Guess it was a good think to since you had no choice but to wait for her too.

Clarisse - FUCK ALL YOU MOTHER FUCKERS I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND SUCK IT

YN - babe 😭

—

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

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akairawrites · 8 months

Text

Cats Out The Bag | Damian Wayne Imagine

Curiosity Killed The Cat part 2

Taglist

@ella-fella-bo-bella @ayoitsurfavdesigurl @luvvvjada @harleycao @aiq39 @lumineliax @420sprite @stvrfir3 @instabull @rukia-uchiha-98 @1lellykins @lilupie @deliciousfatblackcat @skyesayshi @imarimone12 @mysticalhills @4arancia @bat-h-tic @luvelyxp @urmomsbananabread @elebeleb @strawberrycreamb @princessofhope0 @itisjustagirl @dollceesstuff @just-reading-dany @Ginger24880 @godknows-shetried @that-levi-kenma-kinnie @kierancaz @Crystals-faith @cascadingbliss

You could feel the cool night breeze against your cheeks as you gracefully leaped through the air. It was a tranquil night in Gotham, the perfect backdrop for criminal activities.

Upon descending from the side of the building, you headed toward the front entrance. Naturally, the door was locked. You reached for a bobby pin from your hair and crouched down to examine the lock. Inserting the pin, you heard a satisfying click as the door unlocked. A self-satisfied smile crossed your face as you returned the bobby pin to its place. Inside, you inhaled deeply and exhaled, a smirk forming as you dropped your duffel bag. Rifling through it, you retrieved a homemade C-4 like device. With practiced ease, you entered a password on the screen and affixed it to the wall near the safety deposit boxes. After a few seconds, the device beeped, and the boxes popped open with a hiss. Your first-time trial was a success, and you couldn't help but smile.

Swiftly, you went through almost every box, finding mostly deeds and divorce papers. Fortunately, you stumbled upon some jewelry, and someone even carelessly stashed a wad of cash inside, which you promptly pocketed.

Once your bag was stuffed, you exited the building unnoticed. Scaling the side of the building, you reached the rooftop to survey your surroundings, ensuring no heroic intervention was imminent. As you counted the money you had collected, a pair of feet landed behind you. You sighed in annoyance and slowly turned around, still clutching the cash.

To your surprise, it was Robin.

A few years back, after robbing a jewelry store, Selina had persuaded you to take a break from a life of crime, deeming it too perilous and unpredictable. Only recently had she allowed you to return to your illicit activities. You took a moment to observe him, noticing his increased muscularity and shorter hair. With his mask on, he would be unrecognizable anyway. "You got taller," were your initial words.

Little did you know that Damian was scrutinizing you as well. The last time he'd seen you, he was just 14 years old. Normally, he wouldn't care much about his adversaries, let alone think about them as much as he did about you. Even though you had bested him the first and only time you'd crossed paths, he couldn't help but think about you.

"And you got curvier," Damian blurted out, unable to prevent the words from escaping his mouth. He mentally scolded himself for succumbing to his intrusive thoughts.

You gave him a quizzical look, unsure if he was attempting to flirt with you. He didn't strike you as the flirting type. Shaking your head, you slapped the cash against your palm and rocked on your heels. Slipping the money into your bag, you slung it over your shoulder. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, but I gotta go." You turned to walk in the opposite direction, but a force struck you from behind, sending you tumbling to the ground, landing on your stomach with your chin scraping against the pavement. You groaned and rolled over, just as Damian unsheathed his sword in a graceful forward roll.

"Didn't your mother teach you not to hit a girl?" you taunted.

"No, she threw me into the League of Assassins, where I was trained to be a cold-blooded killer," Damian replied.

Damn.

Damian rushed toward you, his sword slicing through the air. Swiftly, you rolled out of the way, but he managed to slice open your bag instead. You stood up as he charged at you again, the absence of your bag making the fight a fairer match. You assumed it would be easier to defeat him this time, just as you had when you first faced off.

As you prepared to throw a punch, Damian seized your wrist and struck your elbow, simultaneously sweeping your leg from under you. You crashed to the ground, landing hard on your back and knocking the wind out of you. He threw away his sword and grabbed you by the collar of your suit, cocking his fist back and delivering a punch to your face. The ringing in your ears intensified as the blows continued.

Foolishly underestimating Damian, you realized he was much stronger than he had been four years ago. He was giving his all, determined not to stop until you were defeated. Gathering enough energy, you managed to kick him off you. As you wiped your nose, feeling the blood trickling from your lips, you stood up, reminding yourself that you were not your mother.

You landed a few punches, but Damian's strength remained a significant advantage. He kicked you in the stomach, causing you to tumble toward the edge of the building. He slowly approached you, grabbing you by the hair to lift your head off the ground. He surveyed your bloodied and battered face, sighing as if regretting what he was about to do. With nothing left in you to fight back, you braced yourself as he delivered a final blow that sent you over the side of the building, hurtling towards the ground.

⋆

You clutched your book tightly to your chest as you navigated the bustling hallway. Skillfully, you maneuvered past the people blocking your path, making your way to your locker. After shoving your books inside, you retrieved the ones needed for your next class. However, you couldn't shake the feeling that someone's intense gaze was fixed on the side of your head. You glanced to your left and found yourself locking eyes with a pair of piercing green ones. Damian stood only a few feet away, next to his own locker. You let out a resigned sigh, anticipating that he might deliver another one of his lectures.

A few weeks ago, Damian had been assigned as your tutor for the rest of the year, given your struggle to keep up with your classes due to frequent absences. Neither of you had welcomed this arrangement, but your slipping grades left you with no choice but to accept help, even if it meant being tutored by the most arrogant person you'd ever encountered.

As Damian approached, you couldn't help but speak up, "What do you want, Damian?"

"I want you to meet me at my dorm once classes are over," he stated, his tone more commanding than inquisitive. You arched an eyebrow and closed your locker. "For what? We don't have anything scheduled for today."

He merely sighed. "I just need to have a word with you," he said and walked past you without further explanation. Your eyes tracked his retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall. You couldn't help but mutter, "Who does he think he is?"

After the school day ended, you complied with his request and made your way to Damian's dorm. You knocked and waited for a few moments, unsure of the reason behind this unusual request. Damian seldom engaged with you outside of tutoring, making it clear that he wanted nothing to do with you ever since you'd punched him in the face.

Once Damian finally came to the door, he said nothing when he saw it was you. He just stepped out of the way, allowing you to enter. You walked into the small dorm room, which was plain but tidy. The walls lacked decorations, reminiscent of how your dorm looked when you first moved in. Damian's tie and blazer lay discarded on his neatly made bed, leaving him in his half-buttoned dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” you asked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, being careful not to disrupt the bedding.

Last week, when Damian came to your dorm to study, his eyes caught sight of something on your nightstand—an emerald green necklace that almost perfectly matched the color of his eyes. It had looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. A few days ago, it finally clicked in his head where he had seen it before. Too much evidence pointed to you being someone he desperately did not want you to be. He would never admit it, but you were growing on him, and he secretly enjoyed your company. To confirm his suspicions, he needed one more piece of evidence.

"Let me see your hand," Damian abruptly requested.

"What?"

"Your hand, let me see it." Without waiting for your response, he took hold of your hand and examined your palm. He noticed a scar running diagonally across it, he remembered when you came to school with it bandaged up. You had told people it resulted from a kitchen accident, but he knew the truth. Damian was piecing everything together like a puzzle. It would explain why he often caught you sneaking into the dorms late at night, as well as why you were frequently late to class and tutoring.

It was you.

He just couldn't figure out how you were alive. He had believed he killed you. His heart ached at the thought.

You watched as Damian traced the scar on your hand with his thumb, his touch sending a tingly sensation through your skin.

"Damian...?" Your voice came out softer than intended. When he heard his name, he looked up at you, his eyes conveying a mixture of fear and regret, emotions you never thought you'd see from him.

"I know," he simply stated.

Confused, you shook your head. "You know what?"

And then it clicked. He KNEW. Why else would he be so interested in your scar? You thought you had done a good job of keeping it hidden. In fact, you had done a good job. The only way he would know was if he had been there.

You withdrew your hand from his. "You're Robin?" You didn't receive an immediate response, which confirmed your suspicion. You sighed, unsure if you should be upset or not. After all, it's not as if the two of you were best friends who had promised never to lie to each other. You did feel somewhat guilty for beating him up, but he had almost killed you in return.

"I'm sorry," he finally admitted, looking away, as if he couldn't bear to make eye contact while apologizing. It was a momentary lapse of his ego.

"Damian Wayne apologizing?" you said, a smug grin on your face.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't get used to it."

You laughed and playfully nudged him. You noticed a small smirk tugging at his lips, and it made your own smile grow wider.

Surprisingly, you both sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before Damian decided to break it.

"How did you survive that fall anyway?" he asked.

You chuckled. "No one told you? I'm like a cat, Damian. I have nine lives."

If you couldn’t tell I tried to avoid having to come up with a alias for Y/N…anyway,

Add yourself to my taglist here

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jungkookschin · 2 months

Text

demigod trials: fates intertwined

synopsis: you met jungkook at camp half-blood when you were 10 years old. since then, your fates have been infinitely intertwined.

word count: 20k

pairing: son of ares!jungkook x daughter of hephaestus!reader

genre: camp half blood au, percy jackson au, demigod au, childhood friends to lovers, exes to lovers , enemies to lovers, jungkook is sooo in love, jungkook is emotionally constipated, THEY FALL INTO TARTARUS TOGETHERR, jk and y/n are supposed to be reminiscent of percabeth, y/n can wield fire 😳 , ANGSTYY, taehyung as a son of poseidon, namjoon son of athena, mingyu son of jupiter, mina daughter of venus,

warnings: death, angst, blood, kinda gruesome, SMUT (not explicit at all- it's told more in a poetic way), v card loss, many percy jackson references, character death (she comes back to life)

author's note

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 3.5 | chapter four

“Missed me, inferno princess?”

Jungkook stands in the entranceway of your hotel room, soft strands of fringe falling into his piercing brown eyes like the delicate curtains of a war chariot. He stares at you smugly, the most classic Jungkook smile etched across his lips.

Jungkook is a demigod, meaning that one of his parents is a Greek god while the other is a mortal. In Jungkook’s case, his celestial father is Ares, the god of war- also associated with brutality and chaos.

Those vaguely familiar with Jungkook would argue that he is the poster child for everything his father represents:

A ruthless warrior on the battlefield, his every step echoes the thunderous march of Ares, causing monsters and enemies alike to flee like waves of the Red Sea. Thick and muscular biceps you can’t even wrap both hands around, a sleeve of tattoos running around the circumference of his arm, and natural affinity to any weapon- effortless wielding a spatha, spear, javelin, or knife with precision and ease.

Jungkook also rides a Harley-Davidson motorcycle and has had the occasional fling with a daughter of Aphrodite- all echoing behaviors of his father.

You beg to differ.

To you, Jungkook is love. Jungkook is your spring solace after a grueling winter, Jungkook churns the gears in your brain and heart that stop functioning. Jungkook is your serenity after war- countless wars by which you both narrowly escaped the clutches of death.

His presence fills your heart with the warmest, most nostalgic sensation. Endorphins fill the hotel hallway, and suddenly you’re 14, savoring the fragrance of strawberry fields with Jungkook’s large hands on your waist as you soar on a pegasus over the harbor of Long Island.

You met Jungkook at Camp Half-Blood when you were ten years old. After your fifth grade volleyball coach turned into a giant cyclops and tried to eat you, you found yourself at Camp Half-Blood, a summer camp for children of Greek gods and goddesses.

Nestled within Camp Half-Blood's grounds are the children of around 20 Greek gods, including the 12 Olympians and various minor deities. The enchanting aroma of strawberry fields wafts through the entire camp. As you explore, you'll find an amphitheater, Pegasus stables, a sword-fighting arena, and even magical cups and plates that intuitively read your mind, materializing the food of your desires. Don't forget the ever-so thrilling challenge of scaling the lava wall, which almost killed you, like, ten times.

It took you a while to adjust to the bustling life in Camp Half-Blood.

Despite being a volleyball player, your athleticism waned in comparison to the other demigods. You sucked at archery, struggled with sparring, and could barely stand under the weight of armor.

However, you quickly discovered that you excelled in the forge.

Before Hephaestus even claimed you as his, you spent hours cooped up in the forge, constructing jewelry, engineering random gadgets and gizmos, and printing 3-D sculptures of your favorite anime characters.

One day, when you were scaling up the climbing/lava wall, your left foot slipped from one of the ledges and a wave of lava washed over you. Gasps ripple through the crowd of demigods, and you swore you heard the Hades kids sigh because they had the unfortunate obligation of preparing burials for campers.

Once the wave washed over, absolutely nothing happened. You were still hanging onto the climbing wall with both hands, and your feet found solace back on the stone ledges.

You heard more gasps, and everybody began pointing at something above your head. When you looked up you saw a red fiery hammer, the symbol of Hephaestus, the god of metalworking, volcanoes, and fire.

Jungkook was only ten years old, but his voice resonated louder than anybody else’s.

“By the blade of Ares,” Jungkook muttered, an awestruck look morphing into an amused grin gracing his lips, “our little warrior is Hephaestus’s kid!”

Before inferno princess, he coined the nickname little warrior when you failed to even lift a Celestial Bronze sword. At ten years old, Jungkook always teased you and found the best ways to get under your skin.

You have a stupid theory that you’re genetically inclined to dislike Jungkook. After all, his father was one half of a millenia long affair with Hephaestus’s wife and your stepmom (?) Aphrodite.

Jungkook, on the other hand, might actually be genetically predisposed to picking on you for how easily his dad bitched yours.

Anyways, what made you even more special was that you wielded the ability to control fire.

The last child of Hephaestus who had the ability to do so died in the 1700s, meaning that you were a prodigy, an anomaly. You immediately met with the camp director Chiron to discuss your special abilities, placing you in elite training classes with none other than the Ares cabin and your favorite person Jungkook.

The head counselor in the Hephaestus cabin, Atticus Gonzales (he is dead now), personally trained you in the forge, instructing you to engineer and construct contraptions that were lightyears above the proficiency of a ten-year-old.

One morning, as you get out of bed, you spot a toolbelt resting on your bedside.

From H

A gift from your father.

Ten year old you marveled at the toolbelt before wrapping it around your waist. You quickly discovered its celestial magic, capable of summoning any tool you desired or envisioned. However, it had its constraints. It couldn't magically produce enchanted weapons; its abilities were limited to mortal tools like screwdrivers and mallets.

Your first task was to forge a Celestial Bronze knife for none other than the boy who miffed you like no other, Jungkook.

Celestial bronze is a special metal forged on Mount Olympus, the home of the gods. According to Greek mythology, it is the one of the only metals that is capable of vanquishing monsters, meaning that demigods would have to wield Celestial Bronze weapons.

As a ten year old, forging a Celestial Bronze knife was not an easy feat, and it was even more painful with a ten year old Jungkook over your shoulder the entire time. You wanted to strangle him the entire time.

You first had to invoke the blessing of Hephaestus, offering a sacrifice to your father to guide you through the forging process. Getting Jungkook to just sit still was a quest on its own; he wouldn’t stop bouncing around the forge and you were horrified that he would knock something over or set the place on fire.

Next, you had to heat and melt the celestial bronze, a task you were instructed to complete with your own fire.

Though it was established that you wielded flame manipulation, it was difficult to spark your own flame without the assistance of gas or a lighter. You must have sat in the forge for an entire day, grunting and groaning as you willed yourself to spark a flame from your fingers.

Jungkook was absolutely no help at all. He was the least encouraging person and kept asking to place the Celestial Bronze in a preheated fire.

Eventually, you willed yourself to ignite a spark, and the fire spread over the entire sheet of metal. You and Jungkook were so thrilled that you actually hugged before staring at each other uncomfortably and backing away.

Next, you shaped and formed the blade in accordance with Jungkook's wishes, which wasn’t so easy because he kept changing his mind about the shape of the blade. Afterwards, you quenched the blade in water before enchanting the knife with a protective spell.

15 years later, three wars, countless battles, a plethora of dead monsters, and yours and Jungkook’s lives are still forever intertwined.

You and Jungkook are 25, and you have been to hell and back together, literally.

The answer is yes. You did miss Jungkook and your face dissolves with utter relief as you run into his arms and melt into the safety of his embrace.

You hadn’t seen Jungkook in an entire year. Last year, your father Hephaestus asked if you wanted to spend a year with him in the forge of Mount Olympus, working on a top secret engineering project.

You had just returned, requesting that your father open a direct portal to Camp Jupiter, the camp for Roman demigods.

Camp Jupiter stands as a training ground for Roman demigods on the West Coast, offering a structured and disciplined environment akin to the Roman legions. Adjacent to this formidable camp, New Rome emerges as a concealed city, a testament to ancient Roman architecture combined with modern amenities.

Camp Jupiter differs from Camp Half-Blood because New Rome is a fully operational city where former members of the Roman legion, upon completing their service, could choose to reside. Graduated members of the Roman legion had the options of going to university, building a family, and seeking employment within the city, which also provided a barrier against Roman monsters.

Currently, you and Jungkook are in Camp Jupiter for a special gathering with fellow demigods in your generation and the Praetors of the Roman Legion. The Praetors Mina and Mingyu are essentially the commanders of the Roman army, overseeing operations and making crucial decisions for the camp's well-being.

Yours and Jungkook’s generation of demigods is deemed particularly special because yours is the first generation of demigods to live beyond your teens. Typically, demigods were monster bait and were either eaten or murdered before they reached their 20’s.

Yours and Jungkook’s generation changed the tide, with almost 100 demigods reaching their mid 20’s, dubbing this the beginning of the Golden Era of the Demigods.

For you and your friends to be called to a meeting with the Praetors- it concerned you slightly. But after all you had been through, nothing seemed to scare you. Instead, all you’re thinking about is how much you missed Jeon Jungkook.

You haven’t seen Jungkook in a year, and you take a moment to relish the man who’s been to Tartarus and back with you.

Jungkook’s in ripped jeans, combat boots, and a seemingly brand new orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. He looks the same, except a little leaner, and maybe a little taller.

“Missed you a lot, Jungkook the Relentless,” you muse in return.

Jungkook’s features crumble in disgust, before he, in his dramatic nature, theatrically flicks his head back, soft and wispy strands falling back onto his head to reveal his handsome forehead.

“Inferno princess is cute,” he claims, a grin peeking from the frown he just could never maintain around you, “Whatever you said,” he pauses, “It lacks creativity, it’s not clever, it’s not smart. I give it an F.”

You scoff amusedly, nudging his chest with your left shoulder before marching past him.

“Whatever, stupid.”

“Wait up, inferno princess,” he calls from behind, speedily catching up in a single stride, “Why didn’t you answer any of my Iris messages? Didn’t miss me at all over the past year?”

You shrug, pressing the down button on the elevator as you and Jungkook step in. “My dad probably blocked you from calling. You know how he feels about you.”

Muzak fills the elevator, and Jungkook scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Just say you didn’t want to see me, inferno princess. Hephaestus loves me, personally thanked me for keeping you safe all these years.”

The noise that leaves your mouth falls in between a scoff and a gag. “You? Kept me safe? You would’ve been dead in seventh grade if it weren’t for me,” you tease.

“Gotta give it to you there, inferno princess. This knife has killed more monsters than you’ve ever seen in your life,” he teases, unsheathing the Celestial Bronze knife you forged for him when you were ten years old. He always keeps it on him, and it makes you happy because it means he still cares

You lean against the elevator railing and raise a brow at him. “Is that so?”

He smiles smugly at you, the same stupid Jungkook smile that never changed after all these years. “It definitely is so.”

He smiles at you, toying with his lip as his eyes shamelessly glaze over you. His features fall into a pout. He opens his arms again, and you waddle over for another hug. “Gods inferno princess, I missed you,” he whispers,” You ignored me for a year-”

The elevator door swings open, and you’re greeted by a greatly amused Namjoon and Taehyung.

Taehyung whistles. “Hope we’re not interrupting.”

You gently shove Jungkook away with your forearm and greet Taehyung and Namjoon with a huge hug, each arm encircling one of their necks.

Just as it’s been a year since you’ve seen Jungkook, it’s also been a year since you’ve seen Taehyung and Namjoon. You met Taehyung, son of Poseidon, when you were 12 years old and he stumbled into Camp Half-Blood after single handedly bringing down the Minotaur.

Namjoon, son of Athena, came to Camp Half-Blood a couple years after Jungkook. After devising the strategy to defeat Kronos in the Battle of Manhattan, he was given the honor of redesigning Mount Olympus in accordance to his architectural preferences.

Being in Olympus for a year, you really were able to relish in Namjoon’s creations. The Greek-style temples maintained their traditional charm with innovative twists. You had the opportunity to walk through the most beautiful of gardens, special flowers bred by Namjoon specifically for Mount Olympus.

You’ve known them for so long that they’re practically your brothers. Both are wearing Camp Half-Blood shirts- Namjoon’s is a little tight and tattered so you reckon it’s the same shirt he adorned in high school.

Everyone’s back together. A warm wave of nostalgia washes over you, and you feel at home.

“So little Ms. Olympus is finally back to the mortal world?” Taehyung teases, meandering around playfully as he lazily swings an arm around your shoulder.

“Oh? What about Mr. Olympus over here? I ran into him all the time up there,” you gesticulate towards Namjoon who scoffs playfully and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You worked with Namjoon occasionally on Mount Olympus to construct his architectural plans for the godly city, so it hadn’t been that long since you’ve run into him.

“Didn’t get the chance to live there like you did. Gods, was I envious of you when I heard you were moving! The gods all know I would be the better option.”

You shoot Namjoon a theatrically annoyed glance, rolling your eyes the same way Jungkook does.

“I’m kidding,” Namjoon asserts, “I’m infinitely proud of you and all your accomplishments.”

You smile, pressing the friendliest of kisses on Namjoon’s cheeks. “Thanks Joon, love you the most.”

“Yea, well,” Taehyung begins, “You’re bearing witness to the only demigod to ever take up residence in Tartarus and Mount Olympus, so you better put some respect on her name.”

You grin, rolling your eyes as you press another kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for the warm welcome, Tae.”

You momentarily pause, shifting your gaze from Namjoon and Taehyung to Jungkook. “What? You guys aren’t gonna say hi to him?”

Taehyung makes a psh sound with his lips, “I see this guy everyday.” He skips over to Jungkook, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “You want a kiss too?” Taehyung teases, about to press a kiss to his cheeks to which Jungkook pushes Taehyung away with his infinite strength.“Gross, dude.”

Taehyung smiles, his combat boots skipping against the gravel of New Rome. “Gods, I feel like we’re 17 again- discovering all this Camp Jupiter shit, meeting the Romans- doesn’t it all bring you nostalgia?” Taehyung continues, carelessly skipping through the gravel with you.

“Remember when we were 14?” you add, “And you, me, and Joon had to go through that Labyrinth?” you recall, chills running down your spine at the very memory.

“Gods, that was the worst,” Namjoon adds, “And you broke your ankle so I had to carry you through the labyrinth? Yea, I remember that.”

“Hey, at least, you got the laptop of Daedalus,” you add, “I mean, that thing even had an international credit card programmed onto it, and gods remember the fake ID’s? We got so drunk on your 18th birthday- the party ponies came and everything. That was ridiculous.”

Jungkook cheekily smiles at the memory, and Taehyung detects it immediately. “What, Jeon? Smiling because you remember how shitfaced you were? You could’ve gotten a DUI on a pegasus if it weren’t for me.”

Jungkook can’t help but smile, “Gods Taehyung, you’re dumb.”

Taehyung shrugs, “But I’m your favorite.”

Reunited with your friends, you’re home.

Over the years, you’ve observed the multifaceted aspects of Jungkook’s character.

There were special occasions by which he became rigidly serious- his pupils morphing into flames, a feature he clearly adopted from his father.

You witnessed this firsthand when you were 13 when you and Jungkook were on a quest now dubbed the Quest of the Eternal Night.

Los Angeles, the city of Angels home to all the glittering allure of Hollywood became shrouded in darkness. The mortals all assumed the famine was attributed to an extended solar eclipse when in reality it was the Greek monster Lamia who intended to conceal the entire world with darkness, starting with Los Angeles.

Once a beloved queen of Zeus, Lamia’s life went to shit when Hera, out of jealousy, mercilessly murdered Lamia’s children. Overwhelmed with grief, Lamia transformed into a child-devouring monster with a snake-like lower body. From the waist up, Lamia was the most beautiful woman you’ve ever encountered. Lamia resembled the little mermaid, her long orange hair reminiscent of warmth from the sun, perfectly framing her face and enhancing her mesmerizing glow.

At the time, nobody in Camp Half-Blood was aware of the true nature of the threat, just that it was most likely a monster.

Given the prevailing uncertainty, the Oracle presented herself at the daily campfire, revealing the prophecy to the entirety of Camp Half-Blood:

In shadows' grasp, the forge's child shall dance,

Beside the warrior, fire's fierce advance.

Through the endless night, a tandem in step they weave as one,

A celestial key, by blood begun.

Within shadows, echoes of a tragic tale,

Redemption blooms as darkness lifts its veil

In an instant, everyone's gaze shifted to you.

“In shadows' grasp, the forge's child shall dance,

Beside the warrior, fire's fierce advance.”

Not a single camper could contest that this was about you. Forge’s daughter, fire’s fierce advance- it dawned on you that the weight was on your shoulders, and you may be heading towards your impending doom.

A fight broke out between Jungkook, Namjoon, and Jinyoung son of Hermes over who would accompany you on the quest. Beside the warrior, fire’s fierce advance, indicating that the quest called for a warrior to your side.

Through the endless night, a tandem in step they weave as one,

What made you feel especially at unease was that the prophecy explicitly called for two demigods as opposed to three. In Greek mythology, the number three was associated with balance and completeness. Three celestial spheres governed the world- Zeus ruled the sky, Poseidon ruled the sea, and Hades presided over the underworld. There were three fates that determined the destinies of mortals and deities. The guard dog of the underworld Cerberus, had three heads.

Three was a lucky number in Greek mythology, so why did this quest call for two?

“You fucking kidding me?” Jungkook mocked, crossing his arms as he stared at Jinyoung in disdain. He pointed at Jinyoung, singling him out in front of the entire camp. “This guy is a candidate for the quest? He’s a son of Hermes. All he does is send letters and shit.”

Thirteen year old Jungkook was a menace to society.

Chiron, the camp activities director who was also a centaur (horse from the waist down and human from the waist up), cleared his throat and cast Jungkook a look that screamed boy, sit down.

Jungkook clenched his jaw, acquiescing nonetheless, sitting on a log while glaring bitterly into the campfire.

The night sky stretched above, adorned with a myriad of constellations depicting Greek heroes such as Hercules, Perseus, and Achilles. It was like the stars were mocking him, casting doubt that he would be selected for this quest.

But he had to be chosen. He was positive he was the only demigod equipped with the skills to keep you safe on your quest. Jinyoung and Namjoon didn’t hold a candle to him.

The prophecy called for a warrior, and he was a warrior. He was the most talented offspring of his father, the literal god of warriors. It had to be him.

Namjoon pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “With all due respect,” he begins, “We’re not going to send Jungkook’s dumbass on a quest alone with Y/N. He’d get both of them killed with his recklessness.”

Jungkook didn’t take that well. “I won’t,” he sneers, gesticulating with his hands dramatically, “None of you guys know Y/N like I do. I’m a warrior, and I’m going to protect her.” he states matter-a-factly.

Namjoon was probably one of the only demigods unphased by Jungkook’s abrasion.

“Jeon, you might be a warrior, but there’s absolutely nothing in that head of yours. Sure, the prophecy calls for a warrior, but not a complete imbecile like you,” Namjoon spits, rising to his feet. “This quest needs someone with the capacity for strategic warfare, which my mother is the goddess of,” he declares, “The city is covered in darkness, so we’ll have to move around strategically. Your dumbass would walk straight to the enemy.”

Jungkook stands at that, immediately squaring Namjoon up, hardened pupils daring Namjoon to back up his words with action.

“He’s right, Jungkook,” Jinyoung adds, “You want to go on the quest because you want to protect Y/N. I want to go on this quest because I know our assets are compatible and that we work well together.”

“Y/N and I have the best chemistry out of everyone in the camp.” A bold claim by Jungkook, eliciting a few gasps from the gallery, and you tilt your head because you don’t believe that to necessarily be true.

Jinyoung stands, “You know what Jeon? You think you’re the shit because your dad’s the god of war. Even as a Hermes kid, I guarantee I can beat you in sword to sword combat,” Jinyoung unsheathes his Celestial Bronze sword, and Jungkook’s pupils glitter against its shine.

“Winner goes on the quest,” Jungkook obliges, unsheathing his own Celestial Bronze sword, a wave of conviction clouding his aura.

Chiron stomps his hooves on the terrain, demanding the attention of the camp.

“That’s enough,” he declares sternly, “There will be no fighting. It will be Y/N’s choice. She gets to choose.”

All eyes drift towards you, putting you on the spot.

You open and close your mouth repeatedly like a dying fish, not having a single clue how to respond. You wish Chiron would decide for you. You see yourself being fine with all three candidates, but you don’t even have the courage to consider making a decision.

Jungkook cuts you off.

“I swear on the River Styx that I will complete this quest successfully, protect Y/N, and return safely.”

Jungkook’s sudden declaration elicits a collective gasp from the campers.

Swearing on the River Styx meant making a promise so serious it couldn't be broken. The River Styx was a sacred river in the Underworld, considered to be a boundary between the world of the living and the realm of the dead. Oaths sworn by the river were binding and unbreakable.

Swearing on the River Styx was incredibly wreckless of Jungkook, and he suffered severe reprimanding from Chiron for doing something so callous.

And that was basically it. Jungkook already swore on the River Styx so he had to go through with the quest. That made your choice a lot easier, since you were pretty much indifferent to choosing your partner.

Jungkook didn’t lie. He most certainly kept his binding oath.

After navigating through the mazes of Los Angeles, scaling the Hollywood sign, and coursing through the animatronics of Disneyland, you and Jungkook encountered your final foe, Lamia.

Lamia had the ability to psychologically torture her victims, eventually revealing that Jungkook was the perfect candidate for the quest because the psychological torture had no effect on him.

You liked to joke that it was because he didn’t have a brain.

Lamia cast a curse upon you, plunging you into a trance of your most haunting memories. You were transported into the scene of your mother's murder the previous year, forced to relive the moment a million times over.

The flame you sparked from your fingers as a makeshift torch immediately went out, and you were rendered a screaming crying mess as you rolled on the floor with your fingernails scraping against the pavement.

The only light you perceived was the light reflected off Jungkook’s Celestial Bronze knife, the same one you forged years before when you were ten years old.

Seeing you like that, Jungkook became so angry, his pupils exploded into flames and he immediately decapitated Lamia, returning light to sunny Los Angeles and sending Lamia into the depths of Tartarus.

When you were 19, the Earth mother Gaia, a primordial deity and the very essence of the Earth awakened from her slumber. Her goal was to overthrow the gods, wipe out humanity, and destroy Camp Jupiter and Camp Half-Blood so that she and her offspring, the giants and monsters, would reign over the world.

Obviously, that wasn’t good so you and six other demigods ventured on a quest to the homelands Rome and Greece to incapacitate Gaia. You were responsible for engineering a flying magical warship to transport said group of seven demigods to Rome and Greece- and it was arguably the largest project you’ve ever taken on.

You still remember when the Oracle presented herself and read the prophecy aloud to the entire camp.

"In realms of ancient twilight, seven shall heed the call,

To storm or fire, the Earth shall fall.

Forge’s armor, a shield against fate,

Through the ancient homelands, they navigate.

A choice profound, in shadows deep,

To banish Gaia's wrath in fiery sweep.

In storm's embrace or fire's light,

Seven demigods shall rewrite the ancient night."

After the Oracle announced the prophecy, you felt personally victimized and were ready to throw the towel in to drown yourself in the Atlantic Ocean.

To storm or fire the Earth shall fall?

Nothing was definitive, but that basically meant a child of Zeus or Hephaestus would be designated to vanquish Gaia, and since you’re the only child of Hephaestus who can wield fire, you were left in a sheer state of terror.

Forge’s armor?

There was no doubt in your mind that it had something to do with you- and your intuition was accurate.

You would soon be embarking solo into the depths of the Hephaestion (temple of Hephaestus) to recover the armor your father forged for the Olympians in the original war against the Titans. You needed this armor to defeat Gaia’s offspring, the giants, because the armor bestowed its wearer with the divine capabilities of their demigod parent.

That was great and all, but you didn’t understand why you had to travel solo to retrieve it. You didn’t know what perils lay ahead, and to your luck, there was another prophecy- just for you. The fates consistently chose you for perilous quests- you were obviously their favorite.

"In forge's embrace, beneath Hephaestion's grace,

A child of fire seeks the lost, a sacred trace.

Through tunnels deep, where riddles guard the way,

Guardians forged in flame demand a price to pay.

The armor forged for gods, in shadows it lay.

Alone she tread, the quest's weight to bear,

A solitary journey through trials and despair."

A solitary journey through trials and despair- how exciting!

You wanted nothing more than to be with Namjoon, Taehyung, Jungkook, and all your friends. If you had it your way, you would bring the other six demigods with you, but the prophecy made it clear: Alone she tread, the quest’s weight to bear.

Your final moments may very well be under the ruins of the Hephaestion, and no matter how you screamed and cried, there would be nobody to save you, just miles and miles of dirt and terrain.

By this time, it had been a year since Jungkook started riding his Harley Davidson motorcycle.

The motorcycle was a gift from his father, and was presented to Jungkook in the form of a Rolex watch. With a press of a button, the watch unfurled and morphed into a sleek Harley Davidson motorcycle.

Jungkook was a talented rider, maneuvering swiftly through the hills and slopes of Athens, gripping the handles so tightly that his knuckles became white and the wounds on his hands reopened.

You clung tightly to his waist, finding solace as you rested your cheek against the back of his leather jacket, reveling in the warmth of his body while you had the chance.

You were scared out of your mind.

Jungkook evidently feels the same way, the look of apprehension on his face something you will never forget. He grimaces, utter trepidation enveloping his features as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes reflect a sense of unease. His hands, once steady, now betray a subtle tremor, and the air seems to thicken with the weight of his anxiety.

Braking abruptly at the entrance of the Hephaestion, the motorcycle veers sharply, casting dirt onto the ancient ruins. It's his way of telling Hephaestus to go fuk himself for having his nineteen-year-old daughter tread through the temple’s ruins to her potential doom. With a spiteful glare at the ruins, he mounts his vehicle and helps you off the motorcycle, watching as it folds back into a Rolex watch on his wrist.

His heart melts when he sees how glossy your eyes are. Jungkook hates the gods- nothing but deadbeat parents who fucked and reproduced like animals. He hates this stupid quest.

For a very brief moment, Jungkook dares to imagine life as a normal person. A luxury he would never experience in his life: normalcy, and he knows it’s pointless to covet for what he doesn’t have but he can’t help but desperately delude himself into thinking that he’s dropping you off at class, your first day of work, to hang out with your friends, and not on a dangerous quest.

In an alternative universe, University Y/N and Jungkook would be a campus couple. Gods, if the circumstances were different he would have confessed years ago. He just hasn’t because the very act of loving is selfish when you’re a demigod.

Jungkook can’t confess to you and then die the very next day. And assuming that you do feel the same way and choose to become his girlfriend- he just doesn’t know if he’ll randomly drop off the face of the Earth and he can’t bear to think of you just waiting for him, sobbing on your knees by the barriers of Camp Half-Blood.

Perhaps he’s projecting his deep-rooted fears onto you. If Jungkook ever gets a taste of you then loses you- he knows he would never be the same.

Gods, it’s cynical, but it’s true.

He pulls himself out of his little trance.

“Y/N.”

Jungkook looks at you, sees that you’re trembling- scared shitless.

“Take this.” He slides off wristwatch and puts it onto yours.

The gesture has you tearing up, and once a single tear falls from your lashes, Jungkook’s brows furrow thoroughly. “Y/N. You’re one of the strongest demigods I’ve ever fucking met. You’re going to make it through. You’re going to find the armor, and once you’re done, we’re going to take care of it.”

Jungkook sounds confident in his conviction, and it almost rubs off on you.

You pout. “I-I I have to fight too.”

“No. No you don’t. I’m going to fight for you. Look. If you’re not safe, take the watch off. It’ll magically appear on my wrist, so I’m going to assume that you’re not okay and go in there if it comes back to me.”

“Except you can’t do that,” Namjoon points out from above. A glorious, beautiful white pegasus lands adjacent to you, neighing and rearing on its hind legs. Its two passengers dismount the pegasus and intervene between you and Jungkook.

“You can’t interfere with the prophecy, Jungkook. That’s going to make things worse.”

Jungkook’s body uncomfortably stiffens, and his jaw clenches. “So you’re going to let Y/N in there alone? We have to do something about it.”

Taehyung sighs, joining the conversation. “Kook, if something happens, we’ll know. We’ll sense if something happens to her. You’re going to make things worse if you follow her. You can’t.”

You nod in agreement. “I’m gonna keep the watch. It’s the same thing as bringing a weapon in there. It’s fine- and who knows- I might have to ride the motorcycle over a volcano or some stupid shit like that,” you mutter, “But Jungkook, you can’t come after me. If I die, then it’ll be by the gods’ will, but I swear on the River Styx that I’l get you that armor, even if that means my life is at risk.”

Jungkook’s expression hardens at that.

“Don’t say that,” Namjoon mutters, “You’re going to jinx it.”

Taehyung sighs, pulling you in for a hug. He rests his head against your neck, and you can feel his hot breath tickling your skin. “Good luck Y/N. You got this. You’re the most capable demigod I know. You got your tool belt?” He asks, pulling away and checking your waist.

Sure enough, your tool belt was wrapped securely around your hips, just like it always was. You nod.

“Then you’re going to succeed,” Taehyung declares, “You got that thing strapped on you? Nobody can do shit to you,” his gentle smirk comforts you.

Namjoon hugs you next, pulling away to place his glasses on the bridge of your nose. Namjoon’s glasses, a gift from his mother that allows the user to see the most successful strategy for any situation.

You scowl. “Aren’t you going to need this?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I have my brain and that’s all I need. You need this.”

You smile and face Jungkook. No words could convey the emotions on his face. He approaches you and hugs you tightly, eyes squeezing shut in anxiety and anguish once you melt in his embrace. “You got this, inferno princess. Let’s give hell to those stupid giants.”

You nod at them, running off into the ruins of the temple of Hephaestus.

You face countless trials, mechanical automatrons, and fire obstacles that only you could have ever survived. And you were right- you did have to ride Jungkook’s motorcycle over a volcano. Crazy.

With the armor in your hands, you throw off the wristwatch, knowing that Jungkook would appear in minutes. Since the quest was complete, you had every right to call on your friends, and you knew they would arrive without fail.

Anyway, had you known that just beneath the thin layer of dirt lay a pit straight to Tartarus, you wouldn't have called for him. The magical warship you engineered appears above you, and Jungkook plummets onto the dirt like a meteor.

Mingyu son of Jupiter, Mina daughter of Venus, Rose daughter of Apollo, Namjoon, and Taehyung secure the armor and load it onto the ship. Its celestial glow was nearly too much for the interior of the warship to handle.

Although the armor was safely loaded onto the ship, you weren't as fortunate.

The ground underneath you cracked, and you plummeted into a pit that led straight to Tartarus, the deepest pit of the Underworld where monsters, titans, and giants are imprisoned. Jungkook almost immediately jumps in after you, prompting the others to meet you guys at the Doors of Death.

You both fell for what seemed like hours, Jungkook’s strong arms securely wrapped around you, holding you tightly. You don’t know if it was days or hours, but you plummeted for what felt like forever.

He refuses to let you go no matter how weak his arms become, and despite how fast you plummet, Jungkook tells you that it’s going to be okay every 1000 feet of your rapid descent.

The atmosphere in Tartarus is noxious, causing boils to erupt on your skin, burns to sear, and intense headaches to course through your body- even before you slam into the terrain of Tartarus.

Given that you survive falling into an infinity high pit, you and Jungkook are likely to die from the toxicity in the air.

After what feels like a millenia, you perceive the ground from thousands of feet in the air.

“Jungkook!” you scream, “Wrap your arms around my waist!”

He obliges, maneuvering your body so your back is pressed against his chest.

Then, you get the work.

Retrieving nylon fabric and sturdy rope from your toolbelt, you intertwine the rope around the fabric, fashioning the parachute's framework with the added support of metal tubing. Handing Jungkook a specially crafted two-person harness, he allows you to slip into the loops before he follows suit.

You attach the harness to the metal framework and deploy the parachute,allowing you and Jungkook to drift to the ground.

Upon landing, you stumble on your knees, hyperventilating as the adrenaline courses through your body. Jungkook joins you, also dropping to his knees as he gently cradles your face. He appears just as disoriented, resting his forehead against yours. “You good?” he asks, chest rising up and down.

You nod before you fall into his arms, sobbing.

“Thank gods I’m with you,” he murmurs into your skin.Jungkook embraces you tightly, his hands moving soothingly up and down your back. Once you've calmed down, he assists you in getting back on your feet. “We’ll be okay,” he states, holding you by the crook of your arm. “I’m here. I got you.”

Tartarus is an ominous realm with a combination of shadowy chasms and rugged terrains. Heavy clouds loom overhead, casting a dark veil across the landscape. The ground is uneven, marked by deep crevices that seemingly stretch into infinity. Unsettling sounds permeate the air, forming an eerie symphony of the cries and moans of monsters.

You and Jungkook quickly fall ill to the noxious atmosphere in Tartarus.

Jungkook’s handsome face erects boils, and he appears more ill with each passing moment.

“Kook,” you nudge him with your body, “You alright?”

He nods, gulping. “‘m good, inferno princess. Worry about yourself.”

You pause. “You’re clearly not okay.” On cue, Jungkook stumbles to his knees, and you fall to yours as he rests his head on your shoulder. You’re not sure why you’re not as affected, but you always knew that it was relative to your immunity to fire.

Suddenly, an idea appears in your head.

The River Phlegethon.

The River Phlegethon is a river coursing through Tartarus, made entirely of molten lava.

It is said to consist of healing properties that keep monsters alive. It may work on demigods too.

You rush to the River Phlegethon, submerging your metal water bottle beneath its fiery surface before rushing back to Jungkook. “Drink this.”

“What the fuck-”

You force it to his lips and down his throat. He gazes at you with despondency, like you’ve betrayed him horribly. He clutches his throat, retching and coughing at the sensation of molten lava down his throat. You eye him back like an insane person, bringing the bottle to your lips before you gulp down the rest of the lava.

The only way to describe drinking molten lava is painful, excruciatingly horribly painful, even with your immunity to fire. But after a moment of torture, you feel good as new.

It must have had the same effect on Jungkook because the boils vanish, and the familiar youthful glow returns to his face.

“Gods inferno princess. Thought you were trying to kill me,” Jungkook jokes.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe it actually worked!” you exclaim to which Jungkook scowls. “So you shoved that down my throat when you weren’t even sure-”

“Well, well, well. Demigods in Tartarus. Now that’s a sight I didn’t think I’d ever see. And it just so happens to be the same demigods who banished me down to this pit.”

You and Jungkook whip your heads to the direction of the voice. Lamia, the same monster you encountered on the Quest of the Eternal Night.

Seeing Lamia again for the first time in years makes your knees buckle. There was no doubt in your mind that her abilities would be enhanced within the depths of Tartarus.

She still adopts the appearance of a monster with the grotesque combination of human and serpent, her coiled, snake-like body merging seamlessly with a distorted human upper torso.

Jungkook, reckless as ever, doesn’t hold back. “Lamia, you tried to kill Y/N! You committed a sin, and you’re reaping the consequences! Now leave, or I’ll kill you again!” Jungkook roars, causing Lamia to scoff as she slithers.

“A grandson of Zeus,” she sneers, “Just like your grandfather. Stupid. Reckless. Selfish. Demigods are no different from gods. Hera murdered my children, and I will murder every single one of her descendants in return.”

Jungkook grimaces, instinctively stepping in front of you to shield you with his larger frame. “Then take it out on her. Believe me when I say I’m not the biggest fan of Hera either. We are not her allies. Just go on your way, and we won’t have a problem.”

Jungkook is especially talented at bluffing. He knows he doesn’t have the advantage on Lamia’s home court, and you can tell how terrified he is by the way his body trembles.

Lamia cackles, a Grinch-like smirk spreading across her lips as she goes for Jungkook’s weak spot: You.

Her red eyes look straight into yours and you begin trembling uncontrollably.

She compels your mind with millions of

distressing and heart-wrenching visions, flooding your hippocampus with agonizing memories that aren’t even yours. The overload is so intense, and you feel the barriers of your brain expanding, threatening to implode.

The intensified influence of Tartarus seems to be amplifying Lamia's powers.

She no longer simply wield the ability to psychologically torture with the victim’s own memories, she can harness the most agonizing memories of the history of the world to lead you to your demise.

Gruesome visions from World War 2 relentlessly flow into your mind.

Your brain synchronizes its rhythm with your heartbeat – thump, thump, thump. Each beat sends a jolt through your body, and your breath hitches in your throat when your mind drifts to a vision of the Allied and Axis Powers marching towards one another.

The memories relentlessly infiltrate your mind, and you find yourself understanding the ruthless mindset of soldiers who were not merely bent on killing but also on torturing and annihilating- annihilating everything.

Victims of chemical warfare desperately tear at their skin, their heads exploded by gunshots. Gradually, you start feeling the effects of chemical warfare creeping over you, prompting an agonizing scream as you instinctively claw at your own face.

Suddenly, a gun magically materializes itself a few yards from you.

With tears relentlessly running down your face and hives protruding from your skin, you crawl towards it, not minding that your fingernails are digging into poisonous terrain because you’re hellbent on ending this agony.

Jungkook quickly engages Lamia in combat with his sword. Jungkook bitterly laughsl in amusement when Lamia unfurls wings from her sides, soaring around him. Of course she can fly.

Flying around Jungkook, Lamia claws and slashes, leaving a deep cut on his bicep. Grimacing in pain, he falls to his knees, clutching the wound. His expression contorts into agony, the pain becoming so excruciating that sensation from his arm starts slipping away. He tries to wiggle his fingers, but he can’t.

His ears ring, prompting a groan as he bites his lip, striving to mentally overcome the pain. Lamia's maniacal laughter echoes in his mind, but the throbbing in Jungkook's arm drowns it into a dull background noise.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you in the midst of your psychological torment, crawling towards a nearby gun.

His face falls when he realizes the scenario Lamia is attempting to placate.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, immediately rising to his knees and kicking the gun into the River Phlegethon.

Regret immediately washes over him as he watches the gun fall into the depths of the River Phlegethon. Your hysterical trance may actually compel you to jump into the river to go after it.

You were immune to fire, but Jungkook isn’t so sure that you’ll survive a bath in the river of fire.

He winces, trying to mentally overcome the intensifying throbbing in his arm so he can finally finish things.

Jungkook hurts so much seeing you like this: sobbing, ripping your hair out, writhing in agony at Lamia’s infliction.

Lamia had already taken a part of you when you were 14, leaving you shivering and trembling in the eternal darkness of Los Angeles. Jungkook would be damned if he let it happen again.

When Jungkook was 14 years old, he sent Lamia to Tartarus by decapitating her. He thinks this time, he’ll get rid of her for good by shredding her into dust, leaving no mercy.

He’ll make her death the most painful one he’s ever inflicted.

With flames in his pupils, he charges towards Lamia, slashing up with his sword to cut off the bottom of her snake tail. Before it hits the ground, he slashes it for what must have been a hundred times, cutting her tail into such tiny pieces that the wind carries her remains away.

She howls in pain and Jungkook takes that as an opportunity to leap up and tackle her to the ground. He holds her down with his good arm, his strength easily overpowering hers.

He starts by cutting off her arms, shredding her arms into nothing but dust. He finishes the job, leaving nothing but her head. It’s bloody and gruesome, but it’s everything Jungkook is used to.

He makes sure to slice off her fangs as he picks her up from her long orange hair.

Practically drenched in Lamia’s blood, Jungkook turns his head and sees you lying like a dead sack of potatoes by the River Phlegethon. The tips of your fingers are lying in the river, meaning he killed Lamia just in time.

He runs over to you and immediately fishes a canteen of nectar from his backpack, setting your head on his thigh as he puts the nectar to your lips, feeling thankful as you respond by weakly sipping on it.

Putting a hand on your forehead, he feels that you’re absolutely burning up. After weakly sipping on the nectar, you gasp like you’ve breathed your first breath.

Jungkook immediately pulls you into his embrace, his eyes full of so much relief. “Gods, inferno princess. I’m so happy that you’re okay.”

You sob into his shirt. “I was so useless, I’m sorry. You saved me. Thank you so much.”

Jungkook holds you even tighter, allowing you to sob into his shirt as he savors the sensation of having you in his arms, alive and okay.

Jungkook pulls back, fingers combing through your hair and tucking a strand behind your ear. He hands cradle your jaw, his thumbs wiping your tears away, until he realizes that he actually smeared Lamia’s blood on your face.

“Oops- sorry, I got blood on you,” he sheepishly mutters, biting his lip.

You giggle at that, wiping the blood away with your sleeve before your eyes drift towards that large gash on Jungkook’s arm.

“Gods Jungkook!” you exclaim, reaching into your magic toolbelt to pull out some healing properties. Your magic toolbelt always materializes what you need just in time.

“Oh this?” Jungkook looks down at the gash on his arm that is now foaming, bloody, and turning a shade of green, “This papercut? Don’t even worry about it.”

You scoff, quickly cleaning the wound and wrapping his arm in bandages. Jungkook always pretends like he doesn’t feel any pain, but you don’t miss the way he winces in pain when you begin to apply pressure on his wound.

Once the task is complete, your gaze shifts to the decapitated head of Lamia. Her eyes are void of life and color. Without a doubt, Jungkook had completed his duty successfully.

You narrow your eyes, examining her head, devoid of the snake's lower body, claws, and fangs.

Your chest aches as you exhale shakily.

Lamia was the most strikingly beautiful being you’ve ever encountered. You’ve met the goddess of beauty Aphrodite multiple times, and you dare to entertain the idea that Lamia surpasses her beauty.

Aphrodite has the kind of beauty that was glamorous and attention-commanding.

Lamia, on the other hand, was naturally radiant. Her look could not be easily imitated by artificial means. She was a sculpture, a form of art that would never be replicated.

No wonder the queen of the gods was so envious. No wonder the king of the gods was so utterly obsessed and smitten with her.

Her beauty is a reminder that at her core, Lamia was a human being. A tragic soul whose children met a ruthless end by none other than the gods you served. Her long, soft, and luscious orange hair cascaded across Tartarus's harsh terrain, comfortingly beautiful against its vile surroundings.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to weep for her as much as you wanted to kill her.

Eyes lifting towards Jungkook, you force a slight smile. “Ready to finish the deal?”

Jungkook looks at you and nods, unsheathing the knife on his waist, offering you the very celestial bronze knife you forged for him when you were ten years old.

You find yourself torn between tears and laughter. For some reason he always kept that stupid knife with him. You would never tell him, but it made you so emotional- like the knife was a symbol for yours and his unbreakable bond.

“You got this, inferno princess.”

You nod, gulping nervously as your fingertips brush against his, your fist closing over the handle of the knife.

You’re on the verge of bringing Jungkook’s knife down on her head, your features harden as you prepare to end Lamia for good, seeking retribution for the torment she’s inflicted and the lives she’s taken.

With a scream you will yourself to bring the knife down.

Until you don’t.

Your features soften, and the celestial knife falls with a thud.

You cast a glance at Jungkook, and he responds with a nod, seemingly grasping your thoughts.

His right hand entwines with your left, and he closes his eyes. "Oh gods, I implore your mercy upon her soul. May the fates consider her past, the loss of her children, and the wrath from the queen of the gods. I offer her head as a solemn sacrifice."

As he speaks, your fingers tighten around his, clinging onto his every word, sobbing in relief that he shares your sentiments of grief for her poor soul, even after she tried to kill you both.

With a shaky exhale, you continue. “Kindly extend your compassion to her spirit and reunite her with her offspring in the Fields of Asphodel. Anywhere but the Fields of Punishment would suffice. Please, shower your mercy upon her.”

And with that, you hold the celestial bronze knife up and bring her millenia long suffering to an end.

Following your encounter with Lamia, you and Jungkook continue your journey, navigating through the rugged terrain, weaving between jagged rocks and hiding in concealed potholes.

Unfortunately, monsters are literally built to sense demigods so it isn’t long until you encounter another monster.

The next monster you encountered is Cheimarrhus. Cheimarrhus is less of a monster and more of an elemental force: the essence of coldness in Tartarus.

When she assumes humanoid form, her skin becomes icy blue with silver hues. Her hair cascades like frozen tendrils, and her eyes gleam with an otherworldly coldness.

The aura surrounding her is so frozen cold that your flame is nothing but a mere candle.

You aren’t able to construct anything with your tool belt because Cheimarrhus simply morphed into an elemental force when you attacked. What is a hammer going to do against a snowflake?

It isn’t just that. Her mere presence is enough to extinguish your flames, physically weakening you to your knees.

On the earthly realm, Khione is the goddess of snow and winter. Cheimarrhus seems to be the Tartarus version over her.

After hours of treading away from Lamia, you and Jungkook sit in a concealed pothole, warming yourselves with a makeshift fire sparked by your finger. Jungkook sits closely by you, wrapping an arm around you while you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you Jungkook,” you murmur, “Thank you for saving me from Lamia. Gods, I was about to jump in the River Phlegethon- I could have died.” You burn your eyes into the lively flame, finding solace in its orange and red hues.

Jungkook looks at you incredulously. “Inferno princess,” he expresses dumbfoundedly, “We’re in this together. We’re a team. I would give my life for you to survive. You’re key to defeating Gaia. The others can’t do it without you.”

Your gaze remains fixed on the fire. You shake your head. “Don’t talk about losing your life so easily. I would give my life for you to survive, Kook. I already played my part by retrieving the armor from the Hephaestion. I’m not needed anymore.”

Your declaration is solemn, but you truly do mean it. You’ve played your role in accordance with the prophecy. Jungkook, Mingyu, Rose, Mina, Taehyung, and Namjoon would fare well without you.

Jungkook’s features harden. “Then I’ll make sure we both make it.”

A smile adorns your lips, and Jungkook thinks that the loveliness of your smile would bring life to flowers even in the heart of Tartarus. You nudge him softly with your body. “That’s true. We’re both going to make it.”

“That’s right, inferno princess. Atta girl. None of this death talk anymore. It’s depressing.”

You snuggle into the warmth of Jungkook’s body, enjoying the brevity of peace in the deepest pit of hell- until something feels off. You immediately jerk away from him, eliciting a look of concern from Jungkook.

“Would she mind that we’re -like- cuddling right now?” you ask.

Jungkook frowns. “Who?”

“Seraphina. I mean- you haven’t mentioned her once this entire time. Don’t you miss her?”

Seraphina is Jungkook’s special friend, or talking stage, or something like that. In your opinion, she’s easily the most beautiful girl at camp, even amongst her siblings in the Aphrodite cabin.

Before you left on the voyage to Greece, you’d seen Jungkook and Seraphina meandering around camp, holding hands, making out behind the Ares cabin.

He blinks at you with a sense of disbelief. “Inferno princess,” he deadpans, “We’re literally freezing our asses off in Tartarus. She’ll be fine.”

You shake your head. “Even in Tartarus, it doesn’t feel right. Seraphina’s my friend-”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jungkook cuts you off.

“But I saw you-”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re just messing around. She’s about to break things off with me anyways. It’s a rite of passage in the Aphrodite cabin- breaking a boy’s heart. Bonus points if it’s an Ares kid. She thinks she’s playing me but I’m playing her.”

You frown. “Oh.”

Typical of an Aphrodite kid. Aphrodite cheated on your dad with Jungkook’s dad, and you can’t help but feel scorn for her. You thought Seraphina was better than that.

Jungkook playing along with it is kinda icky too. You decide to call him out for it once you return to the mortal world.

As a Hephaestus kid, it’s definitely in your nature to judge the antics of Ares and Aphrodite kids.

“Are you sure you’re not just bringing it up because of Jaehyun?” he raises a brow at you and pulls you from your judgemental trance.

You scoff. “Seriously? How much longer are you going to bring that up?”

Last summer, you kissed Jaehyun, son of Apollo after the daily campfire ceremony. He had just returned on a quest to retrieve the Pythian bow. The Pythian bow is a golden bow with arrows that never miss their mark. The very existence of the Pythian bow guaranteed the precision and accuracy of all archers.

When news came out that it was stolen, Jaehyun, Namjoon, and Nayeon, a hunter of Artemis, were sent on a quest to Yellowstone National Park to get it back.

When they returned, Jaehyun announced that the Pythian bow was stolen by a giant and offspring of Gaia, Tityos.

Tityos was said to have lusted after Leto, Artemis and Apollo’s mother, and attempted to violate Leto during her pregnancy. Apollo and Artemis who were still in their mother’s womb were not pleased by this and slew Tityos with their arrows once they were born.

When Jaehyun announced to the camp that Tityos, the offspring of Gaia, had returned from Tartarus, a bone chilling unease dispersed through the assembly of demigod campers. With hindsight, you realize that this was only the beginning of Gaia’s revival.

Back then, you were so relieved to see that he returned safely so you ran into his arms and kissed his cheek. It was a heat-in-the-moment thing, and when Jaehyun turned his head- well, that was your first kiss.

The weight of it settled uncomfortably in your stomach when you realized that Jaehyun was all in for you. Letting him down was heart-wrenching, and you still feel terrible for breaking the guy’s heart.

Crazily enough, Jungkook witnessed the entire thing during a walk back from the woods. Once you pulled away from Jaehyun, Jungkook approached you both, slow-clapping like an evil villain. Jaehyun glared intensely at Jungkook, who scoffed in disdain before sauntering back to the Ares cabin.

He made you feel like shit and you were still pissed about it.

“Gods Y/N, I had to bleach my eyes out after witnessing that. I deserve to be compensated,” he sasses.

You shake your head in disbelief. “That was my first kiss, Kook. And now I have to think of my first kiss with your deplorable face in mind.”

Jungkook’s lips curl smugly. “Good.”

You glare at him. “Is that all you have to say? Asshole.”

He shrugs. “Just give me a hug, inferno princess. We should get back on our feet soon.” He opens his arms, prompting a disdainful expression from you.

Your eyes drift towards the bandaged wound on his bicep, and your features soften. “Does it still hurt?”

Just looking at the thing made your arm throb. Disgusting shades of green and purple peeked through the sheer bandages. “Hold up, let me clean it.”

You reach into your tool belt, the materials in mind magically appearing.

As you undo his bandages, Jungkook’s features curl in agony, wincing at the re-exposure. You use sterile gauze to wipe the wound before dabbing it with petroleum jelly.

Jungkook’s arms are thick, but you treat his skin as if it’s the most delicate substance. Gently cleaning the wound with an antiseptic solution, you rewrap it with a sterile bandage, ensuring a snug fit.

“It should have been me.”

You lift your head, staring at him with a look of curiosity, your eyes flickering around his features to detect any insincerity.

You know what he’s talking about, but you still feel the need to ask. “What?”

“Your first kiss,” he replies, flexing and extending his arm in comfort now that it was freshly bandaged. “It should have been me.”

He looks right at you, his expression hardened- perhaps to mask his vulnerability or to convey the sincerity of his confession.

With his features so stoic, you take a second to admire how handsome he is.

Even with his face battered and bloody, he resembles a sculpture. Every feature aligns to create the most handsome person you've ever seen.

Your breath catches in your throat. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.

He relents on his stoic expression, a subtle warmth enveloping his features as he releases a light-hearted laughter. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know,” he looks around and rubs the nape of his neck, “Tartarus isn’t the best place to make a confession, eh?”

You laugh in disbelief, “That was very Jungkook of you,” you comment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He smiles, dusting his pants off to stand up, offering you a hand. You take his hand, standing, and at that moment, your makeshift fire extinguishes. The temperature plummets, and the night becomes impossibly dark.

Jungkook immediately unsheathes his celestial bronze knife, assuming defensive stance as he conducts a 360 degree scan of his surroundings.

There is a clear threat, but he can’t detect any presence.

You stand back to back with Jungkook, hair rapidly whipping against the fierce winds. The plummeting temperature sends chills through your skin, nearly freezing you solid.

You will yourself to blaze a fire from your fingertips, but to no avail. You exert more magical energy into at least sparking a flame, but the force of the frigid winds snuffs your flame out every time.

Suddenly, an evil cackle echoes throughout the atmosphere.

“Foolish demigods, entering Tartarus unprepared," the voice resonates with an eerie chill. "In the realm of perpetual cold, your feeble flames are but futile flickers. These days, Tartarus really likes cooling down." The freezing air intensifies, making it harder for you to even draw breath.

You attempt once more to summon a flame from your fingertips, determined to defy the numbing cold. However, the frigid winds persistently resist your efforts, extinguishing any spark you manage to conjure.

“Reveal yourself,” Jungkook utters lowly.

“Isn’t the cold to your liking?” As she speaks, she becomes louder, her voice ringing in your ears and making you wince.

Particles of snow begin whirling around in tornado formation ahead of you, the tornado becoming thinner and thinner until it morphs into humanoid form. The woman who appears has icy blue skin, hair cascading in frozen tendrils, and a glacial aura that crystallizes the air within a three foot vicinity.

Taking in her humanoid form, you finally realize who she is, and you gasp. “Cheimarrhus.”

You don’t realize how much your lips are trembling until you hear your own voice- the way you said her name sounded nothing more than a chatter.

She smirks. “Well done, young demigod. I applaud you for recognizing me. The power-hungry Olympians have practically wiped my name from existence. The gods all know that Khione is threatened by me.”

The face of Khione, the goddess of snow and winter on the earthly realm appears in your mind.

Jungkook eyes you before lying straight through his teeth. “That’s not true. You’re in our curriculum at Camp Half-Blood: Tartarus Monsters 202. They don’t even teach you in 101 because you’re too advanced and powerful.”

Cheimarrhus seems to be pleased by that, satisfaction enveloping her features before she sneers. “The giants must be the center of the 101 course. I swear they get all the attention.”

You nod in agreement. “Of course. But you understand that’s standard, right? They don’t dare let the younger demigods know about you because they would have too many nightmares.”

Cheimarrhus cackles, licking her lips.

You and Jungkook eye each other, awkwardly laughing along with her to hopefully appease the blizzard.

“SILENCE.”

You flinch, taking a step back, Jungkook reaching for your hand to stabilize you.

“Do you take me for a fool? You demigods and your lies. Typical,” she spits, her anger causing the temperature to plummet even more. “Now demigods, suffer. I will win Tartarus’s favor by freezing you to death.”

“Hey! We were just trying to be nice!-”

Her body morphs into snow particles, whirling around before it disperses throughout the atmosphere.

You look at Jungkook, ice crystallizing around strands of his hair, his skin an unhealthy hue of blue, and his lips trembling. You’re sure you don’t look much better because his features morph into horror when he looks at you.

“Y-Y/N. L-let’s take the motorcycle and get the outta here.”

“What about th-the monsters?”

“Fuck that, we’ll freeze to death first.”

You nod in agreement, and Jungkook presses a button on his watch, watching as it unfolds into a Celestial Bronze Harley Davidson motorcycle. You zoom off on the motorcycle, arms locked around Jungkook’s waist. Gods, getting on the motorcycle was probably a worse idea, the frigid air rushing against your face as the motorcycle accelerated.

Cheimarrhus is relentless, trailing on you as rapidly as she matches the motorcycle’s speed.

“Jungkook!” You call out, “This isn’t working!”

The motorcycle comes to an abrupt stop and you both tumble onto the ground as the watch returns to Jungkook’s wrist.

You crawl around the ground, sobbing and looking for Jungkook. “Jungkook, where are you? Please Jungkook, please!”

You hear him shuffle towards you before he helps you up from both armpits. You both tread to a nearby pothole, settling into it while you cling onto each other, desperately clinging to each other’s body heat.

The side effects of frostbite can be fatal. In highly severe instances, the freezing cold penetrates human tissue, causing body parts like toes, fingers, and noses to freeze and eventually fall off.

You close your eyes, nestling in Jungkook’s embrace as you prepare to welcome your final moments.

“Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“I had a crush on you from -like- 12 to 15. I thought I should let you know in case, you know.”

“Gods inferno princess, didn’t we agree to not talk about death? It’s just an average day for us demigods. Frostbite, freezing to death? What does that even mean? It would never happen to us,” he muses, blue lips curling up into a teasing smile.

You push your face into the now sopping fabric of Jungkook’s shirt, laughing. Who would even laugh in a situation like this?

“So what’d I do to make you stop liking me?” he asks, looking down at you.

“Nothing, you just didn’t like me back,” you shrug, your shoulders barely moving in the freezing cold.

“That’s not true. I liked you the moment I laid eyes on you. That’s why I was such an asshole. It was the only way 10-year-old me knew how to flirt.”

You cease your motions, your frosty eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “You always had a thing for Aphrodite girls. I didn’t know.”

“It was only because you never batted an eye at me. Had me heartbroken.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Gods, I think that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, even in Tartarus.”

“What do you say? Do you have it in your heart to give me another chance? I want you for real. I want us for real.”

After the incident last summer, you swore you wouldn’t ever make any spur-in-the-moment decisions, until your frosty fingers cup Jungkook’s cheeks, and you kiss him.

Jungkook seems a bit taken aback, but reciprocates your kiss with equal fervor, placing his hands on the small of your back to stabilize you. The ice on your lips melts, and at that moment, everything seems okay.

Gods, you feel so warm on the inside that the temperature outside seems to gradually rise.

You pull back, eyes flickering around your surroundings. The blizzard is gone. Cheimarrhus is gone. Somehow the warmth returned, making even Tartarus feel like a tropical paradise.

In relief, you pull Jungkook in for another kiss. He holds your cheeks with his rugged palms, practically drinking from your lips in reprieve.

The sound of thundering footsteps pull you away from each other.

Yours and Jungkook’s heads whip towards the sounds of the footsteps, and there stands a thirty foot giant.

The giant is colossal in stature, the stony texture of his skin giving him an appearance as if built from the very rocks that surrounded him. The monster has a horrifying and booming presence, its malevolent aura casting an ominous feeling in your gut.

The giant blinks at you and Jungkook, the most nonchalant look cloaking his rugged features.

Momentarily, you consider the idea that the giant might not see you- but no he does- because he dismisses your mere existence with a wave before sauntering back to a hut a kilometer away.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook mutters.

Every footstep the giant takes induces vibrations through the terrain, making yours and Jungkook’s teeth chatter just as much as Cheimarrhus’s blizzard did.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir! Can you help us?!” Jungkook’s voice echoes throughout the atmosphere and your heart drops into your ass.

Giants were the direct offspring of Gaia, the Earthmother you were on a quest to kill.

If Cheimarrhus didn’t kill you, then this giant would surely be the one to finish the deal.

The giant slowly turns around, eyes narrowing at you like you’re the scum of the Earth. You shudder in anticipation.

“Follow me to my hut,” is all he says, turning back around and walking steadily towards his hut.

You and Jungkook quickly scramble to your feet, fingers intertwined as you trail behind the giant, leaving a few meters in between you and the giant.

The giant turns around again, and it’s like the whole earth rumbles. “What are you doing? Hurry up!” You and Jungkook cast questionable glances at each other, but nonetheless scramble to the giant’s side.

After a few odd moments of walking, the giant speaks up. “So, how’d you two get to Tartarus? I’ve never seen any demigods around here before.”

A giant starting a casual conversation with you in Tartarus was not on your bingo card for this year.

Jungkook told the giant the entire story eliciting a deep sigh from the monster. “That’s my mother, always insistent on wreaking havoc. She banished me and disowned me, her son for the same reason- because I refused to fight your father.” He looks right at Jungkook, and at that moment, a lightbulb appears above your head.

The giant you were addressing was Damasen.

Damasen was originally a giant created by the Earth goddess Gaea to serve her in her plans to overthrow the Olympian gods.

He was designed to be the bane of Ares, Jungkook’s father. Damasen was quite literally created to embody the antithesis of the war god’s essence, the only being designed to incapacitate Ares.

Ultimately, this backfired on Gaia. While many giants were naturally hostile towards the gods, Damasen differed in nature. Damasen rejected war, with a gentle heart that rejected the brutality often associated with Ares.

“You’re Damasen” you exhale breathlessly.

“Correct, daughter of Hephaestus. Come in my hut and have soup, then I’ll send you both on your way.”

Damasen the Friendly poured you and Jungkook bowls of drakon soup, chunks of drakon meat floating in the broth.

“What about you, Mr. Damasen? Why don’t you tell us your story?” you implore, heartily sipping down the soup.

Damasen smiles. “It’s just as I said. I rejected war, resulting in abandonment from my mother. Instead, I chose to live a peaceful life on Earth as a farmer. I befriended other mortal farmers, and we lived in harmony planting wheat and barley,” he shrugs, lifting his mug in a fatherly way as he takes a sip of hot water.

You and Jungkook exchange dumbfounded glances. A giant living peacefully among mortals was absolutely unheard of.

“It was a peaceful millenia,” he continues, “Until a drakon escaped into the mortal realm and began ravaging all the farms. I couldn’t let it be. I slayed it. My mother banished me to Tartarus, cursing me to slay the drakon everyday for the rest of my life.”

On cue, a drakon roar reverberates between the walls. Damasen casts a dark look to the outside of the hut and immediately springs into action.

You and Jungkook watch dumbfoundedly as Damasen slays the enormous creature and walks to the hut like returning from a walk in the park.

“Damasen, you’re amazing,” you express in awe, to which Damasen shrugs.

“You demigods may rest on the hammock. You both look awful. We can continue this conversation once you wake,” he says, pointing towards a hammock made from drakon skin in the corner.

Jungkook wants to protest, feeling unsafe about sleeping vulnerable in the presence of a giant, but he’s too tired to process anything.

He plops onto the hammock, welcoming you with open arms as you both sink into the sheets, falling into a restful slumber after the most difficult hours of your life.

Jungkook wakes first, eyes blinking groggily as his eyes venture towards you, sleeping peacefully in the crook of his armpit. Careful not to wake you up, he gently lifts your head with his palm and gently places it against a pillow before standing from the hammock.

Damasen sits on the kitchen table, structured from Drakon bone, reading a Guide to the Underworld by Persephone and Demeter, a book that must have blown into the pit of Tartarus.

He takes a seat by Damasen. “Sir, we need you to lead us towards the Doors of Death.”

The Doors of Death stood as the sole gateway to the mortal realm. Gaia and her giants had seized control of these doors, enabling monsters to surge back into the mortal world with alarming speed. You and Jungkook had to enter the mortal realm through the Doors of Death, sealing it off from Tartarus’s side while the rest of the crew would work on closing the doors from the Earthly side.

Damasen shakes his head, and Jungkook becomes slightly intimidated. This giant was designed to kill his father, the most fierce warrior amongst the Olympians. Though Damasen claimed a life of peace, what if he changed his mind? Damasen could crush Jungkook with his bare fists.

“Son of Ares, I already told you that I chose to leave a life of peace. I do not wish to involve myself with pointless affairs.”

Jungkook grimaces, taking a knee on the concrete floor, a sign of respect for the Greeks “Sir, please. I’d do anything. We won’t survive without your guidance.”

Damasen lifts his gaze from the book to Jungkook, seemingly trapped in intense contemplation. “There is one thing you can do.”

“Whatever you need, I’ll try my best to do it for you,” Jungkook implores.

“My pocket knife,” Damasen responds, “It was the only belonging I carried from the mortal realm. The drakon knocked it into the River Phlegethon, and it’s been sitting at the bottom since. The child of Hephaestus can retrieve it for me.”

“No-”

“I’ll do it,” you declare, sitting up from the hammock.

Jungkook cuts you off immediately. “Sir, is there anything else I can do? I don’t want to put her in danger.”

Damasen shrugs, “That’s all I can think of. I’ll let you know if I come up with anything else.”

You shake your head, joining Jungkook and Damasen at the kitchen table, sitting on one of the drakon bone chairs. “I can do it. I’m immune to fire.”

Jungkook glares at you, and you respond with an even more fierce glare. Damasen, studying the dynamic between you and Jungkook, releases a sigh. “Child, does your father know about your relationship with this son of Ares? I imagine Hephaestus won’t find that very favorable.”

You stick out your hand, partially ignoring Damasen’s comment about Jungkook. Damasen uses his pointer finger and thumb to shake your hand.

“Call me Y/N. If I retrieve the pocket knife from the River Phlegethon, join us on our quest. You can return to the mortal world and work as a farmer on Camp Half-Blood. We’re looking for a manager for our strawberry fields.”

Damasen shakes his head, “Your efforts would be futile. Even if I tried to leave, we would walk endlessly until returning to this hut.”

“Damasen,” you implore, “You deserve so much more than this. You deserve to see the stars, the sky, the moon. We need you.”

“If you retrieve the knife, I will guide you towards the Doors of Death. I will not be able to provide assistance beyond that,” he stubbornly responds, refusing to change his stance.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you exhale. “Okay. Where’s the knife?”

Jungkook scowls deeply at you. “Y/N. It’s dangerous. We can do this a different way.” He redirects his attention towards Damasen. “Anything else. Just let me know, anything that a son of Ares can do, I will do.”

“You already killed Lamia. At the very least, I can do this. I’m immune to fire, I’ll be able to survive at least 5 minutes in the river, and I can come back up to the surface if I need to.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “No. You’re not doing it.”

You frown deeply at him. “What, so you think I’m too weak to contribute to the quest?”

“What? No- that’s not what I’m saying. I just want you to be safe.”

You place both palms on his shoulders, looking at him straight in the eyes. “Jungkook,” you declare firmly, “Drop the Prince Charming complex. We’re in Tartarus. I wouldn’t try if I knew I couldn’t do it.”

Leaving him dumbfounded, you face Damasen. “Lead the way. I’m ready to jump in when you are.”

Jungkook clears his throat. “Damasen, give us a moment to discuss. Please.” He pulls you by your wrist to a corner of the drakon bone hut. You’re not necessarily secluded and Damasen catches heed to every word.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably. “You’re sure you can do it? You’ve never walked into a fire, let alone swam in one.”

You dismiss the notion with a wave. “I have. I saved some mortals from a house fire last summer. At the very least I can do five minutes- maybe ten if I try hard enough.”

Jungkook eyes you suspiciously, but you refuse to relent on your stoicism. Of course, you’re lying, but Jungkook doesn’t need to know that.

“Fine,” Jungkook relents, “But you’re making a silicone harness, with a fire-proof string, and I’m pulling you out after three minutes,” he compromises, features hardening.

That’s all you’re getting, and you are going to take it if it means getting this over with more quickly.

“Damasen, if you give us a minute, I’m going to construct a makeshift breathing apparatus. Jungkook, I won’t make a harness, but I can tie a string around my waist. Pull me out after three minutes.”

You begin pulling things from your toolbelt, leaving Damasen to marvel at it. “Hephaestus technology, huh?” he beckons, “Your father must love you a lot to provide you with something like this.”

You shrug, “I guess. Man doesn’t talk to me much. It’s whatever,” you respond, quickly brushing off the topic as your hands quickly assemble a makeshift breathing apparatus from titanium alloys, ceramic composites, and rubber seals.

Anyways, without delving too much into the details of yours and Jungkook’s excursion to Tartarus, you can safely claim you and Jungkook soundly escaped Tartarus.

Damasen was not so lucky.

That didn’t mean, however, that you and Jungkook weren’t on the brink of death when you narrowly escaped Tartarus through the Doors of Death.

Writhing on the floor, you vaguely remember Taehyung whisking you in his arms, willing the water from the surrounding lakes to form a wave, carrying himself back to the ship.

Meanwhile, Mingyu, son of Jupiter, soared through the air carrying an unconscious Jungkook from the crooks of his armpits.

You and Jungkook must have laid idle for quite a while in the ship’s corridors, and your friends, in their infinitely loyal nature, sat by your bedside for the entire time.

Rose, daughter of Apollo and one of the demigods on the quest, remained by your side throughout, using her most powerful healing properties to save you from returning to the Underworld as a dead spirit.

Her voice was the very first thing you heard when you woke up.

“Gods Taehyung, you fucking idiot, don’t pour more than half of a cup of nectar into the canteen! It needs to stay refrigerated!”

“Damn doctor- I’m trying my best here!”

You blink groggily, closing your eyes shut at the sunlight seeping through your eyelids like you have a sun allergy.

“Rosie?” you breathlessly express.

Rose drops nearly spills the canteen of nectar onto her pretty dress and whips her head towards you.

“Praise the gods, Y/N!” she squeals, reaching out to embrace you before she rapidly recoils her arms, “Oh shit, I don’t want to hurt you, but Gods Y/N, I’m so fucking happy you’re awake!”

You shake your head, sitting up on the bed, allowing Rose to cup your cheeks and rest her forehead on yours.

“‘m fine Rosie, I feel brand new,” you mumble, and she finally reaches her arms out to tightly embrace you, tears of relief streaming down her face, soiling the fabric of your T-shirt.

“Gods Rosie, are you crying?” you express, a teasing giggle leaving your lips.

She playfully swats at your shoulder, “Yes Y/N, I’m fucking crying! I was worried sick! You fell into freaking Tartarus for Gods’ sake! We were so worried that you wouldn’t make it back, and to just-to just- to just see that you and Jungkook are okay- Gods, I’m so happy!”

The sounds of more cries echo across the walls, and you lift your head from Rose’s shoulder, blinking like you might be hallucinating because Taehyung is sobbing, like actual tears streaming down his face.

You don’t think you’ve seen him cry since you were 14, during the Battle of the Labyrinth.

And as much as you want to make a teasing comment, you know you shouldn’t encourage his toxic masculinity any further.

He’s using his large palms to wipe the snot seeping out of his nostrils, and you and Rose simply look at each other, not knowing what to do or say.

Should you comfort him? Should you say something?

“I need to pee,” is all you muster in response.

Rose laughs, rising up, wiping her palms on her jeans. “Want me to come along?”

“Duh.”

At that moment, you feel a large palm wrap around the circumference of your wrist.

“Don’t go,” is all Jungkook mumbles, resting his forearm on his eyes to shield himself from the sun. He opens a single eye, and you feel your heart skip a beat- the sun is perfectly reflecting off Jungkook’s skin, making his brown irises appear the prettiest shade of hazel, and he’s looking at you so needily you wish you could stay with him forever.

He tightens his hold on your wrist, pulling you towards him- you resist slightly so he doesn’t pull you on top of him in front of everyone. “Shit baby, we made it. It’s you and me inferno princess, the only demigods to survive Tartarus.”

And with that, the hand on your wrist moves to the back of your head, and he pulls your lips toward his, kissing you deeply like you were made of the sweetest nectar. You’re a bit taken aback, but you kiss him back just as passionately, eyes shutting in relief because Jungkook is okay.

He almost died several times in Tartarus protecting you. He laid his life down to save yours, and Gods, you hate to admit it but Jungkook is your handsome warrior, your Prince Charming, your man.

You would do anything for him.

You only pull away from each other when the sound of a canteen clatters on the floor.

“Apollo’s Arrows!” Rosie backs away, nearly toppling over a nearby chair, a palm clasped over her mouth, “What happened in Tartarus?”

“What the fuck, Jeon!!” Mingyu gasps.

Your head whips to your left, and the rest of the crew is standing in the doorway. Namjoon, Mina, and Mingyu are gaping at you, meaning that the entire crew witnessed the kiss.

“Surprise..?” you squeak.

Mina, daughter of the Roman goddess Venus, quite literally leaps onto the bed, enveloping you in the tightest hug she’s ever bestowed. “I knew it! I swear, my mom told me you two were designed for each other in a dream! Gods, is Jungkook the first guy you didn’t reject?”

Your cheeks flush at that.

The goddess of love herself claimed that you and Jungkook were designed for each other? Did the fates also weave this into their tapestries?

Jungkook raises a brow. “How many other guys did you reject?”

Mina squeals, “Jeon you wouldn’t believe it- I’ve got a whole list right here, lemme just pull it out-”

Namjoon walks over, placing a soft hand on Mina’s back. He looks up, addressing you and Jungkook. “I’m happy for you lovebirds, but if you’re all healed, we need you guys back up on the deck. We’re sailing into the Sea of Monsters.”

Taehyung stands, the sclera of his eyes fading from a bloodshot red to a crimson pink. He and Jungkook exchange knowing glances, and Taehyung approaches, offering Jungkook a handshake, (or a dap?), to which Jungkook obliges before Taehyung reaches into his pocket for his pen.

He puts it on display, holding it between his pointer and thumb, biting his lower lip in jubilation, a smirk spreading across his lips.

He pushes past everybody, shoots up the stairs, leaving the rest of the crew to only perceive the sound of Taehyung’s pen clicking and transforming into a sexy Celestial Bronze sword.

Jungkook stands, twisting his neck around to ease tension before he leans down to place a brief, but sweet kiss on your lips. “Gotta go babe, get some more rest.”

And with that, Jungkook disappears into the corridors, Namjoon following his lead.

Mina and Rose join you on the bed, the three of you sitting in bestie formation.

“Firstly,” Mina begins, “Are you okay? Gods Y/N, you survived fucking Tartarus.”

You nod, recalling everything that had happened in the pit, from your experiences with Lamia to deep diving into the River Phlegethon. “It hasn’t hit me yet,” you murmur, “but I guess that’ll have to wait until after we finally get rid of Gaia.”

Rose and Mina wrap you in a hug, their love and friendship seeping into you, and the feeling is tangible, so you allow yourself to melt into their embrace. A hug. A hug from your best girl friends is all you need right now.

They pull away, and with a giggle, Rose asks “So what happened with you and Jeon? Don’t tell me you lost your virginity in Tartarus-”

The sound of someone clearing their throat cuts Rosie off, and the three of you immediately whip your heads towards Mingyu, son of Jupiter, who had apparently been there the entire time.

He’s leaning against the doorway, the hilt of his Imperial Gold sword sticking up from the scabbard hooked to his belt.

“He’s been here the whole time?” Mina deadpans to which Mingyu scoffs and shakes his head, taking a seat on the wheely chair by the bed.

“Daughters of Venus, Apollo, and Hephaestus, and none of you could detect the presence of another demigod?” he teases.

“Ugh whatever,” Mina muses, “It’s just because your energy is too weak. Not much to detect anyways”.

Looks like it’s just Mingyu and the girlies.

Or one Greek demigod with three Roman demigods,

Or just four distant relatives through their godly parents just hanging around (except godly DNA wasn’t really a thing).

Mingyu dismisses her claim with a wave of his hand before rolling over to give you a side hug, “I’m glad you’re safe Y/N, and I’m happy you and Jungkook found each other. At least one good thing came from this.”

You blush, thanking Mingyu.

“That guy is like head over heels for you, he looks like he could take a giant on by himself for you,” he teases, to which Mina nods enthusiastically.

“Oh yea Y/N, anybody could tell that Jungkook had a thing for you- you were probably the only one who didn’t know,” Rose agrees.

That makes you redden. You rewind all your previous interactions with Jungkook like a cassette, regurgitating anything that could possibly be interpreted as romantic, but nope, nothing arises.

You pause, thinking back to your quest with Lamia at 14.

Jungkook was so adamant to go on that quest, and you always assumed it was because of his obsession with winning. He wanted to claim the fame and glory that came with completing a quest. He had the time of his life killing ferocious monsters and he could make his dad proud while stroking his own ego.

Quite honestly, it never occurred to you that he accompanied you on all these quests because he liked you.

You open your mouth to say something, but the wretched growls and howls of a sea monster cut you off. The upper deck shakes, rubble from the roof falling onto the ground.

You four give each other knowing looks and bolt up the stairs.

The next two weeks on ships were the most cathartic weeks of Jungkook’s life.

He takes every chance he can romance you, savoring what could have been the past five years. Needless to say, Jungkook is madly in love.

It was the middle of the night, and the sound of your alarm blared in your ears. That meant you were needed for duty on the upper deck.

All members of the crew took turns guarding the upper deck to protect the ship against sea monsters, wind spirits, and any other murder-inducing apparatuses. With a yawn you stumble towards the bathroom, quickling washing up before heading towards the stairs.

Mingyu and Namjoon are leaning against the railings of the ship, appearing like literal death after being on guard for eight hours. You nod at both of them and Namjoon gives you a brief hug before disappearing down the stairs.

You head towards the figurehead, peering at the endless sea and the large crescent moon as you let the wind blow in your face like Rose from Titanic.

Lost in your thoughts, you squeal when a hoodie-clad Jungkook sneaks up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist. He rests his head in the crook of your neck, making the gesture to sniff deeply, which gets him an elbow in the abs.

“Such a barbarian, Kook,” you murmur.

“What? I love your B.O,” he teases.

Disgusting. He’s so gross. So disgusting, and you are disgustingly in love with him.

You swirl around, leaning on the edge of the ship to face him so you can cup his face and sweetly kiss him. You love the texture of his tan skin- much more keratinized than yours- the calluses on his hands and the rough texture on his face somehow makes you feel safe in a weird dermatologist way.

This time, Jungkook doesn’t kiss back, just keeps his eyes open so he can admire you, laughing a bit when you pull away from him.

You bite your lip, crimsoning to the shade of Cupid’s bum. “What?” you pout.

Jungkook shrugs, eyes never averting from yours. “Nothing,” he replies nonchalantly, “You’re particularly lovely tonight.” And he means it.

Under the moonlight, you become more mesmerizing. The night sky and chilly breeze sets the ambiance perfectly. If Jungkook could, he would park the ship by a nearby island and take you on a picnic date by the shore.

You don’t feel lovely- you’re exhausted and quite honestly you kinda want to die but Jungkook never fails to see the beauty in your impurities.

“You should get some rest. You were on guard for like eight hours today” you respond softly. His eyes, though filled with love, are tired with dark circles beneath, and you immediately become concerned for the well being of the man.

He grins, his pupils following your every movement and you don’t realize that Jungkook is slowly inching towards you. You look worried out of your mind and he can’t even take you seriously, thinking you’re the most precious thing in the world. “Did you even sleep? And you’re on guard next,” you beckon.

He looks at you like you’re crazy, scoffing playfully with a hand on his heart. “Babygirl thinks I can’t handle being up for more than twenty four hours? ‘m not a boy anymore, I’m a grown ass man.”

“A grown ass man that needs to sleep,” you point out, gaze hardening.

Jungkook pouts at that, arms sneaking around you as he pulls you closer. “I wanna be with my girl. Send me back to Tartarus if that’s so evil.”

You rake your fingertips through his hair, shaking your head while you laugh at his comment. “And I want my handsome boyfriend to get sleep so he can be his best when he’s on guard duty.”

He lowers his head and whines into the crook of your neck, nibbling on the skin in retaliation.

“After your guard duty today,” you whisper, “Come by my room. We can spend the night together,” your voice in itself makes Jungkook freeze. You sound so alluring, and Jungkook can’t help but fall victim to your seduction.

Greek heroes were known to have fatal flaws: tragic downfalls that led to their bitter demise in all the classics. Hercules’ fatal flaw was impulsivity. Achilles' fatal flaw was his arrogance. Jungkook thinks that his fatal flaw is you. He’d burn the whole world if it meant you were okay.

He pulls away, somewhat surprised while he scans your face for any hint of unseriousness. “Okay,” Jungkook acquiesces, “But call me if you need anything.” With another brief kiss, he turns around and stalks back to his cabin.

For the past five minutes, you’ve been sitting at your desk. A sewing machine from your tool belt is placed in front of you, and you must be out of your mind because you’re actually sewing black lace lingerie.

Of course a daughter of Hephaestus can engineer and sew.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you compare the fabric with your body to ensure the lingerie looks as appealing as possible.

You think you look good but you can’t help the self conscious thoughts seeping into your mind, and thus you resist the urge to smash your head into the sewing machine.

You briefly consider throwing the scraps of fabric into the trash can and pretending this never happened, but at the very least, you should see the lingerie through before deciding to go through with it.

You don’t know what it is, but you are aware that you have some twisted fantasy in the deepest trenches of your heart about seducing your man, a sultry look in your eyes as you beckon him towards you before smothering your body in every crevice of his.

You want him to be enamored with you; you want him to be mesmerized beyond comprehension, and you want to give yourself to him completely.

Gods, this was a dark thought but you and Jungkook were on a dangerous, life-threatening quest. Who knows when either of you will meet your treacherous demise? You might as well adopt the whole fuck it, we’re going to die anyway philosophy and carry out the little silly adventures you’ve dreamt of, especially while you’re alive.

You slide the lingerie and look at yourself in the mirror- you don’t even recognize yourself.

You must be out of your mind.

Jungkook suffers through a long eight hours of waiting around on the upper deck, slaughtering sea monsters, negotiating with Greek guardians, and killing the occasional goddess.

He knows he shouldn’t be distracted during a quest, but he can’t help but visualize your face every time he closes his eyes. Jungkook’s had a crush on you ever since you were 10 and a decade later it stubbornly refused to fade.

He is alright with that.

If anything, he should be thanking Aphrodite for finally letting you and him happen because he has more of a reason to fight- more of a reason to conquer.

For you. It was all for you.

He’s pulled from his trance by the footsteps of Mina and Taehyung, meaning that it was their turn for guard duty and his shift was up. Jungkook bites his lips to hide the smile of ecstasy threatening to swallow his entire face, and he realizes he must be ass at hiding his expression because Mina eyes him with pure suspicion.

He doesn’t care.

He zooms down the stairs, whizzing through the hallways before stopping at your door. He takes a deep breath, wiping off the dust from his clothes. He probably smells, but that’s okay. What nerd even has time to shower on a quest to save the world?

Opening the door, the softest gasp leaves his lips.

His hands fumble the Celestial Bronze knife in his grasp, and it falls to the ground with a clack clack clack.

Jungkook is starstruck, and he inhales shakily before he kicks the celestial knife to the side before swiveling around, ensuring no one was peering through the cracks before he closes the door behind him.

The room is decorated with candles, and no matter how the ship heaves and hoes, the candles remain in place, their flames still shining brightly and swaying with the movement of the shop.

Thank gods he’s dating a Hephaestus girl who can do freaky things like mechanically engineer non-flammable, non-movable candles that still retain the sultry ambiance of a normal candle.

He licks his lips.

In the middle of the bed, surrounded by rose petals sits you, in sheer black lace lingerie, staring at him innocently like you haven’t a clue how you’re twisting and turning his insides.

The lingerie fits you perfectly, accentuating every line and curve on your body and Jungkook truly truly thinks that you’re more beautiful than Aphrodite herself.

“Hey, Kook,” you whisper and Jungkook thinks he’s going to have a heart attack because he’s heard your voice millions of times but still thinks it sounds so sweet, beckoning him over to you.

He gulps.

What a woman you are.

“And before you ask, I engineered the door to only open for you,” you giggle, watching Jungkook as his fingers tousle with the upper hem of his shirt, throwing it off to reveal his Greek-god build. Before he gets to the bed, he tumbles out of his sweatpants, leaving them on the floor- not even thinking. His mind is only on you.

He doesn’t say anything, and he knows damn well that a stupid door isn’t what he’s thinking about. He reaches the bed, crawls to you, and with his knees on the bed, he lifts you like you’re nothing as he holds your body from your waist as he kisses you.

He kiss kisses you, his tongue in your mouth, moaning because you taste sweeter than you usually do- and he’s not sure if it’s because of the show you’ve put on for him, or because he’s falling more in love with you everyday.

The skin to skin contact is more real than ever. You’re so close that there isn’t a gap between your stomachs. All he can feel is you and the texture of your lace lingerie, and he absolutely melts into the feeling of you.

He groans.

That night, he gives himself to you completely because he belongs to you.

He remembers the whole thing so vividly.

On top of you, his eyes were lidded and his vision was blurred from the pleasure seeping throughout his body, sending chills down his spine, but he still refused to look away from you.

He remembers how beautiful you were underneath him, moaning his name and telling him you loved him.

With every thrust of his hips, his vision became more blurred- perhaps from the pleasure or because he was crying, vision clouded by tears because he’s so in love, and he never wants to lose you. The fire from the candles seems to burn more intensely, and when he reaches climax, the dreamy haze of you- your body and face- beneath the glow of the candles is all he sees.

While the fire from that night set his heart ablaze, it was also your very flames that charred his heart to a crisp, leaving Jungkook as nothing but an empty shell of his former self.

Exactly one week later, you died.

You, Jungkook, and Mingyu soared thousands of feet above Camp Half-Blood. The claws of your mechanical dragon Pulchra tousled with the physical form of the evil Earth mother herself: Gaia. You sat on your dragon, directing her to ascend higher and higher.

Mingyu, son of Jupiter, who was equipped with handy dandy flying skills, held Jungkook as he followed in pursuit of your dragon. As he darted through the clouds, Jungkook delivered fatal blows to the Earth mother.

Since Jungkook returned from Tartarus, he and Mingyu had been preparing a strategy to kill Gaia for good.

Gaia was the mother of the Earth, so taking away from her playing field and to the skies provided Jungkook and Mingyu with an advantage.

Mingyu, harnessing the power of the tempests, would conjure a storm, disorienting Gaia with lightning and wind. Jungkook would deliver the final blow with the spear of Ares- the same spear you retrieved from the Hephaestion, and the same spear Ares used to kill Alcyeoneus in the original Titan war.

But before Mingyu had the chance to summon a gust of wind, you used your flame manipulation to morph into a ball of fire to incinerate Gaia to death, engulfing Gaia and yourself in fire before blasting away like a meteor, leaving a trail of fiery residue in your wake.

That marked the final glimpse Jungkook saw of you.

Gaia’s death meant the successful completion of the quest, and Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter erupted into cheers at the demise of the evil Earth mother. Mingyu and Jungkook, on the other hand, were in shock as they remained stagnant in the atmosphere, watching the fiery residue simmer into nothingness.

Mingyu touches down softly on the earth, and Jungkook stumbles on the ground, falling to his knees. Campers from both Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter roar with excitement, welcoming both men with jubilation.

Jungkook is unable to move, palms and knees still planted onto the ground, grappling with the weight of what he just witnessed. The cheers seem distant, drowned out by the echo of your fiery departure. Jungkook, typically fierce and resilient, allows panic to infiltrate his being, and it isn’t until Rose pushes past the crowd and falls to her knees, her palms desperately shaking Jungkook’s shoulders. “Where’s Y/N? Jungkook?! Where the fuck is Y/N?”

Unable to conjure a response, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, desperately scanning Rosie’s face for a hint of jest- like Oh! Just kidding! Y/N is right here!- but she’s not kidding, her hardened features indicative that nothing could ever be more serious.

Jungkook's agony manifests in a heart-wrenching scream, tears streaming down his face as he bangs his fists into the ground.

Rosie’s face drops and she clasps a palm over her lips. At that moment, Taehyung, Mina, and Namjoon push through the crowd, frantically scanning through the waves of people for you. Taehyung’s face turns grim at the sight of Jungkook sobbing into the ground, and Namjoon starts crying.

The cheers from the campers dwindle into silence.

"Legions, to the West! Each camper is to conduct a thorough search for Y/N. Mobilize all pegasi, airplanes, and flying apparatuses immediately!" Mingyu roars, and the camps erupt into a panic, fleeing into different directions to prepare for a comprehensive search.

After 24 hours of hunting, you never appear.

Jennie, daughter of Hades, confirms your death, and Jungkook’s heart plummets to his stomach.

The atmosphere at Camp Half-Blood is heavy with sorrow as campers of both Roman and Greek gather at the foot of Half-Blood Hill.

In the center of a clearing, a makeshift altar is erected, adorned with offerings and mementos that speak of the adventures and camaraderie you share with the camp. Symbols are scattered for each quest you successfully complete. Copies of your favorite books litter the ground, along with your favorite foods, figurines of your favorite anime characters, and prototypes of weapons and trinkets you engineer.

Each camper is presented a red bead adorned with the emblem of a flame to celebrate the daughter of Hephaestus that shines so brightly. The bead is intended to be threaded onto the necklaces worn by all Camp Half-Blood members, each bead representing a year spent at camp.

“Today, we gather not only to mourn the loss of a brave demigod but to celebrate a hero whose legacy will forever echo through the boundaries of this camp,” Chiron’s voice resonates with a mix of sadness and reverence.

As Chiron speaks, campers take turns sharing anecdotes of your courage, weaving a tapestry of memories that paint a vivid impact you have on those around you.

In Mingyu's embrace, Rose weeps openly, her tears flowing freely as Mina recollects the adventures the three girls embarked upon the quest to defeat Gaia. Tales unfold—of mastering swordplay, battling sea monsters, concocting healing potions, and dedicating free time to handcraft makeup and serums.

Mingyu is next, clearing his throat before he awkwardly retells stories of meeting you for the first time. Mingyu, son of the Roman god Jupiter, appeared at Camp Half-Blood randomly after having his memory wiped.

Most approached Mingyu with hostility while you and Namjoon welcomed him with kindness, showing him around camp and becoming his friend. Mingyu shares the tale of your and his encounter with Hercules on an island before entering Greece—a confrontation that angered Hercules and ended with him buried under a mound of macaroni (a lengthy tale). Mingyu sheds a tear before closing off, and to be quite honest, he still bears the weight of witnessing your death and not intervening. It would haunt him forever.

Jaehyun, son of Apollo and your first kiss, is up next. In a heartfelt moment, he openly declares his love for you in front of everyone, and while he has every right to mourn and grieve in a way that works for him, the few that know about you and Jungkook shift in discomfort.

No one utters a word about your blooming relationship with Jungkook, and unless Jungkook explicitly tells them to, their lips remain sealed.

Love is a beautiful thing. At times, some find themselves so enamored with another that they become compelled to openly declare and proclaim their love to the whole world. Arguably, an intimate, more private love is even more ideal. Loving someone discreetly creates an intimate connection known only to someone and their love, completely unburdened by the need for external validation, and that’s the type of love Jungkook intends to share with you.

Once Jaehyun sits down, the echo of Taehyung’s stomp captures the attention of all the campers.

“Y/N’s not dead,” Taehyung claims, “and I know she’s not.”

Namjoon eyes his friend with daggers in his pupils, but Taehyung refuses to relent.

“I’ve been best friends with Y/N since we were 12,” he seethes, “I would sense it if she were dead- so respectfully, we need to stop moping around and we have to find her.”

“Tae,” Jennie, daughter of Hades, rises and places a soothing hand on his back, “I sensed her death. I’m sorry, but she’s gone.”

Taehyung shakes his head and brushes Jennie’s hand away. “I don’t give a fuck. Y/N is alive.”

In a rage of anger, Namjoon stands up and strikes Taehyung in the face. “Taehyung! Sit down. You’re tarnishing Y/N’s image and causing more pain for everyone here with your delusions. Y/N is in Elysium, and she’s at peace. Let her rest in peace.”

Chiron clears his throat and approaches the boys. “That’s true. She served well. Y/N has been on quests since she was 11. She was a diligent soldier. She deserves rest.”

Taehyung, clutching his face where Namjoon hit him, remains calm and shakes his head. “I would agree if she were actually dead, but she’s not. Isn’t that right Jungkook? Don’t you feel it?”

Jungkook, who has maintained a solemn silence until this moment, lifts his head from his hands. His gaze sweeps over the assembly of campers, then shifts to the shrine erected in your memory, finally locking eyes with Taehyung. Despite his swollen and puffy eyes, Jungkook stands, drawing his sword. "One hour. In sixty minutes, I’m leaving on a quest to find Y/N. Join me if you want or stay if you genuinely believe she's gone. We'll reconvene here. Pack your shit. This journey may take a while."

And you would think that a quest involving the strongest Roman and Greek demigods would lead to something, but it was like you never existed- every trace of you was gone.

The crew had a small glimmer of hope when they came across a piece of scrap metal from your mechanical dragon, Pulchra, drifting in the Atlantic ocean, but it led to nothing.

Jungkook scoured the entire world, yet you were gone, gone without a trace.

In the aftermath of the tragedy, Jungkook secludes himself, grappling with the guilt and pain of not being able to save you.

He leaves Camp Half-Blood for good, moving halfway across the world to Korea to live with his mother and pursue mortal education.

Typically, the whole mantra is Demigods have to stay in Camp Half-Blood to protect themselves from monsters!1!! But Jungkook, 20 years old and the strongest Greek demigod alive, doesn’t have any issue with that. Without a moment's hesitation, he ruthlessly eliminates any monster, adversary, or demon that dares to approach him.

Once, while Jungkook is hanging up his mother’s wet clothes on a clothing line, a hydra approaches the granny neighbors living below him. He doesn’t know what the mortals see - maybe a gigantic husky - but his granny neighbors living below him are scared nonetheless, screaming while the hydra squares them up.

Jungkook encountered a hydra on the quest of the Eternal Night when he was 14 - the key was to not cut off any of the hydra’s heads because it would only grow more. Instead, he hopped down a whole story and used his celestial bronze knife, the same one you crafted, to cut the hydra from its lower calf, causing the monster to crumble into dust.

Following that incident, his granny neighbors were likely even more frightened of him than the hydra, but he truly, truly could not bring himself to care.

He no longer even enjoys killing monsters; his fiery soul and obsession with combat faded into nothing but emptiness.

Jungkook is empty. So, so empty. He hates the gods and refuses to speak to his father, despite countless attempts from Ares to reach out to him.

Instead, he immerses himself in a hedonistic mortal lifestyle. His Harley-Davidson motorcycle is still a familiar sight, roaring through the streets to bars in Seoul, clubs in Itaewon, and occasionally cruising along the coastal beaches of Busan.

It takes him some time to fully embrace the hookup culture, but one drunken night at a bar leads him down the path of one-night-stands and sneaking away in the middle of the night. The first girl, whose name he can't recall, is attractive and makes the first move. With nothing to lose, and alcohol in his system, he goes to hers.

It's okay. It isn’t anything special, but he finds himself unable to finish, and on the journey home, a sense of self-disgust washes over him.

On a chilly December night, Jungkook finds himself at Cakeshop, a nightclub in Itaewon. Around winter, Mina, who is visiting family in Japan, decides to pay Jungkook a visit and accompanies him to the club for a few drinks and a night out.

Of course, Jungkook is delighted to see an old friend, no matter how horrible his condition was the last time he saw her. He takes her out to a few meals and rents out the neighboring flat for her.

Amidst the lively chatter and laughter, the duo enjoys a few drinks, exchanging stories and catching up on the time they spent apart. As the night unfolds, they explore the different sections of the club, from the energetic dance floor to the cozy lounges, where they sit continuing their conversation.

Mina tells Jungkook stories from Camp Jupiter — how she has risen through the ranks and been promoted as Praetor of the Roman legion, and Jungkook is genuinely happy to hear it.

Gasps resonate throughout the lounge, and when Mina and Jungkook turn their heads in the direction of the commotion, their faces drop. The most facially aesthetic woman he’s ever seen gracefully maneuvers through the crowd, prompting the masses to part like the Red Sea.

Her gaze fixes on Mina and Jungkook, and without any invitation, she assertively joins them in the lounge. Seating herself directly across from them, her presence transforms the lounge into an exclusive VIP area. Security personnel, clad in sleek black suits, swiftly cordon off the lounge from public access, blocking away any crazy men and women who try to leap at her.

“Hello Mina, dear. You look lovely tonight,” the woman says, pulling lip gloss from her clutch purse and reapplying it to her lips. Mina sneers at the woman, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care because the woman immediately redirects her attention to Jungkook.

Aphrodite.

“Jungkook, dear, I need to talk to you,” she states, voice becoming rigidly serious.

Jungkook and Mina exchange looks, the disdain in her eyes appearing like she wants to leave and Jungkook nearly obliges because he certainly isn’t the biggest fan of the goddess either.

“You need to talk to your father,” she solicits, not even having the decency to look at Jungkook while she addresses him, her eyes focused on the compact mirror in her manicured hands.

Aphrodite was arguably one of the cruelest goddesses, even more so than Jungkook's father, Ares. Love and war work in tandem, but love is the subtle dagger concealed in a silk glove. Aphrodite's influence wasn't just about the sweet intoxication of romance; it was a weapon, a potent brew of desire that she skillfully wielded to manipulate the hearts of both gods and mortals.

And she won. Jungkook let Aphrodite win because he was so tired, so defeated.She allowed Jungkook to be with his love for three mere weeks before ripping her from him in the most horrific way.

“Respectfully, fuck you.” Jungkook stands, preparing to leave when a piercing glare from Aphrodite halts him in his tracks, instantly enveloping the entire room in an eerie stillness, stopping time.

“Jungkook, dear,” she repeats, her voice more menacing, "You're well aware of the consequences when demigods show disrespect to gods. It weakens us, and the delicate balance of the world hangs in jeopardy. Considering that your father, a god, is desperately trying to connect with you, you currently hold a position of advantage. I recommend you take a seat and engage in a conversation before that advantage slips away."

Jungkook grimaces, exchanging worried glances with Mina before sitting down and placing his palms on the table.

“What is it?”

“Your father wants to speak with you,” she begins, “and he’s heartbroken that you won’t give him the chance for a conversation. I can’t deal with a heartbroken boyfriend, it’s affecting our relationship.”

“Mom, that’s selfish,” Mina intervenes, “Jungkook’s been through enough, and you came all the way here just for that?”

Aphrodite’s features soften, and she looks at her daughter sadly. “That’s not all. Jungkook needs to return to Camp Half-Blood,” she adds, to which Jungkook shakes his head.

“I’ll talk to Ares, but I’m not ready to return- not yet,” he grimaces.

“Jungkook,” Aphrodite places a palm on top of Jungkook’s, “I understand how you feel. I truly do. You loved Y/N, and the way you felt for her- it was of the utmost honor. But Jungkook, your friends need you. Though Gaia is deceased, the battle isn’t over. Remnants of her children remain, and Flame Warden has overtaken my husband Hephaestus’s forge in Mount Olympus.”

Hephaestus.

Jungkook inwardly recoils at the mention of your father, Hephaestus, and he cringes that Aphrodite is claiming Hephaestus as her husband, even after her ongoing affair with Jungkook’s own father.

“Hephaestus,” Jungkook says, “Does he- does he even care that Y/N is dead?” Jungkook whispers, eyes reflecting despondency.

Aphrodite softens infinitely. “Of course he does, sweetie. As you're aware, it goes beyond the cosmic structure for gods to nurture connections with their demigod offspring. Hephaestus bears numerous regrets, and even rescuing Y/N was beyond his capacity. His disheartenment led to the infiltration of his ember forge- he hasn’t been the same since Y/N died.”

Jungkook glowers at that, pulling his hand from Aphrodite’s. “So the forge you’re referring to- is it the same forge where Celestial Bronze is created?”

Aphrodite nods. “Now that the Ember Forge has been breached, the Hermes Express faces a disruption in delivering celestial bronze to Camp Half-Blood and the Cyclops' forges. The demigods at Camp Half-Blood are currently unable to craft weapons. As we enter the Golden Era of Demigods, celestial bronze is crucial for arming ourselves and defending against the threat of monsters. As you're aware, the collaboration of a god and a demigod is essential to defeating a giant. Jungkook, your assistance is paramount; we need you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow. “The Golden Era of Demigods?”

Aphrodite acknowledges with a nod. "Your generation, my daughter Mina, and your companions are on the brink of their 20s. In Greek and Roman history, this is an extraordinary development. Typically, demigods meet their fate in their teens, yet now, the significant strength of demigods in their 20s is unprecedented. Jungkook, we stand at a unique opportunity to eradicate the menace of monsters once and for all."

Jungkook looks down, his lip caught between his teeth. "You vowed to change your ways. The gods made promises to recognize their children and to at least talk to them," Jungkook seethes, frustration evident. "Mina’s right here, and barely a word has been spoken to her. Progress won't be made unless the gods acknowledge and take responsibility for their shortcomings."

Aphrodite frowns, “Mina doesn’t want to talk to me! Isn’t it good parenting to leave your teenage daughter alone? The gods are trying their best, Jungkook. Your father is trying his best.”

Mina places a soothing hand over Jungkook’s fist.

“Jungkook, you should go,” she expresses gently, “The Ember forge…” she trails off, “Y/N would want you to do this. Her siblings in the Hephaestus cabin need the celestial bronze. Do it for her.”

Her words plunge Jungkook into a whirlwind of memories: the moments you spent forging his Celestial Bronze knife, the way he annoyed you to hide his colossal crush on you, and how he has carried that same Celestial Bronze knife ever since.

Aphrodite nods in agreement. “Do it for Y/N-”

Jungkook slams his fists on the table. “Don’t speak of her.”

Jungkook knows very well that Aphrodite could have obliterated him on the spot, but she showed mercy by smiling and nodding at Jungkook.

“Fuck it. I’m doing it. Fuck it,” Jungkook murmurs, much to Aphrodite’s delight and Mina’s satisfaction.

The quest now dubbed the Quest of the Ember Forge was triumphant, and it marked the beginning of Jungkook’s return to Camp Half-Blood.

He reimmersed himself in the camaraderie of camp life, and now that he and his friends were of age, they spent hours in the Big House drinking, reveling in their newfound adulthood.

It brought Jungkook so much joy to see Namjoon loosen up, laughing at the stupidest jokes Taehyung made while they downed shots of soju and played Mythomagic, an old card game from their childhood.

The laughter echoed through the room, mingling with the spirited discussions about the recent quest, reminiscences of past adventures, and plans for the future. They toasted to their victories and shared stories of their individual journeys during the time apart.

Even Chiron, the wise centaur, couldn't resist joining in the festivities, regaling them with tales of ancient mythology and imparting wisdom in his own humorous way.

The once-burdened weight on Jungkook's shoulders lifted, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose and connection.

For the first time in two years, Jungkook felt at peace, at home, and disallowed the plague of guilt to overwhelm him as he laughed with his friends.

Jungkook resumes sword fighting in the dueling ground, becoming the sword fighting teacher for all the cabins.

Out of all the campers, there is one kid he absolutely adores: a 13-year-old Jungwon, another sibling of Jungkook’s.

Jungkook finds himself observing Jungwon from a distance, the spark in his eyes reminiscent of a younger Jungkook. Soot covers the younger boy's face, and sweat drips from his armor like he’s been out there for hours.

“Kid!” Jungkook approaches, unsheathing his sword. He tilts his head and grins. “Care for a duel?”

Jungwon grins, raising his brows before licking his lips. If anything, Jungwon 100% emits the fiery, combat-crazed aura Jungkook is renowned for. There is no doubt in Jungkook’s mind that this kid is going to be a beast.

The dueling ground buzzes with anticipation as other campers gather to watch the showdown between the seasoned warrior and his spirited protégé. Jungkook and Jungwon circle each other, their swords catching glints of sunlight.

With a sudden burst of energy, Jungkook lunges forward, his movements swift and precise. Jungwon, fueled by determination, meets each strike with resilience beyond his years.

In a final, calculated move, Jungkook disarms Jungwon, ending the duel with a victorious flourish. The onlookers erupt into cheers, acknowledging the mastery of their esteemed sword-fighting teacher.

Jungkook stalks over to Jungwon and helps him up before tousling his hair. “They gotta send you on a quest soon. You’re more than ready.”

Jungwon’s eyes sparkle as he addresses Jungkook. “Seriously? Can you put in a good word for me to Chiron?”

Jungkook nods, but a sudden realization overtakes him.

He doesn’t want to send Jungwon on a quest.

Jungkook's not keen on the idea of sending Jungwon on a quest, at all. Quests are rough, life-altering, and there's a chance Jungwon might not make it back in one piece. The thought of putting his younger sibling through all that hardship and potential danger sews seeds of peril into his consciousness.

On one side, there's a deep desire to shield his younger brother from harm - no way in hell would he let any monsters or giants destroy the innocent twinkle in his eyes. On the other hand, he understands that quests are an inevitable part of a demigod’s journey - it’s not like he wants Jungwon to get soft.

While Jungkook is frozen at that dawning realization, he follows Jungwon’s train of vision to a familiar face in the distance.

It's Isabella, a daughter of Hephaestus, casually strolling with her friends near the dueling arena.

He doesn’t miss the twinkle in Jungwon’s eyes and the blush flushing his cheeks as he turns his head to keep his eyes on Isabella.

Jungkook throws up that night.

One year later, Jungkook visits Mina, Rose, and Mingyu at Camp Jupiter to aid the Roman legion with dueling lessons.

There, a budding romance blooms with a descendant of Apollo, Sofia.

It’s not like Jungkook means for it to happen; he had sworn off love for the rest of his life. Yet, he couldn't ignore the way Sofia's eyes lingered on him. And when she found her way into his hotel room at night, Jungkook couldn't bring himself to ask her to leave.

After that trip, Sofia visits Jungkook at Camp Half-Blood.

Sofia is now Jungkook’s girlfriend and he feels content.

Night after night, Jungkook pays a visit to the shrine dedicated to you, a ritual of remembrance and honor. Sofia, understanding and respecting his feelings, never presses him to share the details of his relationship with you.

Over time, as Jungkook finds solace in their growing connection, he starts bringing Sofia to join him in leaving offerings at your shrine. In those moments, a sense of closure and the gentle warmth of moving forward envelops Jungkook's heart. It’s time to move forward.

That is, until he runs into you.

#demigod!jungkook #demigod!bts #camp half blood au #demigod au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #heroes of olympus au #pjo au #percy jackson fanfiction #bts fanfic #demigod!enhypen

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gatitties · 3 months

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HELLO

Can I request an Oneshot of One Piece with a marine teen reader (14 y.o) who is the daughter of Red Hair Shanks after a one-night stand? She was taken in by Garp when she was 11 when her mom didn't wanna take care of her anymore cuz the mom was absent the rest of the reader's life and Garp was the grumpy granddad and trained her into a marine..like 6 feet 4 muscular girl (and everyone is questioning what the hell did Garp feed her with. Then Shanks comes to visit his bio daughter at the hospital after the reader saved Ace from being killed by Akaniu (that one scene where Ace saved Luffy when he leaped in the way to shield his brother from Akainu as the admiral struck cuz she felt bad and went against rules) by pushing both of them away and burning her a bit and now she has huge burn scar in her left side of the body and half her hair is gone and has to add margarine to heal her scar just for a bit and then Garp ordered her that she should not get up the bed until she is fully recovered. Shanks being the dad he is tries to have a convo and help her stand up when the doctors order her to do some exercise to get her body moving again for example:

-move your fingers a bit

-try to stand up

-when you suicide try to take a few steps

-and more margarine when you go to sleep

-do not sleep on your left side cuz will cause your skin a damage

The reader is confused after receiving affection from her own dad, cuz she doesn't know how to receive it back and is very insecure about it Shanks on the other hand doesn't bother at all and comfronts her.

(Also Ace and Luffy come to visit her more often and thank her for saving them and having a small sibling relationship alongside Sabo and Uta)

and the reader is trying her hardest not to cry and Garp is jealous

(sorry if this is long I'm just trying to make it understandable..have a nice day/night!!)

─ Shanks x daughter!reader (Platonic)

─ Summary: Your bravery helps you save a person unfairly judged, this whole incident generates a drastic change in your pace of life where it seems that your father is ready to show himself.

─ Warnings: None

You stretched your sore body, letting out a soft moan due to your recent injury, weeks had passed and you still had a hard time moving, but looking back, the pain wasn't that much in comparison to your actions, not being ashamed of your actions against everythingn that you had learned at the marine academy, you were lucky that they considered your actions something of age, since you were young, they let it go with a couple of punishments, they lowered your rank and prohibited you from being on duty for the two following years, but you didn't care much.

Garp was not so happy with that decision, but he couldn't scold you when you had saved his grandson from certain death, he was glad to have welcomed you that day, he couldn't feel anything but proud to see that despite having been strictly instructed to follow established order and law, you had your own thoughts and values.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

If it weren't for the fact that you were hurt badly, Garp probably would have hit you for finding you pacing around the room, you grimaced as you tried to smile, a little afraid of his overwhelming concern.

"The doctors told me that I couldn't stop walking, even if it was difficult, I can't stop moving while I recover, it's not like I was running a marathon tho."

He mumbled a few curses, making you return to the bed, now beginning your arm stretches, which were more painful due to the burn being on the upper part of your body.

"Why are you here? I thought you would come to visit tomorrow."

"Yes, but I have decided to go ahead to give you a surprise" all your attention went to the word 'surprise' with enthusiasm, being the teenager that you were, of course you were more than captivated by whatever the old man had for you "Ta-dah!"

He took a pair of wigs out of a bag, your expression fell slightly since you expected something else, but that didn't take away your enthusiasm, the attack that Akainu made on Ace in that battle left more wounds than you thought, and the fire spread faster than you thought, you lost some hair and sometimes you felt helpless without hair covering some parts of your face.

"Thank you… you didn't have to do it, and I could have waited until tomorrow anyway, why the rush?"

Now it was Garp's turn to sweat as he looked at you, he didn't want to admit it, but since Shanks saved you in battle and visited you more constantly, he felt a little jealous, although your father was unaware of your existence until relatively recently, proposing to take care of you and be present in your life from now on, it was Garp who raised and guided you all these years, plus he preferred not to meet Shanks at this time.

You were just confused, you always thought that your father had simply abandoned you, that he didn't want to know anything about your existence like your mother, and suddenly he is by your side showering you with affection and gifts. You took cautious steps with all that sudden affection, Garp wasn't a bad tutor, but his way of showing love was sometimes… brutal, your father's soft hugs were definitely something better than grandfather's crushing ones.

"Hey hey, grandpa is here too, Hello, Hello! We brought a lot of food to help you recover faster."

"Idiot, people don't have the same metabolism as you, besides…" Ace, who was entering through the door with Luffy, took the banana that was for you out of his hand, he was trying to devour it "What's the point of bringing food for someone if you are going to eat it?!"

"What are you two doing here? You are in one of the marine hospitals."

"We are not just two, look good old man!"

Sabo smiled at his grandfather, who remained silent for a few minutes, before bursting out with a furious scream, even though Garp was not going to tell on them, he couldn't help but give them one of his love fists, it had been a long time since he had seen the three gathered in the same place. You laughed at the scene, you never saw Ace, Luffy or Sabo, you only knew anecdotes that Garp shared with you, but you definitely didn't regret having saved Ace, being judged for being the son of the pirate king was absurd, it's not like he had chosen it, you felt even better when you found out that you were the daughter of the infamous yonko Shanks, since you would have probably been put on the gallows if you weren't part of the marines for the same reason as Ace.

The silent room soon filled with life once the trio entered, breaking into the peaceful time Garp wanted to spend with you, as if the commotion of his three grandchildren crammed into your bed while ranting about their adventures wasn't enough, the door opened suddenly, revealing the person who was missing to spill the old man's glass of patience.

"Looks like I'm a little late, sorry, I had to knock out some marines to get in."

The first thing he did was push the three idiots away from your bed, then he left the bouquet of flowers that he brought to decorate your sad room and finally he kissed your forehead as a greeting, not used to this gesture you simply looked down, squeezing your blanket that covered your legs.

"How are you feeling? Are you taking your medication? Have you put the cream on the burn? Have you done your daily stretches?"

You felt even more dizzy when he bombarded you with questions than when you were talking to the other three idiots even though they were much louder, you nodded silently, smiling slightly at him, he returned the gesture with a wider smile, although it was quickly wiped away when Luffy attacked him, climbing onto his back like a monkey while laughing almost causing them both to fall to the ground.

As much as you wanted to join their little fight, which Ace and Sabo joined in on, with your current state you would have to hold back just watching while Garp tried to silence them or he would have to kick them all out of here, if it could happen he would grow more gray hairs.

You felt warm watching everyone interact, in the short time you had spent with them, you managed to create a great bond, even with Uta, who couldn't be present most of the time but who you also considered part of the family.

Things calmed down a couple of hours later, leaving only the two adults and you in a pleasant silence after all the commotion those three had caused, it was time to leave, but before, Shanks approached you, holding your hand, making small circles with his thumb on your skin.

"I know this is a bit sudden and that maybe you don't trust me… but would you like to travel with me, discovering new horizons?"

Your eyes shone with excitement when you heard him, your heart warmed, you didn't dislike the job as a marine, but an opportunity like this… it would make you feel much freer than in headquarters, it would make you feel like you didn't need to worry about so many things at such a young age.

"Don't put stupid ideas in your daughter's head! She's a good marine and she's just a teenager, she'll go far when she's a woman!"

"Woah, calm down old man, she can choose for herself, besides, I'm not asking her to be a pirate, I have to start taking care of my responsibilities as a father and I won't be able to do it if she stays here."

"You know very well that she will sentence her destiny once they see her traveling with you, her entire future as a marine…"

Garp fumed from his ears, feeling how all the work and effort he had put into educating you and guiding you on the right path was crumbling before his eyes. Shanks only stuck out his tongue in a mocking manner, making a mark of irritation appear on Garp's forehead.

"Like I said, she chooses."

The two looked at you with different emotions reflected in their eyes, although they could already imagine what you were going to respond after seeing your look of determination and enthusiasm worthy of a child receiving Christmas gifts, without being able to hold back, you sealed a large part of your future with your decision, but you didn't care much if you were a pirate or a marine as long as you kept your beloved and unexpected family.

#op #one piece #one piece x reader #request #reader insert #platonic reader #daughter reader #marine reader #teen reader #one piece x platonic reader #shanks x platonic reader #sfw #fem reader #one piece x marine reader #one piece x teen reader

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quasi-normalcy · 8 months

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Star Trek series rated by horniness (as rated by me, an asexual, so you know its objective):

Star Trek: The Original Series - what is there to say for the series that invented slashfic, fuck-or-die, and Thiess's theory of titillation in costuming? The universe is full of greased-up pecs and scantily clad women wondering what is this thing you call...love? It's easier to mention the episodes that *aren't* horny. 10/10, for how could it be otherwise?

Star Trek: The Animated Series - It's a Saturday morning cartoon series from the 70s, and yet... 3/10, for the surprising number of scantily clad muscular guys

Star Trek: The Next Generation - Oh, we *start* quite horny; Roddenberry is keen to let us know that the android has a penis in the second episode; but then Roddenberry dies, and by the final season even Troi is wearing a sensible duty uniform. 6/10 for Will Riker, though

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - We've got Quark's, where the women are scantily clad, the holosuites are for fucking, and the waiters give themselves ear infections from doing too much oo-mox on themselves. We've got Jadzia Dax, who has three hundred years worth of sexcapades in two genders and will tell you about them at the drop of a hat. We've got Bashir and his sad blue balls for the first two seasons. We've got Klingons breaking each other's clavicles to initiate coitus. And we've got an enemy power led by the perpetual mind-melting gangbang that canonically is the Great Link. 9/10

Star Trek: Voyager - Weirdly conservative in its sexual politics. I mean, it goes out of its way to stick poor Jeri Ryan in that body condom, and there's a whole episode about space whales wanting to fuck the ship, and another one about Janeway wanting to fuck an Irishman, and *two* episodes about Pon Farr...actually, you know what? 6/10.

Star Trek: Enterprise - You know what, let me tell you about this series; this series is like a 14-year-old asexual boy boasting about his supposed sexual conquests in the hopes that it will endear him to the cool kids. It doesn't work; there's nothing genuine about it and everyone knows it; no matter how many innuendos he throws in, it's clear that there's no joy in it for him and he'd be happier if he could just go off and read comic books. Secretly, he wishes his friends still wanted to play with action figures. -1/10

Star Trek: Discovery - The show presents us with wall-to-wall gays who just...never seem to shtup each other. Like, I of all people know that sex doesn't define queerness, but...really? I guess maybe they're afraid of being less than wholesome? Anyways, 2/10 for that time that the Emperor went off to fuck a couple of Orions in the middle of a dangerous secret mission on the Klingon homeworld.

Star Trek: Picard - A series so sexless that it can't even show its main canonical couple enjoying each other's company for more than 5 seconds each season. And yet the chaste Jurati/Borg Queen pairing manages to be the hottest thing ever in the history of fiction. Anyway, I guess they technically had Agnes sleep with Rios in the first season, so 1/10.

Star Trek: Lower Decks - Oooh boy, we're at the heavy hitter now, my god. Completely, unashamedly horny. Gene Roddenberry *wishes* he could have done that orgy scene that people on Twitter were freaking out about. 11/10

Star Trek: Prodigy- They're *kids*. 0/10

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds - Not really a lot, surprisingly given their TOS pastiche. Still, we get some stuff with Spock. 3/10.

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sunflowersandsapphires · 4 months

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Tis the Damn Season

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: Based on a request from the lovely @dorothleah, Matt and his childhood best friend have a realization at Christmastime.

warnings: smut adjacent times (it’s just spicy towards the end, nothing graphic), descriptions of family holidays (they’re positive), Christmas specific, swearing

A/n: ahhhhh this one was so difficult to write—I really hope I did the prompt justice. (Also, this is set early on in S1 but let’s just pretend that all the bombing stuff didn’t happen bc that would definitely overshadow Matt’s holidays. Plus Mrs. Cardenas was an Angel so she is still alive and living her best life somewhere outside of this piece because I said so.)

w/c: ~4k

Breathing deeply, you couldn’t help but smile as the bitter cold wind swirled around you. Despite the extreme temperatures, winter in New York was beautiful. Layers of silver clouds drifted through the city, muting the constant stream of artificial light into something less aggressive, more ethereal. The thin layer of snow covering every exposed surface created a gorgeous blank slate of sorts, like an untouched page in a child’s coloring book. Monotone and full of possibilities. It was a sight you missed dearly, so much so that your heart flipped every year when you stepped out of the airport and back into the city you were raised in.

California was beautiful too, of course–not that you’d gotten to see much of it between your 8 years of post-secondary school and 2.5 years of residency so far. Even summer breaks had been spent studying or interning, rather than visiting the gorgeous beaches or tourist attractions across the state. When you found yourself swamped with work and longing for a break, you never dreamed of California, though. Only of New York.

Which is why the winter holidays were so important to you now. This was the only opportunity you had to visit family, to visit Matt. Most years, you spent about a week with your family for Christmas and spent a few wonderful evenings with your beloved childhood-best-friend-turned-charitable-defense-attorney, but this year was unique.

After encouraging your parents to take a much needed vacation, you’d mentioned to Matt that you were struggling to find a hotel to house you for the holidays. Charming and protective man that he was, he was appalled that you hadn’t asked to stay with him instead–arguing passionately with you until you agreed to stay at his loft for a couple days rather than spend the holidays alone.

Which led you on the snow-laced journey from the baggage claim to Matt’s front door, which you studied apprehensively, hand frozen in a fist that hadn’t yet knocked. The fluttering in your stomach was inevitable, your nerves always acted up when you saw Matt, but it was especially intense when your mind was occupied with the knowledge that you’d be surrounded by him and his things for a weekend.

Blowing out a breath, you let your eyes fall shut as you knocked rapidly on the door, the percussive sound echoing the pulsing in your ears. Footsteps padded down the hallway towards you, halting at the door as it slowly creaked open.

“Hi Matty,” Your voice was quiet, your cheeks blooming with warmth as he grinned at you. His beautiful smile hadn’t changed at all, still revealing the wit and mischief of the 14 year old you’d met all those years ago at St. George College Prep.

His signature red glasses twinkled with the reflection of the flickering hallway lights. “Long time, no see, sweetheart.”

As the familiar joke vaporized your anxiety, you dove into his open arms with a squeal. He was as warm and muscular as ever, his arms tightening around you as if waiting for you to dissolve. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, basking in the comfort of his embrace and letting it melt a year of stress away.

While you were enjoying the first hug you’d received in too long, Matt remained almost rigid beneath your touch–his brain counting every second and wondering where the line would need to be drawn. He could have stayed in your grasp all day, but that wasn’t what “friends” did, right? Inhaling deeply, he pulled away from you.

“C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you inside and warmed up.” Taking your hand, Matt guided you down the hallway and into his apartment, the sight of which made you gasp.

Strings of multicolored lights were strung around the perimeter, wrapped around every available surface in a festive tangle. A small, but otherwise impressive, fir tree stood against the massive paneled windows, smattered with glittering ornaments and candy canes.

The air suddenly felt forced out of your lungs, your breath staggering like a newborn foal as you surveyed every inch of the apartment. When your parents had booked their holiday cruise, you’d been slightly devastated–which wasn’t fair of you, since you’d encouraged them to get away for the month, but that didn’t stop your heart from aching at the thought of the traditions you’d miss. Christmas was your parents’ favorite holiday, and they went all out each year–decorating the house with gorgeous poinsettias and tinsel, buying the largest tree they could find at the local farm, stringing lights around the entire house. The festive beauty of your family home was one of your favorite sights, and you weren’t ready for the absence of decor.

But the absence never came, because you had Matt, the most amazing best friend a girl could ask for. The man who knew you inside out, and had anticipated your reaction to skipping a family Christmas, taking it upon himself to make up for their departure.

Biting your lips as tears threatened to fall, you let Matt enfold you in another hug, a drop of moisture rolling down your cheek when his lips pressed against your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“You did all this for me? Matt, I–” Withdrawing from the shelter of his arms, you strode around the apartment, running your fingers along the wires Matt had painstakingly decked his apartment with.

“Before you get too grateful, you should know that Foggy helped.” Matt laughed, rocking from foot to foot as he waited for you to take it all in.

Giggling at his glowing blush, you nodded, “Well, you both did an amazing job. Ugh, I could kiss you right now!”

The words slipped out of your mouth without a thought, but they froze Matt in place.

Your relationship with him was unlike any of the other friendships he held. There was a flicker of something deeper–a tense heat simmering underneath every touch, a magnetism that simultaneously drew you together and forced you apart.

After knowing you for 15 years, Matt could read you as if you were composed of braille. Every inhale, every pulse of your heart, every flutter of arousal from you crafted a story of love that he was terrified of losing. Neither of you could handle the stress of a long distance relationship. So, he held you close while keeping you at arm’s length.

Or, at least, he had. The urge to abandon all logic and act on his wildest desires was growing stronger by the minute. Treading over to where you stood, admiring the Christmas tree, Matt encircled your waist with his arms, tilting his nose against your temple.

“I missed you.” He murmured against your cheek.

“I missed you too, handsome. So much.” You leaned backwards into Matt’s firm chest, tangling your fingers with his.

Swaying slightly as he held you, Matt stayed silent, allowing you to soak up every ounce of joy from each tiny detail of the holiday ambiance he had painstakingly put together. Sure, it had been a chore, but it was absolutely worth it for the skip of your heart beat, the stutter of your breath as you held back happy tears. He’d do anything to give you the Christmas you deserved, and that included enlisting Foggy as his eyes for a week of decorating.

Because he was human, and his patience could only be strained so much, he eventually pressed a kiss to your head and spun you to face him. “Ok, I think it’s about time for me to pull my responsible host card and remind you that you need to eat.”

Laughing at his smirk, you nodded eagerly. “You’re right, I’m starving.”

“Really? I had no idea.” Matt gasped in feigned surprise, sparking another round of giggles from you.

“Shut up, asshole. I was admiring your hard work! Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?” You shoved at Matt’s chest fondly.

“You’re right, I apologize,” Matt chuckled with you, rocking backwards after your playful push. “Have a taste for anything in particular?”

“Anywhere you want to take me, Matty.” You grinned.

_____________________________________________________________________

Nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk as you laughed brightly, you were launched into another set of giggles as Matt caught you by the elbow. Comfortably full after dining at Matt’s new favorite Thai place, the two of you ambled around the city catching up on the last year.

“Christ, you’re going to break something.” Matt sighed, but he was beaming at you. “That would honestly serve you right, though, after laughing at my pain.”

“I’m sorry Matty, but the idea of you wearing one of those bikini body shirts is amazing. Foggy is a pranking genius!” You crooned, jealous that you hadn’t been there to witness the practical joke.

“This from the woman who tricked me ruthlessly every April Fool’s Day.” Matt shook his head, biting back a grin as his mind flooded with memories from your shared childhood.

“Oh please, toothpaste oreos and salted coffee is child’s play, Murdock.” You jested, letting your joined arms grow taut as you leaned towards an enticing display in the window of a store you were passing.

“Hmm, well I’ll continue waiting for an apology then.” Matt turned his nose into the air teasingly.

“Should I buy you another Christmas gift to make up for the torture I put you through?” Without waiting for a response, you entered the doorway of the quiet little shop you’d been admiring, drawing Matt up the steps after you.

Carefully studying the rows of vibrantly colored trinkets, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace as you wandered the store. You let your mind wander as you ran your fingers along the rack of knit sweaters you were ogling. Somewhere in the rush to look through the myriad of options, you’d dropped Matt’s hand. Swiveling your head over your shoulder, your heart jumped when you didn’t see Matt behind you.

Before you had a chance to panic, a calloused hand tangled with yours, tucking you back into your friend’s warm side.

“God, Matty, I thought I lost you!”

“Don’t fret, sweetheart, I’ll always find you.” Matt murmured, his voice steady with truth as he kissed your temple.

Leaning into his touch, your heart twirled at the sentiment, emotions welling up in your throat. Squeezing Matt’s hand, you coughed around the lump in your esophagus, eyes once again roaming the row of sweaters. “Did you want to get out of here? You said we were meeting your friends tonight, right?”

“Yes,” Matt answered, a bit hastily given that he was still trying to decipher your reaction to his words. “Uh, yah, we aren’t too far from Josie’s.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t tell me we’re meeting at Josie’s! Fuck, I’m glad the place hasn’t been condemned after all these years.”

“Foggy and I have done our due diligence. The health department must have our pictures taped over dart boards by now.”

“My two favorite menaces to society,” You laughed. “I’m embarrassed to admit that you may have to lead me there. My navigation of the city is a bit rusty this year.”

“You’ve been away too long.” Matt tutted in disapproval. “Far too long.”

You grew silent beside him, your fingers twitching in his hold. “I know, Matty.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean—“ He started but you interrupted.

“Oh, I know you didn’t. And I miss you too.” Matt withheld from turning to you in surprise before you corrected your statement. “I mean, I miss you and my family and the city, you know? I love California, it’s just not the same.”

Cursing yourself for fumbling over your words instead of just admitting to Matt how much you wanted to stay here with him, you tugged at your lower lip with your teeth to keep from rambling any further. Twin blooms of heat pricked across your cheeks, your eyes falling shut with regret and longing.

Matt bumped your hip with his. “Hey, don’t go quiet on me. We still have more catching up to do.”

The corner of your mouth twitched into a small smile. “Oh yah?”

“Of course! I haven’t even told you about the kitchen fire that Foggy set at Landman and Zach in the spring.”

Snorting in disbelief, you shook your head. “How on earth did you two not get fired?”

“He blamed it on a partner.” Matt grinned, making you chuckle.

The walk to Josie’s was short and filled with pleasant conversation, despite the brief hiccup. When you finally reached the familiar dive bar, you inhaled deeply, smiling at the sour odor of stale beer and tobacco.

Inside, the sticky floors and dim lighting immediately transported you back to the first time Matt brought you here, begging you to come with him to the “Jewel of Hell’s Kitchen”. Sure, it was more cubic zirconia than a diamond in the rough, but you understood why Matt loved it. The atmosphere was unmistakably familiar. No bells and whistles, just cheap beer and good company.

“This way,” Matt lead you further into the establishment, waving at Foggy and a gorgeous blonde woman who were seated near the windows.

Foggy leapt up to tackle you in a hug as soon as you were within hugging distance, crushing your lungs before you could laugh. “God, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Way to rub it in, bud.” Matt scoffed, smirking when his business partner gave an exaggerated eye roll.

“You’ve seriously got to teach me how to keep him in line.” Foggy sighed, scowling at the dark-haired man.

“You think I know how to do that?” You chuckled incredulously. “I’m not sure that’s possible without divine intervention.”

“C’mon, you’re practically the Matt-tamer.” Foggy cajoled, spinning around to face the table. “Karen, Matt-tamer. Matt-tamer, meet our lovely receptionist, Karen Page.”

Laughing as Foggy gestures towards the seated woman, you gave her your real name.

Karen smiled brightly, reaching her hand out for you to shake.

“You know, I could’ve introduced her myself. She is my friend, after all.” Matt pouted and you grinned, placing a hand on his arm.

“We all know you would have done a great job introducing me, Matty.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to Foggy.

“Um, are we not going to comment on the fact that I’m apparently not allowed to be friends with you?” Foggy asked, taking his seat beside Karen again.

“I didn’t say that!” Matt argued, sliding into the other side of the booth.

As Matt and Foggy bickered, you and Karen exchanged a knowing smile before you headed to the bar.

Waving as you spotted Josie’s stony face, you couldn’t help but smile when she rounded the bar to give you a one-armed hug. “Hey, kid. We’ve missed ya around here.”

“So I’ve heard,” You chuckled. “Can I get a couple of beers?”

“Your boyfriend letting you pay for the drinks?” Josie shook her head in distaste.

Almost dropping the two beers she’d passed you, your mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh, uh…”

“C’mon, don’t tell me he hasn’t made a move yet. Poor kid acts like ya hung the moon.”

Chuckling awkwardly, you shrugged. “We’re just friends, Josie.”

“Yah, yah. Heard that one before.” Josie sighed, shooing you back to the table.

Trying to refocus after her comment, you plastered a smile back on your face and took your seat next to Matt, handing him his beer.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” He leaned against you and your skin burned. You could practically hear Josie raising her eyebrows from across the bar.

“You ok?” Matt asked, tilting his head towards you. “Did Josie snap at you or something?”

“You have to cut her some slack, she’s working hard to keep this place afloat.” Foggy frowned in sympathy.

“Oh no, nothing like that, she just caught me off guard is all.” You reassured, willing your body to relax into Matt’s hold.

“How so?” Karen asked with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, er, she asked me if…” Looking at Matt hesitantly, you let the words tumble out before you could fib. “She was wondering if Matt and I were dating.”

“What did you say?” Matt murmured.

“I told her the truth. Though, I wonder if I should’ve said we were, that was always easier.” You sighed, shifting in your seat uncomfortably.

“Always?” Karen asked, eyebrows shooting skyward.

“When we were kids, people always assumed we were dating. Eventually, it was easier to say yes than explain anything.” Matt explained with a shrug.

Foggy smiled, “Ah, so this has nothing to do with the fact that you both act like you’re dating for a weekend every year?”

You and Matt immediately grew defensive, spitting out two remarks at the same time.

“We do not—“

“Are you kidding me—“

But the realization of how close you were sitting to Matt made you pause. The man in question seemed to have the same epiphany because you both jumped apart with a huff.

Foggy and Karen exchanged a glance before nodding. Clapping his hands together, Foggy changed the subject.

“So…how’s California treating our favorite medical student?”

————————————-

Sitting on the worn leather couch in Matt’s living room, you blinked sleepily, the bright LED string lights coming back into focus as you reopened your eyes. You’d hoped that the beautifully decorated tree would draw you out of your thought spiral, but it was only fueling your rapid fire thoughts. Fidgeting with the fabric of the cushion you were sitting on, you couldn’t help but think of Foggy and Josie’s parallel accusations.

You and Matt were close, that was true, but you didn’t “act like you were dating”…did you? Sure, you were pretty much constantly touching each other, and you had nicknames for each other, but that was all platonic.

Or was that just what you’d told yourself? To let yourself sign off on the emotional turmoil you experienced every year when you had to leave the man that you loved.

Fuck. You loved Matt.

“What are you thinking about?” Matt’s voice startled you, your body jumping a few inches off the couch. Handing you the mug of hot chocolate he’d prepared for you, Matt took a seat next to you, his brow folding in concern.

“Oh, uh, nothing, Matty.” You lied unconvincingly.

With a snort, Matt shuffled closer, placing a hand on your knee. “You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

“Did it…bother you? What Foggy said, about us?” You asked timidly, biting your lip when his hand stilled on your leg.

“Did it bother you?” He parrots, his voice uncharacteristically small.

Laughing despite the thick tension clouding around you, you shoved your shoulder against his. “I asked you first, Murdock.”

“Fair enough.” Matt chuckled nervously, exhaling quickly before answering, “No. It didn’t bother me.”

“Permission to ask you a follow up question?” It was risky to ask for further clarification before answering yourself, but you needed to know.

“That seems like cheating, but I��ll allow it.” Matt jested, his worry poorly concealed behind his teasing tone.

“Why didn’t it bother you?”

For an intense moment, your soft question was met with icy silence. Then, he responded with a warmth you’d never heard from him. “Because I’ve known exactly what I’ve wanted with you since we met all those years ago. And, consciously or not, I decided to enjoy my time with you in that way.”

Mouth falling agape, you pondered the answer for a moment. Had you been seeking that with him too? Is that why you were more than ok with the state of your relationship every year?

Interpreting your failure to speak as unease, Matt apologized. “I’m sorry. If I’d known that you were uncomfortable about it, I wouldn’t have–”

“I never said I wasn’t ok with it, Matty.” Your voice was deep with want, your eyes focused on every twitch of his facial muscles as he processed your response. “I’ve wanted more with you for years, I just thought I was better at hiding it than I apparently was.”

Matt chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “We’re idiots, aren’t we?”

Matt’s breath heated your face, his lips felt too far away despite them hovering over your nose. Leaning into him, you crossed the invisible boundary you’d been dancing around for over a decade. “That depends on what we do next.”

Matt’s sharp inhale sparked a shiver down your spine. Settling one hand on your waist, the other cupped your chin gently. “Do I have permission to kiss you?”

“You fucking better, Murdock.” You murmured, hands wrapping around his nape as he closed the distance between your mouths.

As his plush lips met yours, the air was forced from your lungs. The evening ambiance of the city was drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears. A jolt of adrenaline, that was heavily threaded with pure need shocked your system, drawing a soft loan from your vocal chords as his tongue prodded your bottom lip.

“Matty, please,” You whimpered as he withdrew his mouth from yours.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words for me.” Matt’s smug tone prompted another moan from you.

“Want you. Please.”

“Anything for you, love.” Hiking you into his arms, Matt wove his lips between yours again as he carried you to the bedroom.

————————————

Scrunching your nose against the chill that overtook you as your foot slipped out from underneath the blankets, you retracted your leg, settling back into the cocoon of sheets and muscular arms with a sigh. Unfortunately, the abrupt temperature change had shocked your consciousness out of slumber, and now you had to face the consequences of whatever had happened last night.

Your bare back was pressed against Matt’s warm chest, each inhale of his lungs jostling you with a comforting rhythmic motion. His hands were joined atop your stomach, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. Whining softly, you pressed backwards into his hold, his arms tightening instinctively as you did so.

“Morning.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.” The feeling of his lips dancing across the thin skin on your head was pleasant, until your brain reminded you just how fleeting this moment would be.

“Morning.” You responded, your tone revealing your nerves.

“Hey, I can hear you working yourself up. Talk to me. Are you ok?” Matt’s brow furrowed, his blank eyes darting around you as he sat up to study you closely.

“I’m ok, Matty. Just…thinking about us, is all.” You shrugged, eyes falling closed as he placed kisses down your neck.

Hesitating before planting a kiss on your collar bone, his voice quieted. “Do you regret it?”

“Absolutely not.” Using two fingers to turn his face to you, you drew him in for a deep kiss. “God, you make me so happy, Matt. But I still have a few months left in my residency.”

“I know, sweetheart.” The clear disappointment in Matt’s voice almost shattered your composure.

“I wish things were different.” You sighed, resting your foreheads together.

“Don’t say that. You are getting a fantastic education so you can become the best pediatrician the world has ever seen. We can enjoy our time together now, that’s enough for me.” Matt’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but his optimism was contagious.

“And in April?” Matt’s hand came to cup your cheek.

“I’ll be here, waiting for you, as long as you want me.”

“I’ll always want you, Matt Murdock.” You promised, threading your fingers into his hair as he kissed you with a smile.

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the1975attheirverybest · 11 months

Text

A/N: my writing is still shit I guess. But here’s my first attempt and getting back into it.

Warnings: stranger danger? Maybe? Nothing too graphic or serious.

— — —

“So, what do you think? Which one?” She stared at him expectantly.

When Matty enthusiastically agreed to go shopping with her this morning, he had no idea that, an hour and 45 minutes in, he would be asked to weigh in on which shade of yellow towel set better matches the aesthetic of their bathroom at home.

“I- think, ummm, the mustard yellow?” He quirked his brows. To him, the two shades looked identical, but hey, if the love of his life says there’s a difference, then he must just be blind. Judging by the way that her face lit up at his answer, he knew he’d picked the one that she was hoping he’d pick. “Hey, babe, why don’t I hold your purse and coffee while you go check out the candles?”

She smiled at him. “You’re….not having fun, are you?” She cocked her head sheepishly.

“I’m having fun! I promise! Just thought you’d wanna smell the different scents and browse properly. Can’t do that if your hands are full.”

“Yeah, which is sweet, and I love you for it, but you hate shopping.”

“I’m not here for the shopping. I’m here for the girl who’s doing the shopping. Go on- I’m fine! I promise!”

She handed him her half full coffee cup, then slowly and carefully set the strap of her bag around his shoulder before giving him a quick kiss. “You’re a saint.”

Matty laughed, following her lead down the aisles.

***

“Okay, smell this one.”

Matty leaned in, taking a deep inhale to sample a whiff of the scented candle. He erupted into a coughing fit. “F-fuckin- hell. W-what the fuck is that called?”

She giggled, twirling the candle jar around to read the label. “Ummm…Ocean Breeze.”

“That’s not the scent of the ocean! That’s the scent of a pool. Full of chlorine. And children’s urine.”

She laughed heartily and made a smart retort that Matty only heard in the background as all his focus shifted to the tall, muscular, blond man at the end of the aisle, by the “essential oils and diffusers” section. Something about him didn’t feel right. Though Matty couldn’t quite figure out why.

“I think the Santa and Vanilla candle wins.” She finally announced, placing her winning candle in the cart.

Matty wheeled the cart ahead walking alongside her as she browsed the shelves, gradually getting closer and closer to the blond man. Then it hit him. Matty finally figured out why this man’s presence was unsettling. He’d seen him before. At the bedding aisle. And the kitchenware aisle. Just out of the corner of his eye. Wherever this man was, a few feet ahead, stood two young teenagers. 13- maybe- 14 years old. Alarm bells sounded in his head, he inched closer with his cart, pretending to need something from the shelf that the child stalker stood at, and blocking his view.

Just as Matty had thought, the man got out from behind him, rounded his cart, and crept closer to the girls.

“Are you looking for something?” The man squeezed in the ring space between the two girls.

Was he a store clerk, perhaps? Had Matty been too paranoid? Is it simply a coincidence that this guy was innocently doing his job, reorganizing the shelves wherever those two girls happened to be? He picked up a random room spray bottle, pretending to read the label for ingredients while trying to assess the situation.

“I’m really tall, so I can reach the shelves if you need me to.”

Okay, that was definitely an unreasonable thing to say. Those shelves weren’t too high for these girls to reach. And even if he were an employee. He’s standing way too close to both of them for this to be merely professional customer service.

“Babe, did you say you were running low on that CBD oil thing that you take on tour? Cuz I think-“

Matty shushed her, and when she persisted anyway, he whispered “shut the fuck up, darlin.”

She was both shocked and irritated, and as she prepared to give him shit for being so rude, she noticed his eyes fixated on something behind her. She turned around following his gaze, and, instantly, she recognized the situation.

“Oh, fuck no.” She whispered. “I’m gonna go get security.” Marching away as fast as she could without arousing the man’s suspicion.

Matty nodded, staying firmly in place and keeping a watchful eye over the situation.

***

“Right this way, sir. They were just around the candle aisle.” She pointed the security man to where she’d been standing, minutes ago, with her boyfriend, when they’d witnessed the incident. “Oh, for fucks sakes, Matty.” She mumbled as soon as she and the security guy had spotted them.

Matty’s hand was wrapped around the man’s upper arm. And he’d made a scene. “Might be difficult to get it through that thick head of yours. What with all that hair gel on top-“. Matty’s free hand swatted at the guy’s styled hair.

“Matty! That’s assault!” She rushed to her boyfriend’s side, attempting to assuage him. To her relief, though, the girls seemed to be amused.

“Alright, gentlemen. What seems to be the problem?” The security man cleared his throat assertively announcing his presence as he stepped forward, scanning Matty from head to toe.

Relieved that someone was an official badge had taken over the situation, she turned her attention to the young girls. “You young ladies alright?”

“Yeah.” One muttered while the other nodded repeated.

“Is that your boyfriend?” The taller girl who had a dimpled smile and braces on her teeth, asked.

“Y-yeah.”

The both looked on as Matty gesticulated passionately, explaining to the security officer what had happened. The girls took in his every word with awe and admiration.

She, on the other hand, found the whole thing a boring display of masculinity. I mean, Matty knew security would be there any second.

“He’s touched them! What else did you want me to do? Stand by and watch the kids get hurt??! He grabbed her arm so I fuckin grabbed his.” Matty pushed the curls that had fallen into his eye line as she yelled.

“I- sir, thank you for stepping in, but right now, all I need you to do is….well, let go of his arm.”

“Oh. Right.” Reluctantly, Matty’s hold on the guy loosened. He eventually withdrew completely.

“Sir, can I see some ID?”

“This is absurd. This guy’s mental!”

“ID please? We have security Cameras throughout the store. I’m sure we can corroborate the story.”

The security officer’s negotiating voice faded into irrelevance as Matty returned to his girlfriend and the two young girls. He took a deep breath, softening his face and putting on a bright smile. “So, how’re we all doing?”

The girls shyly and sincerely thanked him for stepping in, confirming that Matty’s suspicions were right. The guy had been following them around the store. They had noticed and tried to evade him by going into different aisles, but in doing so, they’re unintentionally dragged themselves further away from the exit, and into a quieter part of the store.

“Need us to walk you out? Just to be safe?” His girlfriend offered.

“Wait, hold on.” Matty interjected. “No reason to rush. These ladies came here to do some shopping. You get everything you need? No? Well, go on then. We’ll be right with you. Make sure nobody else bothers you, yeah? What do you say?”

***

Matty and his girlfriend hovered protectively on either side of the girls as they walked around the store. It was slightly weird at first. Both for the girls and for Matty. But, he noticed that his girlfriend immediately took it upon herself to ease the awkwardness by asking questions. Getting to know them. Before too long, the girls were walking on either side of her, giggling, and asking her opinion on outfits and room decor items while Matty had, somehow, found himself their bag boy. Holding on to their belonging, carrying their stuff, and dragging along behind them.

“Oh, no, please. Let me.” Matty produced a credit card out of his wallet, handing it to the register lady. “All together, please.”

“You don’t have to! We have money. Mom gave me her card!” The girl with the braces, whose name was Annie, as Matty had come to learn, protested.

“Consider it an apology. On behalf of my gender. To make up for…well, I know nothing really makes up for how uncomfortable and scary that kind of thing is. But, let me at least try.”

***

As the two young girls got into their Uber, Matty turned towards his girlfriend, taking the shopping bag from her hand and carrying it for her. He was replaying the unexpected events of the day in his head, trying to find the right words, but she beat him to it.

“That’s why I’m in love with you.” She whispered, wrapping both of her arms around his waist and hugging into his side.

Matty chuckled. “What, so it’s not my killer looks then?”

“I mean….that doesn’t hurt your chances. But mostly the other stuff….seriously, I had no idea he’d actually grabbed the girl.”

“Fuckin lost it when I saw that.”

She simply smiled. “I love you, Matty. I learn more about how wonderful you are everyday.”

“You know what I learned about me today, though?”

“What’s that?”

“My music is not popular with the middle schoolers.”

She burst into light and airy laughter. “Oh, gosh! That’s right! In all the intensity of the moment, I forgot about that! They had no clue who you are!”

“Yeah. It was quite nice actually.” He grinned, kissing the top of her head.

#matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fluff

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bullet-clubs-bitch · 4 months

Note

Can you please make a part 2 of Old flame?

Old Flame II

Summary: In an attempt to get under Billy's skin Bullet Club Gold interrupts The Acclaimed to request a trios title shot. During the confrontation, Austin and Colten bring up Y/n and how Billy is secretly in love with her after all these years. What happens when Y/n runs into Austin and Colten after Dynamite and learns that the words exchanged were indeed true.

Part 1 Part 3 Main Masterlist

Word count: 1092

Yn’s pov

When I signed with AEW I knew that would mean I would be working with my ex. That idea never bothered me, it had been so many years I had almost completely forgotten about it. I wouldn’t even call him my ex because we never officially dated, we were just friends that slept together. Billy got married, had two children and moved on like I did. Shortly after we split I got the opportunity to move across the world to work in Japan and I jumped at the opportunity. Even though Billy and I were never an item when I told him I was moving to Japan it was almost as if I was handing him divorce papers. I had never seen him in such a state, he thought he was the one who made me move but the job opportunity was just a pure coincidence.

“Y/n, you don’t have to do this. Please stay, stay with me” Billy begged as he held onto me as if he was drowning and I was a life preserve. “I’m sorry but I can’t pass up this opportunity” I told the poor man. “If you really want you can move with me?” I knew he would never say yes but I had to at least throw the idea out there. “You know I can’t do that” he told me. “You have to let me go, Billy. It’s not like we are dating, you did that to yourself. You can call me if you need anything even with a 14-hour time difference” With that I left, hopping on a plane wondering if I was making the right decision.

Fast forward 30 years here I am in AEW. Japan taught me many things, although I did spend some time wrestling I was more focused on writing. I became a creative director and producer for some of the big leagues in Japan. During that time I had a daughter and met many different people, people who I would be friends for life with. That was how I ended up in AEW. The forbidden door PPV brought me back to the States where I decided I would stay, signing with AEW.

It was weird when I first saw Billy for the first time after so many years. I knew he was there but seeing him in person was a whole different story. He was more attractive now and more muscular if that was even possible. Billy and I didn’t spend too much time with each other as we were both busy but I did spend a lot of time with his sons. When Austin and Colten asked if I could help train them I accepted the offer, training the two of them with my daughter Ashley. At first, I found it weird how many questions Austin kept asking about my relationship with his father but just ignored it. It wasn’t until I heard the words exchanged between Bullet Club Gold and The Acclaimed that I got it. All of these invasive questions were to get under Billy’s skin. It was a smart idea but I didn’t know how it was relevant.

After the show, I ran into Austin and Colten Gunn to which I asked them about their choice of words on dynamite. “You know what we said was true right?” Colten asked me

“What do you mean by that?” “I mean my dad is still in love with you!” I was shocked by what I was hearing. “What?” I asked in disbelief “It’s true” Austin said “I mean just look at the guy. Since the moment you stepped in here, he hasn’t shut up about you. Have you seen our mom, she looks like a bad ripoff of you” The more I thought about it I guess it made sense. He was quite upset after the whole incident, more than I was. Although the mention of Billy getting with someone with similar features as mine was funny, I didn’t think it was true. That it was until I saw a picture. “See! I told you, the same person!” Colten said to me as I looked at the photo in my hands. Sure we both had Y/h/c hair and Y/e/c eyes but I would say that was a coincidence.

“I think this is a bit far-fetched don’t you think? That’s also mean to your mom, I’m sure she’s a nice person” I told the boys. “I don’t like my mom. I like my dad more and that’s saying something” Austin told me. “Yeah, I wish you were my mom. Billy even showed us all of your old matches when we were little. He talked about you a lot. I think my mom was jealous, that’s why she dipped” Colten confessed.

This was a lot of information for me to process. Sure I was in a similar situation, being a single mom after Ashley’s father couldn’t handle the wrestling lifestyle. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw myself at Billy like I was back in my 20s. Sure it was nice to see Billy again, age served him well. He was way different than I remembered. He was more mature, wiser, he was kinder and everyone liked him. The Billy Gunn I remembered was an Ass man. People were jealous of him, women threw themself at him, he had an attitude and bad temper he was a walking red flag but I knew deep down inside was a good guy.

This Billy Gunn was Daddy Ass. He was respected, looked up to, and a mentor. He was kind to people, going out of his way to make young talent feel welcome. His title of “Daddy” Ass was accurate as he just had this “Daddy” aura to him. Not in a DILF way but a Daddy way. An overprotective kind soul, the guy I knew was hiding under the cockiness he had during his youth.

I didn’t know what to do with this new information. If Billy was in love with me he should be the one to tell me, not his sons. “I think it’s getting late don’t you think. We can chat more about this next week at your next session. If what you told me is true it should be your dad telling me this not you. Good night boys” I told them as I left the arena. I didn’t even notice that I angrily stormed past Billy until I heard him calling my name. Stopping me in my tracks.

#bullet clubs bitch #aew smut #all elite wrestling #aew #aew fanfiction #billy gunn aew #billy gunn smut #billy gunn x reader #billy gunn imagine #billy gunn #the acclaimed #daddy ass x reader #daddy ass

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captainsimagines · 1 year

Text

pretty woman, this is me trying || two

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(2/14)

Mini-Series

Warnings: discussions about consensual sex work; strong language; references to sexual acts

Word Count: 3,380+

Sometimes you loved your job. Sometimes you hated it.

On a night like this, however, you absolutely loved it.

Kendall was a forty-something year old man—he hadn’t disclosed the exact age for work related reasons—and he always picked the best restaurants. Italian cuisine, Chinese, Mexican. It was like he scoured all of New York for you specifically, and made note of the best ones.

When he had first sent you a message, you were weirded out by the lack of information on his page. You had sent his profile to be vetted through the website’s system, only to be told that he had special permission to leave his profile half blank. Apparently, Mr. Kendall No Last Name was a CIA agent who asked for the utmost discretion.

So with pepper spray and a letter opener in your purse, you risked it.

And boy, was that a good choice.

He never wanted to sleep with you. He just wanted company. Someone to talk to about his pending divorce and about stress from work. A hot meal was provided, a hotel room was usually booked, and reruns of old 90s movies played in the background as Kendall continued ranting, drinking his champagne and falling asleep before you.

He was attractive. Green eyes and curly brown hair. A muscular body that wasn’t too extreme. Lips that you had found yourself staring at for too long some moments. But they were so perfectly etched on his face, how could you not?

You’d be a liar if you said you weren’t excited for his dates. He was a repeat client, scheduled for Friday nights and sometimes Saturday mornings. He had been choosing your services for over a year, and Christmas time brought his highest booking rates.

One-thousand dollars a night. No sex, he wouldn’t let you pay for food, and he always ended the date with, “So, same time next week?”

Your phone pinged with the notification that he had indeed booked you for the same time next week.

Kendall wasn’t your only client, though. And just because he wasn’t asking you for sex didn’t mean the others weren’t.

Justin was usually an all-in kind of guy. You usually had to fake your orgasms with him. But he was attractive and held good conversation, so you put up with it.

Marvin just wanted blowjobs. Literally, that was all he ever asked for. Then he filled up the rest of his time with talk of Star Wars.

Leslie was your only female client. After doing your nails and gossiping about work, she went down on you. Like, for an hour straight. Then she pulled out the strap-on, laid on her stomach, and asked you to fuck her hard and fast.

She was probably the client you looked forward to the most after Kendall.

You unlocked your apartment door and triple-checked the lock after closing it. You had left your pajamas laid out and your skincare routine all lined up. You internally high-fived yourself for that.

Once you snuggled up in bed, you scrolled through your social media. You were private on most things, and your public sites had no personal photos. It was a hazard for work, so you compromised.

As your eyes became heavier, you clicked off your phone and turned it upside down on your nightstand. You had a free day tomorrow. No clients, just grocery shopping.

Your phone pinged. Had Kendall forgotten something? Did you remember to take your cardigan from the passenger seat of his car?

You groaned and unlocked your phone, squinting as the light nearly blinded you. It was a notification from the escort app—a private message. You debated opening it in the morning, but a free day was a free day for a reason. No work, no distractions, nothing.

You choked on your spit as you finished reading the first line. Flopping over in bed, you reached over to turn on your lamp.

“Good evening, Escort Renaissance.”

You rolled your eyes. It was a stage name you had picked as a joke, thinking you could change it later. But your profile was completed and made permanent once you created the account. You would have to contact customer service to change it or create a whole different profile. It was more work than you wanted to do.

“As you can tell by the encryption, this message is private. Not even the technology support of this app can view it. My name is Maria Hill, co-director of Stark Industries and field agent, tasked with contacting you through Tony Stark himself.”

This had to be a joke. It was a joke. No way this was serious.

“We were wondering if you would be interested in attending the annual Avengers Christmas Ball this month. Our only request is that you attend on the arm of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. If his history is a dealbreaker for you, please delete this email and sign the NDA that will appear in your personal email inbox afterward.

If you accept, would you be able to visit the Avengers Compound tomorrow morning, December 2nd, and possibly meet with the Sergeant? Specifics of this agreement will be, and can only be, discussed in person.

Thank you,

Agent Maria Hill, Co-Director

Stark Industries”

You blinked at the message multiple times, rereading it just in case something popped up mid-read and announced it was a scam. Because this had to be.

There was no way the Winter Soldier was in the market for a hooker.

You were a stupid person. You were going to be proven right, that this was all a scam, and be absolutely humiliated at the front door. Or rather, front gate.

Oh my god, there were people with guns at the front gate.

What the fuck do you say? Hi! I’m the escort one of you signed up for!

You drove to the entrance and counted your breaths, trying to make the next inhale longer than the last. The man at the kiosk motioned at you to stop your car. Then five other people started scanning it and checking your tires.

“You know what? Forget it. I just remembered I had this appointment with my nail tech at one today, so I can just put this bitch in reverse and fuck off—”

“Are you M.R?”

Are you M.R?

“By M.R, do you mean Miss Renaissance?”

The man’s eyebrows knitted together as he read his clipboard again. “Yeah, the artist Stark wanted to speak with about a new piece for his office.”

You swallowed a whimper. The humiliation was turning to nausea now. “Yup, that’s me. Artist, painter, what the fuck drawer.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before shaking his head, deciding it was better to just let you through than deal with you himself. If anything did go wrong, the Avengers would handle you.

Oh my god, the Avengers would handle you.

Squealing all the way to the parking lot, you prayed to whatever entity would listen that this conversation went well. Did the Avengers often call for sex workers to… accompany them to Balls? Or did they employ them for what the job description literally said?

You were escorted through the entrance and down several hallways. They let you know where the bathrooms were, where the fire alarm was, where the I need an Avenger, stat! alarm was. They were color-coded, too.

You stepped faaaar away from the green one.

They made you sign an NDA regardless. You were sat in a large room that looked lived-in, with a kitchen off to the side and the entrance to the gym on the other. A stray cardigan hung from the recliner and several board games were stacked in the bookcase. Someone’s Netflix home page was on the TV screen, slideshow on.

These were the same people who fought aliens and killed people. Who carried guns and were hunted by the government for a time. Who had seen atrocious things and lived through immense trauma—

“Miss Renaissance!”

You startled, phone toppling from your already shaking fingers and onto the blue rug. You scoped the floor like Velma looking for her glasses, apologizing under your breath. Whoever stepped in front of you had very nice dress shoes.

“That’s me, I’m her. Hi.”

They held out a hand. You dared to look up, whimper fully released now as you realized whose hand was reaching down to help you. Never in your life did you think Tony Stark would help you stand. Let alone contact you. No doubt he’s utilized the services of escorts and the like, but did you ever think you’d be one of them? Nope.

“Glad to see you’re on time! And dressed incredibly saucy if I may add.”

You blushed, looking down at your attire. You had worn a knitted sweater and a pair of leggings, with sneakers and some fuzzy socks. It was almost winter, after all. Stark’s sarcasm is a relief really. It didn’t sound condescending.

“Well, they say dress for the job you want, not the job you have.”

“And what job do you want?”

“Why, hooker of course!”

Stark sputters a laugh, smiling wide. “Yay, I like you already. Follow me?”

The breath is knocked from your lungs in one big rush. All the worry you were feeling beforehand had seemed to diminish, now turning into something more neutral. If they didn’t want you around, then you’ll have left without making such a horrendous first impression.

“You sign the NDA?”

“Got the ink on my fingers to prove it.”

“You like the compound?”

“I prefer my little shoebox.”

“You like big, strong, burly men with long hair?”

“If they can fuck like Gods, I’m all for them.”

Another choked laugh. “Good to know.”

He led you into a more private area, and it wasn’t until Pietro Maximoff appeared from a side door that you realized where you were heading.

A bedroom.

Oh my god, Stark was leading you to a bedroom. Oh my god, was work starting already?

“Um, I was told this was simply a meeting and that I didn’t have to perform—”

“Oh, Hell. I’m sorry. I’m leading you to the Sergeant’s room because it’s soundproof. You are not fucking him.”

You blew a raspberry, shoulders falling limp. “Oh, yay, good. I didn’t shave.”

“You know what? Forget about Barnes. Be mine instead.”

It was your turn to laugh. Stark knocked on the door three times, rocking on his heels as he waited.

What would the Winter Soldier be like? Was he tough and rugged? Was he quiet and mysterious? Was he gentle and kind? Did he fuck like a God?

The door opened to reveal none of the above.

There weren’t words to describe him. None would suffice.

You were utterly, truly, awestruck. He had blue eyes that looked so damn sad but gleamed a beautiful silver. A nose with the perfect arch that was just a little scarlet on the tip. Lips so pink and precious and hydrated, your leg muscles clenched. Long hair up in a messy bun, conditioned and shiny. And his body…

You were ogling. You were being offensive. You tried focusing on the objects behind him but that only got you looking at his shoulder.

Metal. Metal and strong and shit.

You wanted that metal hand wrapped around your neck.

“Hi,” you squeaked, clearing your throat immediately afterward. “I’m—”

“Renaissance?”

“Ugh, that’s a stage name. I would have chosen Lightening Pussy if they allowed name changes, but Renaissance is all I’ve got to work with.”

The Sergeant blinked, blue eyes looking from you to Stark. “Come in please.”

Scratch everything you said before about this being a bedroom. This was a whole private apartment. His own marble kitchen, living area, a single bathroom, and an extra private bedroom down the hall. It was amazing, but it wasn’t overly personal.

Everything looked like a model home. Impersonal but practical.

“So what do you want to know?”

The Sergeant opened his mouth to speak but Stark beat him to it. “Are you available for the entire month?”

You scoffed, “Are you serious?”

“Dead. Barnes here has been talking about swiping his V-Card since he moved in but he’s got a lot to learn. I would pay you for the entire month, even past the day of the Ball so you don’t lose out on any income that could have come from other dates.”

“I’m—” Barnes cringed, whispering lightly. “I’m not a virgin.”

Stark cleared his throat, his face suddenly going serious. He looked at Barnes like he was trying to apologize, to speak with his eyes. A conversation that needed to be had without you in the room.

So you changed the subject. “I would have to let my other clients know as soon as possible. What dollar range are we talking?”

“Let’s say…” Stark pretended to add in his mind. “One hundred thousand?”

“W-what?”

“Is that too little?” Stark asked, pulling out his phone. “I’m sure Pepper said that amount.”

“One… One hundred thousand?”

“Yeah, see, here,” Stark said, turning his phone and showing you the email. “One hundred thousand dollars, paid upfront, cash or check.”

“One hundred THOUSAND?”

“Is she not getting this? I’m getting this. Are you getting this, Barnes?”

Barnes wiped a frustrated hand down his face, groaning, “She gets it, Stark. She’s just not believing it.”

You usually made rent on time. Sometimes you had to dip into your savings, but that’s what it was there for. One hundred thousand dollars could get you a better apartment. It could pay for travel. It could change your life.

You enjoyed your job. You didn’t mind the odd hours or the sex. You had a choice in it all. But would you like to do something else with your life that allowed you a different kind of freedom?

Absolutely.

“What exactly am I being recruited for?”

“Barnes,” Tony said, bowing his head a little. “Shall I leave you to it?”

Barnes nodded, still not meeting your eye. He was reserved, you could tell that by his demeanor alone. But there was something else about him. Something chaotic but pure, bursting at the seams. No word described him yet because you didn’t know him. You didn’t want to assume. So you left him as he currently was: Reserved.

When the door clicked, Barnes shot back quickly to sit on the couch. Several feet away from you.

“Do I smell?”

Barnes’s eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

“I showered last night and put on perfume, so it’s a problem with your nose. Not my pits.”

He shook his head, blinking as if to clear his mind. “Can I speak, please? And call me Bucky.”

Bucky. Even his name was unique.

“Stark is hosting a Christmas Ball on Christmas Eve and I need a date. But I don’t know anyone, so.”

“Ah, so your only solution was to hire a hooker.”

“I thought you were an escort.”

You shrugged, putting your purse down on one of the nearby bar stools. “When they don’t fuck me, I’m an escort.”

Bucky cringed, but quickly tried to hide it. Did this guy have a problem with consensual sex work? Because if he did then this was going to be a problem. You had no problem telling off the Winter Soldier. You didn’t care how red his ledger was.

“I just… I just need a date. I’m not expecting anything from you. But I would greatly appreciate it if you could accompany me.”

So, he did want you. Just in a whole other context. He was probably just too shy to send you the message himself.

“Alright. So is this like a test run? We ask each other questions and you see if you like me or not?”

Again, his face did some awkward contorting motion. “We don’t have to. I know enough.”

He… What?

“Did you guys run a background check on me?”

“Look at where you are.”

“No, no. For sure, I get that. But I’m supposed to be your date. What if people ask where we met, what our favorite foods are, what positions we like to cuddle in?”

“I’m positive no one will care.”

“Bucky Barnes, I am hot. You are hot. We would make a hot couple. People are always curious about hot couples.” You moved to go sit on the opposite couch, speaking simultaneously. “We should at least create a cover story.”

Then he did the weirdest thing.

He stood up the moment your ass hit the cushion, and went to stand near your abandoned purse.

Did he…Was he okay? Was there something else that needed to be addressed? In this business, you’ve seen it all.

People who have overcome trauma and want to explore the things they used to love. People who were battling trauma and wanted to see what they still liked. People who did not touch you, did not want you touching them, and just wanted company. People who fucked like they needed that release, like they were going to die without it.

“Bucky… I can leave now if you’d like me to. I know I come off strong, but I’ve found that usually calms my clients. Especially if they’re first-timers. But if you don’t want me—”

“I want you.”

You paused mid-air, looking at him. He had uncrossed his arms, as if to physically stop you from leaving the room. But you know that idea was exaggerated. It was probably just a reflex.

“Please stay.”

You sat back down, clearing your throat. “Ask me questions. Get comfortable with me. I promise I will do what’s asked of me and respect you and this place. I’m not trying to pressure you, but I could really use that money.”

There. It was said, it was out in the open. No taking it back now. You didn’t want to guilt trip, but you meant what you said. You wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t asked of you and you would make him and the team look good.

Hell, for that amount of money, you would fuck all the Avengers.

But… No. No fucking was going to occur. Just sweet talking, names exchanged, and whatever else this hunk of a man asked of you.

“I…” Bucky looked to the floor, throwing around your words in his mind. His facial expressions were difficult to read. He looked angry, but it could also be frustration. He looked sad, but it could also be boredom.

“Come back tomorrow,” he continued, finally looking up at you. The blue of his eyes glistened, locking you in place. “Come back tomorrow and we can… We can talk about our favorite colors.”

“I said they’d ask what our favorite foods and cuddling positions were.”

Then his chest rumbled, and the most beautiful quiet laugh spilled from his soft-looking lips. His eyes even adopted some of those lovely crinkles. Aging or laughter or otherwise.

You made him laugh.

Gods almighty, let the whole country know that you made him laugh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bucky Barnes.”

“See you tomorrow…?”

You repeat your name for him, enunciating the pronunciation and everything. He repeats it back to you, and you melt a little inside. Like marshmallows in rich, hot chocolate.

It was Hell emailing your clients to tell them you would be unavailable for the rest of the month. Usually, December is your most busy month. But you would now be making more than you do in six months combined.

That is, if Bucky Barnes liked you tomorrow.

He was, perhaps, the most beautiful man you had ever seen. And the fact that he didn’t physically want you? Fuck your life.

But you were a professional and not everything was about sex. Companionship was a big deal during the holidays, and you were going to deliver.

You finished heating your tea just as Home Alone started on TV. You snuggled deep into your blanket, wincing when your fuzzy socks lightly shocked you. You warmed up your hands, glanced at the falling snow outside your window, and sighed as the opening credits began to roll.

It was your job to provide companionship.

It just always felt one-sided.

Because you were, sadly, so incredibly lonely.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #holiday fanfic #pretty woman au #captainsimagines #by Moni

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offender42085 · 11 months

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Post 966

Geoffrey Tracy, New York inmate 23B0490, born 1992, incarceration intake 2023 at age 30, earliest release date 10/11/2029, with full release on 12/03/2030

Assault, Attempted Assault

In January 2023, a beefy fitness model who stabbed his roommate more than a dozen times in a fit of rage was sentenced to eight years behind bars for the sensational 2018 attack.

Geoffrey Tracy, 30, learned his fate nearly four years after he came at his rental host Gregory Kanczes with a knife, leaving the then-50-year-old man covered in blood in his Hell’s Kitchen pad.

“It is only by the grace of god that I survived your assault that nearly ended my life,” Kanczes said in a victim impact statement read aloud during the hearing in Manhattan Supreme Court.

Justice Curtis Farber cited cellphone footage of the Aug. 14, 2018 crime as he sentenced Tracy — who was convicted at trial of assault and attempted assault the month before — saying he was disturbed by the sight of “a man literally having been assaulted by Mr. Tracy.”

Prosecutors initially sought 10 years in state prison, in addition to five years supervised release, while the defense argued that five years incarceration was sufficient. Tracy, of Gilroy, Calif., was eventually handed an eight year term on the assault conviction and a sentence of up to four years for attempted assault, to run concurrently.

The stabbing frenzy occurred just days after Tracy, then 25, moved to New York to dance at a strip club.

Prosecutors said the bodybuilder attacked Kanczes 16 times with a knife after accusing him of going through his belongings.

Tracy, who initially fled the scene and disposed of the knife, plead not guilty to charges of second-degree attempted murder and first-degree assault in Sept. 2018.

The prosecutor cited Tracy’s alleged steroid use, noting that he made money by dealing performance-enhancing drugs at the time of the attack.

Tracy, who looked noticeably less muscular in his khaki jail clothes, was supported in court by his father, Thomas Tracy, his girlfriend, Shawley Henderson, and his employer Alex Larson.

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deliciouskeys · 6 months

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@cozycornerkinktober's prompt #14: Forced feminization

Private Halloween (Homelander x Maeve)

Warnings: Rated E. Top the Homelander, for the most part, although definitely some sublander, whippedlander elements and some genderfuck in case the prompt wasn't a giveaway. Precanon, set in 2014. AO3 link. Directly inspired by my favorite non-HL picture of Antony Starr:

Homelander laughs. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going out in that. What do you think the tabloids would say?”

“That you’re a fun guy with a sense of humor, maybe?” Maeve exhales smoke from her vape. Their relationship has really soured over the years, and she’s pretty sure she’s just acting purely from a place of spite nowadays, testing to see how far she can go before he decides to call it quits. Apparently he’ll tolerate a lot. It’s like he’s really in love with her or at least whatever sickening twisted version of love that his mind is capable of.

“Maeve, be serious,” he says. Oh god is he actually pleading with her? Why can’t he just see that they have nothing in common, that she’s smoking to annoy him, and that she’s specifically chosen a costume he won’t wear so she can tell him how lame and cowardly he is?

“What am I supposed to be serious about? You wearing a cheerleader costume for Halloween?”

Homelander purses his lips. “If I wear this in public they’ll think I’m a pervert.”

“Good. They’ll be right.” She’s really pushing it. She better be careful lest he decide that it’s easier to laser her in half than break up with her. But the grinding of his jaw stops and to her horror instead of walking out in a huff, he puts his hands on the bed and crawls forward, insinuating himself between her legs, nudging them apart and rubbing his cheek along one of her inner thighs. She tries to draw back but he just follows her body.

“If you really want me to, I’ll wear it. Just for you.”

Jesus, he’s in this kind of mood today? The ‘I’ll do anything for you’ knight in shining armor mode? Maeve really doesn’t understand what he sees in her. She’s not only not trying to be a good girlfriend, she’s actively acting repulsive towards him. And yet here he is, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes so she’s actually tempted to pat him on the head even though he’s a 33 year old man whom she’s seen do despicable things while out on missions together. Whom she’d already firmly said no to on the topic of marriage, despite the fear that he might kill her for it.

“What do you mean just for me? In the bedroom?” It’s not a good compromise at all, but Maeve does want to see him wear the outfit.

“Mmhmm,” he mumbles, making a trail of tiny kisses up her inner thigh, getting close to her boyshorts. He’s hated boyshorts ever since he found out that’s what they were called, so she wears them every day to annoy him. But he’s stopped complaining. Whatever she tries to do to annoy him, he just seems to get used to ignoring. He’s infuriatingly adaptable that way.

“Okay, fine, put it on just for me,” she says with resignation.

Homelander goes into the bathroom to change. Of all things to be weird and shy about, he still doesn’t seem to like her watching him removing the top piece of his suit. As if she doesn’t notice the contrast between the foam padded uniform and the smaller, leaner version that emerges out of that stiff structured shell unless she sees the undressing happen in front of her. Maeve wonders if she should be thankful he has never complained about any part of her body, given how many hangups he appears to have about his own.

Homelander walks out of her bathroom, red white and blue uniform on, “USA” in bold bright letters across the chest (Maeve was kind enough to at least keep that theme consistent). He’s still smoothing out the pleated skirt. Maeve has to admit the feminine getup actually makes him look muscular and manly, because even though she got a large size, his biceps are something a woman would find hard to achieve, and his calves have an unmistakably male musculature.

“Where’s the wig?” she asks.

Homelander looks up at her with a deer in the headlights look. “I… you want that too?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Maeve says coldly but gets up off the bed. “Here let me help you with the makeup too.”

Homelander follows her back into the bathroom, looking a little bit lost, probably wondering why she wants all this from him. If none of the other hints Maeve has dropped about liking women have ever sunk in, she’s sure this one won’t either. She puts the wig on him, tucking his real hair into the scratchy cheap mesh, a blond long bob with bangs and falling just below the chin. It doesn’t look half bad on him, somehow, despite being a cheap Halloween item. Maeve makes him sit down on the toilet lid and picks up her minimalist makeup bag. He doesn’t move a muscle as she does his face. She finds it surprisingly hard to do it for someone else, all her motions feeling strange when not directed by a mirror image. But she enjoys watching Homelander sit there so obediently, ramrod straight, face impassive, only moving his eyes when she instructs him to look up at the ceiling to get his upper lashes done, or to smack his lips to spread out the lipstick.

He glances in the mirror as they walk out of the bathroom but doesn’t seem to have any opinion on her work.

“Now you can eat me out,” Maeve says, spreading herself out on the bed, taking her underwear off and tossing it on the floor. Homelander’s nostrils flare– it’s yet another thing she finds disturbing about him, the fact that he can detect her arousal and visibly inhales it deeply. At least right now they’re in the privacy of her bedroom, but he’s done it when they’ve been out and about, and she was fully clothed. She’s never called him out on it, because she’s not sure he’s aware others can see him doing it, or even that he’s doing it at all.

Homelander doesn’t put any effort into acting in any way female, but when he hooks her legs over his shoulders, buries his face into her folds, and starts sucking and licking her clit like she’d taught him all those years ago, it suddenly doesn’t matter. Looking down at him in the wig and silly cheerleader outfit she can suddenly pretend this is someone else entirely, even a different gender, and it’s an amazing turnon. Maeve leans back and moans in pleasure, and Homelander redoubles his efforts, unaware of her little mental infidelity. She’s soaking his face and he, good boy that he is, doesn’t pause much at all, sometimes running his tongue further down to slurp up what’s spilling out of her, drinking it up as if he’s parched. She’s sure he wants to bury himself deep inside her, but he knows not to make a move until her say so. That’s another bit of good manners she’s trained in him.

“You’re such a good girl,” Maeve moans out, wanting to grab him by the long hair and pull but thinking better of it since the wig will probably slide right off.

Homelander doesn’t seem fazed by the particular words she's using in praise of him and reapplies himself with more fervor, sucking on a large area while still flicking his tongue across her sensitive spots. Maeve’s eyes are hazy with pleasure but she still watches the pleated skirt slide or bounce a little bit whenever Homelander has to shift to rearrange himself. She comes loudly, gripping the sheets, squeezing his head between her thighs with crushing strength. Any mortal wouldn’t survive that kind of pressure but she knows Homelander enjoys getting his head trapped in this orgasmic vise of hers.

She was going to be cruel. She was going to put on a strapon and make him get up on her cock and bounce around on it. She was going to make him do a cheerleading chant in falsetto and spell out her name and any number of other ridiculous things. But when she looks down and sees those same puppydog, now eyeliner-lined eyes looking up at her not just hopefully but lovingly, she can’t do it. He’s so clueless and pathetic, she can’t even mock him like she wants to.

“May I?” he asks, and oh how dopey and hokey he sounds with that formal question, and she can’t deny him.

Homelander picks her up with ease, and seats her on his cock as he’s standing. Maeve doesn’t like the position– all the boring aspects of missionary, but none of the comfort of being on the bed on her back. Her feet don’t even reach the floor so she’s dangling awkwardly, held up by him, at his mercy, and with a constant reminder of how weightless she is in his arms. But she won’t tell him she hates it, because that would mean she’s lied about the five hundred previous times.

“Oh Maeve,” he says, hiking her up higher so he can bury his face into her chest. Maeve sometimes wonders if he’s a boob man but has tragically resigned himself to her B cups because she’s the only one strong enough to withstand unbridled sex with him. “I love you.”

Maeve cringes. Maybe this is the one aspect where he easily take on the traditional female role– pining for a connection, openly talking about love, naively hoping it will get reciprocated even though he’s been unquestionably rebuffed. She thinks about this as he lowers her down, easily sheathing himself into her relaxed, still aroused body, fucking up into her with ugly low grunts and inelegant jerky motions. But the wig is still on, and rather than look at his twisted, pained looking approaching-O face, Maeve chooses to focus on the blond tresses framing his face bouncing to and fro with each thrust. She focuses on the tremble of his eyelashes– already dark and enviably long to start with– now garishly enhanced with mascara. And for a moment she can pretend this is a stranger, an athletic, strong, but still feminine stranger, who’s giving her the ride of her life. Maeve can’t remember the last time she came on his cock, but she beats him to the punch this time, another orgasm rocking through her and causing her entire body to shake in his grasp. He notices and grins weakly, before returning right back to his pained, scrunched up face as his own pleasure hits him.

They lie side by side in her bed afterwards, and he doesn’t make a peep about her vaping, just all smiles and cocky little winks from time to time. She didn’t realize how happy her finishing around his cock would make him.

“You make a pretty woman,” she says, trying to reemphasize what it was that revved her up so much. “Maybe you should wear that every time we have sex.”

He snorts. “Didn’t know you were a lesbian.”

“I’m bi, actually,” she says, wondering what on earth possessed her to finally tell him bluntly. Apparently she feels intent on testing how much he’ll put up with from her.

Homelander pauses, mulling over her words, and she starts to regret them, growing apprehensive. Sometimes she forgets how easily angered he can get at others, and how much damage he can do when the mood suits him. But the long pause culminates with a simple “Good one.” He won’t listen to what he doesn’t want to hear, that’s a trait she should know well by now.

#cozy corner kinktober #homelander x maeve #maevlander #queen maeve #homelander #crossdressing #genderfuck #top the homelander #the boys #the boys tv #mystuff #fic

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astarab1aze · 5 days

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➥ Hydric Armageddon

⸻Technical Information. // Face, Voice, etc.

01. Faceclaim. Satoru Gojo [ Jujutsu Kaisen ] 04. Voice Claim. Kaiji Tang

⸻Profile Information. // Name, Age, etc.

01. Name. Unknown, generally referred to in myths and legends as the Hand of God and the Thousand-Head Hydra 02. Alias. Hydre Blanglas, Hydra [ ‘Hydra White-Ice’ ; he’s not very creative ] 03. Sex. Male 04. Gender. Male 05. Age. Unknown, but could be many, many thousands of years old despite being the youngest son of the Worldeaters 06. Birth Date. November 13th [ Scorpio ] 07. Blood Type. Sub-type HAO- [ Saphluvium Ichor ] 08. Race. Divine Hydra, no nationality; Miraglasian Dragonkin by ethnicity. 09. Marital Status. Single [ Multiship ] 10. Orientation. Demiromantic [ Biromantic / no preference ] 11. Residence. Formerly, in the Gardens of Oblivion, the Hellplane, within the cosmic weave of the Worldeater’s constellation ; Formerly, in his mortal life, the ancient Sunjatti city of Miraglas, of which no remnants remain as it was destroyed in the War of Souls by Viostran Duskmorne.

⸻Physical Information. // Body, Equipment, Family, etc.

17. Physical Description. Hydre, in his anthromorphic humanoid form, is about 6'10". Tall, toned and defined, sporting a head of short, messy white hair with a slight bluish tint. Soft to the touch, but windblown and wild. His eyes are piercing, wide, expressive, framed by long, bluish-white lashes - striking prismatic blue in color; Impenetrable, unreadable, devoid of emotion despite his range of expressions - he generally keeps them covered by black cloth, not for any special reason but for the aesthetic. His skin is pale ivory in tone and riddled with iridescent white-blue scales, particularly in bonier areas (spine, nape, collarbones, jaw hinges, cheekbones, wrists, elbows, knuckles), with some accent spikes of varyingly short lengths (elbows, cheekbones) in matching his skin tone. He has a single scar looping around his neck caused by beheading (the result of a battle against Viostra's Azfodel), jagged and still-puffy even after a thousand years of slumbering among the stars.

His glacial hydra form is titanic in size, thick and muscular-bodied, covered in impenetrable bluish scales; Each head bears a fierce and vicious expression, many rows of spikes covering his body from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. Snow and ice naturally collect underneath his scales, secreted by hydroproduction glands all throughout his body. His blood is extremely caustic and rich sapphire in color, wildly deadly to all living and spiritual beings with the only exception being some other gods. His body is built for long-term submersion in unimaginably frigid waters and the vacuum of space. His stomach acid is effectively a thousand times stronger than hydrochloric acid.

13. Equipment. Not applicable ; He has no need - he sort of is the equipment. 14. Occupation. The Hand of God, he who sows destruction so that the Worldeater may devour, he who ends so another may begin again ; He is one of the Worldeater’s many offspring and far from favorite, but given the responsibility of carrying out His will on the physical plain, naturally dispositioned to do so. 15. Job Performance. Terror ; There’s a reason the Worldeater chose him for this over Versus, thousands of years ago on the day of his birth. 16. Parents. Nocturne, the Worldeater, Endbringer, the primordial outer god of cyclical destruction and rebirth ; Considered to be the most powerful and furthest reaching of all outer gods, king of demons, dragons, and reptilian nightfolk, and feared as the god of them all - And also Ade ( @elysiumtouched ), who has, over time, become much the same. 17. Siblings. Much and many, but none he gives a shit about ; He has one even he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy however, a sister by the name of Versus - he finds her abhorrent in every way and would be quite happy to kill her again, if given the chance.

⸻Personality Information. // Likes, Strengths, etc.

18. Likes. Snow, hydrangeas, napping, music, ghost stories, dancing, scarbuncle cheese, pastries, beholder meat, fish, crocodingos, beholders in general, ice, rain, being in or around bodies of moving water, seaglass, early morning, styxies, recycling, mint chocolate ice cream, sulphur, dead silence, eating (people), smiting Viostrans, the Chimerian countryside, etc. 19. Dislikes. Nocturne, Versus, all of his other siblings too, humanity, nightfolk, weak and non-magic users, dragon hunters, Myrrdinians, self-righteous types, liars, picky eaters, whiners, high-pitched noises, chewing sounds, getting dirty, pickles, leeches, mooches, spiders, flies, fire-based magic users, boredom, people who are incapable of even accepting the truth, anything he can’t eat, being awake, having to do anything related to his (1) job, summer time, milk, etc.

20. Positive Traits. Adaptive. Unwavering. Decisive. Intelligent. Introspective. Protective. Capable. Thorough. Confident. Controlled. Serious. Rational. Strong-willed. Accommodating. Accepting. Affectionate. 21. Negative Traits. Temperamental. Selfish. Violent. Cruel. Cold. Dismissive. Sardonic. Bitter. Remorseless. Ill-Mannered. Murderous. Hypocritical. Dishonest. Disloyal. Impatient. Vulgar. Noncommittal. Manipulative. Merciless. Unforgiving. Possessive. 22. Goals. To usher in the end of the current cycle, to pave the way for the Worldeater to swallow the world whole and begin a new cycle ; There is no other goal, he has no other purpose. He was born for this and this alone. 23. Desires. To go the FUCK back to bed (and maybe stuff his face a bit). 24. Alignment. Neutral Evil - True Neutral

25. Personality. Hydre is an asshole. A very bored, very tired, very pissed off asshole. He’s not easy to get along with by any stretch of the imagination and he genuinely does not care about anyone or anything beyond entertainment value, whatever that means to him. He’s impersonally brutal, focused and unwavering, but he is also lazy and would rather sleep another thousand years than satisfy the conditions of his continued existence. He’s extremely guarded and views mortal pursuits as inherently pointless, especially when considering just how long-lived he is. He’s quietly bitter and miserable, loathsome and angry that he must continue to suffer an endlessly repeating cycle. Life has no value to him. Emotions are of no use to him. But there is a hint of a person in there, the person he could’ve been had he not been born into Nocturne and Ade's flock.

⸻Sorcery Information. // Affinity, Talent, etc.

26. Affinity. Creation Root - godhood has its perks ; He has full control over and can source all types and subtypes of magic inherently. 27. Shapeshifting. Innate Hydra - he is neither shapeshifter nor were, but because of the circumstances of his birth, he's an exceptionally unique anthromorph ; He has ascendant capabilities in regards to multishifting (he’s even better than Loux and the Face-Eater combined). 28. Utility. All. 29. Specialization. Ice Element - he’s a Glacial Hydra by rights, so ice would be his primary element, or at least the one he uses and prefers the most as it was the element he was born with. 30. Graduate School. Not applicable. 31. Classification. Mythic Terror, Icewalker, Ichorus Starbeast, Men Bondye - the Hydra with A Thousand Heads ; He is literally a legendary thousand-headed hydra when not confined to his humanoid shape, the cause of many a nightmare. He is immeasurably feared by all nightfolk and non, the mere mention of his long-faded name a cause for immediate descension into madness.

#➥ Hydre.#♞ // Verse: Of Endless Suffering.#/ hydre will probably not have a dedicated backstory in either verse #/ he's meant to be mysterious and no one is supposed to actually *know 100%* who/what he is #/ but it can all be pieced together bit by bit here & in the viostra and worldeater lore posts--#/ like the info's there but i don't wanna spell it out since he's a god and...well backstories don't really matter when the god in question #keeps 1000000% of everything but his appetite to himself

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