#Like it feels like there are so many ways to approach each quest and it's really fun

[zundely]

I've been recently doing something suprising and playing something other then Dragon Age- mainly Divinity Original Sin 2 and... okay am I crazy or the amount of dialogue options vary a lot. Like sometimes I get kinda varied RP choices and really get to think about how my character would approach it (especially in like persuade check situations the variety you get is crazy) and other times it's like... there are 2 options both say roughly the same and I like none of them- thinking specifically to the scene where you talk to others about being chosen by god and Sebille was like "we should be wary about their involvment" and I was like true, my character who repeatedly has shown her distrust of gods would feel the same and when I go to pick the dialogue options all of them seem to be really into the idea of being a chosen one.

[heyimkana]

Come Home to Me (2/2)

Read Part 1 | Read it on AO3

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut, hurt/comfort

Summary: Your husband notices how worried you are about him going on another raid, so he stays for a bit longer to convince you that no matter what happens in the future, he will come home to you.

Word Count: 8K (I wrote too many banters I'm so sorry)

Content Warnings: Semi-public sex, swearing

“Beru, take my daughter inside. I need to be with my wife. Alone.” 

The sudden solemnity that befell your husband’s face and the way his voice, low and heavy, resonated in the air around you smeared goosebumps upon your skin. His tone carried a breath of possessiveness, imbuing life to the slumbering butterflies within your stomach.

“Certainly, my liege,” came the shadow soldier’s immediate response. Shortly after he performed a deep bow, Beru walked into the house with your daughter held tight in his arms, closing the front door behind him to offer you the freedom to speak what your heart truly felt—except you couldn’t. You were scared for a thousand different reasons.

The sun had sunk low enough below the horizon for the darkness to gather, a stroke of purple hue tinging the vast orange sky, ready to wrap the stars with its velvety quilt. Jinwoo might appear nearly transcendent under the evening sun, but nothing embraced him better than the night’s cloak, a fitting companion to a man who carried the undead within his steps. Standing before him in this quietude, you felt like you slowly returned to your old self. Abashed, nervous, losing your tongue in front of a man so handsome, he made your heart ache.

Jinwoo turned to you, his face unreadable, guarded, but there was undoubtedly a gleam of concern residing in his deep blue eyes. He took a stride toward you, his movement soundless against the marbled floor of your porch, the same way death approached those who wished to harm the only person he could call home. “What is it?” he began in a voice so soft, it was almost zephyr-like. His lean fingers circled your wrist like a bracelet, cool to the touch. “You’ve never looked this perturbed before. Did something happen?”

“No,” your answer—your lie—came almost instantly, flawless to anyone’s ears. “Nothing happened.” Behind your clamped teeth, your mind endlessly screamed the words your tongue was itching to say, a desperate plea you tried to veil with everything you had.

Don’t go, Jinwoo, please, just this one time. I have a terrible feeling about this, and I know I can’t prove to you why, but it’s eating me alive. I feel it stronger today, this fear of losing you, of losing the other half of me. I know you want me to bid my farewell with a smile the way I always do, and I’m trying my best to do it even now, but there’s only so much I can keep to myself. I don’t want to say goodbye to my husband, not knowing if it will be the last time I can see his face. So, please… Please stay… Don’t leave me. Don’t go. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Although these thoughts remained unspoken, in Jinwoo’s eyes, they manifested vividly on your face. But he wished to hear them directly, to see them flow past your lips, so he could capture each sentence and turn them into words of comfort. 

“Sweetheart,” he repeated, his voice tender yet authoritative at the same time. “Don’t make me leave you like this. Don’t make me worry about you more than I already do. Tell me. Tell me so I can help.”

He’s right, you thought. Keeping this from him will only make him worry. He can’t afford to get distracted, not now. But when you still kept your lips pressed tight, trying to collect the words, his two fingers framed your chin, leaving you with no choice but to meet his scrutinizing stare. 

He seemed upset. No, more than that, he looked… angry.

The air seemed to shimmer around him as his emotions slowly climbed to the surface, his gaze darkening as his desire to protect you gripped him like a vice. “Did someone hurt you?” Jinwoo questioned you, his voice a deep rumble, crossing through the nearly infinitesimal space between your lips and his like an impending storm. 

You fidgeted. “N-no—”

He tilted your face higher, not letting you break free from his gaze. “I would be able to tell in a heartbeat if someone laid a hand on you, but if there was something that I didn’t know, some clues that I missed, someone who made you feel even slightly unsafe.” His eyes began to gleam; the shadows beneath his feet trembled in fear in the presence of his restrained rage. “I want their names. Now.”

You gulped. This side of him never failed to make shivers crawl down your spine. Jinwoo had always been so gentle and loving with you that it was easy to forget just how vicious and merciless he could be when his protectiveness over you took form. Your husband had killed for your sake before, more than you could possibly count, and he’d take another hundred lives within a blink of your eyes should you ask him to. 

As you released your shuddering breath, you twined your fingers around his wrist. “No.” You tilted your head to the side just enough for your lips to press a soothing kiss against the blue and red rivers of veins under his pasty skin. “It’s not like that. No threats, nothing. I’m safe.”

Relief washed over him, albeit only faintly. “What is it, then?”

You tarried, trying to mince your phrases as best as you could. “I know you can handle anything,” you only began, yet your voice was already cracking with emotions. “I know that, and I believe in your strength. But I saw you, Jinwoo, just like everybody else. I saw the way your enemy stabbed your heart and tore open your chest. You survived. By some miracle, you did. But the sight of it… It haunts me."

You took a breath before you continued. "I find it impossible to sleep at night when you’re not next to me. My mind keeps drifting back to you no matter what I do, wondering if you were fighting for your life again, trapped in a battle you couldn’t win. Sometimes I look at you and…” You laid your hand above his beating heart, your fingers tracing over it as your eyes grew vacant. “I remember the way the beast’s claws pierced through your chest, right here, all five of them. Your body may have healed, and there are no traces of those wounds left on your skin, not even a scar, but… I can still see them. I’m still scared of them. And I can’t help but think… What if it happens again? What if your luck runs out this time?”

Jinwoo continued to stay mute, listening to you intently as if you were the only voice in the universe. He only reacted once quivers ran through your fingertips, seizing your hand and pressing it harder against his chest, as if to remind you that beneath those translucent scars, his heart still remained the same—still alive, beating, racing, because of you, only for you.

You curled your fingers, still couldn’t wash away the dread. “I know you can’t change who you are,” you continued, your voice laced with tears. “And I know you have no other options but to do your duty, which is why I always try my best not to stop you from leaving. But today, for some reason, I feel anxious. It almost feels the same as how I felt on the day I almost lost you. It’s probably nothing, but… Right now, it’s suffocating me.”

The tension was palpable between you, leaving you to ponder whether you had spoken too much. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser for you not to speak at all. You blinked back your tears, wiping the ones that already crossed the edges with the heel of your palm. You felt mortified for baring your feelings out in the open, for being so theatrical about it. 

“I’m sorry. I’m being so dramatic, aren’t I?” You forced out a laugh; the desire to flee the scene was almost too tempting to refuse. It didn’t help that he hadn’t spoken a word, leaving you shrouded by your own perception of his feelings. Have you upset him? Troubled him? Or maybe even hurt him in some way? Just the thought of it brought more fresh tears to emerge in your eyes. 

“I—” You cast your face to the side. “I should go check on our baby—”

Your husband caught you by your wrist, stopping you before you could escape, his touch firm but far from painful. His eyes were hidden underneath the curtain of his raven strands, but the way he pressed his lips so tautly together, enough for them to grow white, clearly indicated how much he took your words seriously.

“I’m scared, too.” 

His confession, spoken barely above a whisper, left you stunned. Out of all the things you thought he’d say at this moment, that was never one of them.

You pivoted around to face him. “Jin… woo..?”

It took him a moment to compose his words as if he lacked the bravery to come clean, to showcase his vulnerability. It was as if he had spent an eternity trying to keep these words all to himself, fighting back all the intentions to reveal this frail side of him to you, afraid of how you’d react, if he’d sadden you with it.

“I’m terrified, Sweetheart,” he repeated, quiet, almost breathlessly. “Not of death, but leaving you.” The lines of his face were strained, filled with consternation. “I know how it feels to lose those important to me. No matter how strong I get, no matter how hard I try, I still can’t protect everyone. I’ve lost my friends in battles. I’ve lost my father. And I nearly lost my mother and my sister, too. I know exactly how it feels, and it haunts me every day more than you could imagine.” 

His face twisted in sadness, almost in agony at the recollection of the precious lives that slipped through his hands, but that amount of pain felt small in comparison to how he felt when he added, “But you…” His fingertips trailed an invisible path down your cheek. “You and our daughter… You’re beyond that. You’re not just my family; you’re fragments of me. The hardest part of my mission is never about dealing with my enemies. It’s this moment right here, right now, bidding you goodbye and watching you smile back at me with your heart breaking in your eyes, thinking that you’d never get to see me again. You’re constantly on my mind, Sweetheart, every second of every day. And I always worry that something will happen to you while I’m gone. That you won’t be here to meet me at the door when I come home. That I’d be too late, and I wouldn’t be able to find you, to save you, even if I searched the whole world for you.” 

His throat felt parched, his voice so close to shattering. “With my power, no matter where you are, no matter how far you are from me, I can run back to you the moment I sense danger around you, but it will take me a second, and a second could change everything. You saw what happened with Jinah, didn’t you? I managed to save her right on time, but if I had arrived only a second later, I would’ve lost her. And if I… If you were in the same position… And I was a second too late on my way back to you… If I lost you forever…” He took one last step toward you, and he crumbled, his body sinking forward, his head falling to your shoulder. “I wouldn’t know how to live my life anymore…” A shaky breath escaped him. “Not without you…”

The amount of fear that radiated through his body was almost appalling. It was hard to believe someone so strong could tremble like this at the thought of losing you.

Jinwoo lifted his head, gathering your face in his hands, his eyes carrying the weight of a broken man. “I know it’s hard for you to watch me leave…” He pressed your foreheads together, his eyes closed in the sliver of bliss from being so close to you, but his eyebrows remained furrowed, tense from the pain and the horror of being separated from the other half of his soul. “And I will never make light of your feelings, but you also need to know just how unbearable it is for me to walk away from you…” 

You squeezed your teeth together behind your lips, your vision blurred by your tears. You could only offer a shaky nod in response, afraid you’d be sobbing if you let a word slip out of you.

“It tears me apart just to kiss you goodbye, Sweetheart.” He returned the small distance between you, gently brushing your tears away with his thumb. “Every single time I leave, it’s like cutting off a piece of me, and you don’t know how much, just how much I want to stay and be with you right now—to spend every second of my life with you, so I can stop you from looking at me with those eyes. So I can put your heart at ease.” He lifted your face just enough to meet your crystalline eyes. “Don’t ever think I want to choose my duty over you. You are always, always, the most important thing in my life.”

It was the first time you saw him so fragile, so exposed, and you could feel just how much your presence in his life affected him. You were his weakness, his only weakness. 

You quickly collected yourself, desperate to assure him. “I know…” Speaking in your softest voice, you reached out to touch him, to cup his cheek, to do anything you could to soothe him even when you, yourself, were so close to breaking. “I know how much you care about me—about us—and I’m happy, Jinwoo. You don’t know how glad I am to have a husband like you. So strong” —you brushed a featherlight kiss on his cheek—“yet, so kind”—on his jawline—“and so, so gentle.” You planted the last one on his lips, as soft and tender as how you whispered his name. “And yes, of course, I understand how hard it is for you. This is why I didn’t want to say anything at first. I didn’t want to make you feel this way. I didn’t want to make you worry more than you already did. And I’m…” You caressed his cheekbone with your thumb. “I’m sorry for speaking my thoughts out loud just now. I shouldn’t have said anything, at least not now when you’re about to leave.”

He let out a sigh under your comforting touch, almost yearning. Covering your hand with his own, he sank his face further into your palm like a child leaning to his mother’s touch. “No, don’t be sorry,” he shook his head, his lids shutting at the feeling of your warmth seeping into his pores. “I’m glad you could be honest with me. Thank you. I can breathe easy now, knowing that you’re safe.”

When he stared down at you, your smile for him was the softest, the sweetest it had ever been. It reminded him almost of his mother’s, the way it carried so much love, affection, adoration, and, most importantly, appreciation. As someone who held nearly limitless power, the constant efforts he made to save the world were never overlooked. Still, more often than not, people chose not to express their gratitude, saying he was merely doing his job as an S-Rank Hunter, taking everything he did for granted. You had seen just how cruel the public voice could be when they spoke ill of him, not long after the Jeju Raid ended.

Hunter Min Byung-Gu’s life could’ve been saved if Sung Jinwoo had appeared sooner! Yeah, where the hell was he anyway? Why didn’t he join the raid from the start? Was he scared? Hey, hey, I heard he refused to join the raid at first. Does he not realize his responsibility as an S-Rank Hunter? Embarrassing, right? S-Rank Hunters are supposed to be selfless heroes! Sung Jinwoo is not one of them!

Your husband never let these derisions get to him, but they got to you. It pained you, angered you to see these words spreading online like wildfire, but you couldn’t do much to change their opinions, and even if you could, it wouldn’t have mattered. Jinwoo never cared about them. He cared about you, about what you think of him, and fortunately for him, you were always there to appreciate every little thing he did. He didn’t have to save the world to impress you. You were already grateful for his presence, even just by seeing him plant a little kiss on your daughter’s head. 

“Thank you, Jinwoo,” you softly said, “for making the world a better place for me and our daughter to live in. But more than that, thank you for all the efforts you made as my husband and as the father of our child. For making time for us even when you were losing sleep, drained after all the raids. I’m sure your baby is grateful, too, for all the tea parties you had with her.”

He laughed a little, still carrying a hint of melancholy. “She can be quite demanding sometimes.”

“Yes, she can, but you’re always patient with her, and I adore you for that.” You stroked his cheek. “You’re a hero to us in more ways than one. You’re everything we want you—need you to be, and for that, I’ll always be grateful to you.”

His jaws clasped together like a floodgate, preventing his emotions from bursting beyond control. He nodded once, a bit bashful but visibly delighted by your lines. With a quiet giggle, you kissed the tip of his nose. “What, getting shy now?”

He responded with a chuckle, pretty roses blooming in his cheeks. “No, I’m just happy. You always know what to say to lift the weight off my shoulders. And I wish I could say something to ease your mind, too, but…” He broke away from your touch, returning your gaze. “I don’t know what the future holds for me. I can lie to you and tell you that nothing could harm me, but I know you wouldn’t want that. So, all I can offer you right now is my promise.” He brought your hand closer to his face, his lips engraving the words directly to the bumps of your knuckles. “I promise that I will do anything, everything within my power, to come home to you.”

Your heart still splintered, but it wasn’t nearly as agonizing anymore. Perhaps it was all due to his vow. Or maybe you’ve learned how to withstand the pain, to welcome it as a part of you, knowing it was something you couldn’t chase away, something that would only be repeated in the future. “Jinwoo—”

A pair of soft lips captured your own, your face held, your words stolen. The sudden kiss was chaste, almost innocent, just pure romance beneath the bitterness of a farewell. Jinwoo pulled away but only barely, the tip of his nose still grazing your cheek. 

“I love you,” he whispered, his warm breath, sweet and intoxicating, fanning your lips. “I love you so much, Sweetheart, more than I could bear.”

You looked up at him, your heartbeat roaring in your ears. “I love you, too.” 

Another kiss, another soft touch from a man you’d sworn to love unconditionally. But the gentleness of your colliding lips, the innocence of it, could never last long, always replaced by something more arduous. A hint of his longing for you, his craving, showed in the way he molded your lips beneath his, and within seconds, his kiss turned deep, controlling, consuming. His arm slithered around your waist, pressing your body close against him, tight enough for you to wonder if you could just melt into him, be a part of him. Perhaps then, you could be wherever he was. A world where you don’t have to bid him goodbye… Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

His breathing turned uneven by the time he ended the kiss, enthralled and far from satisfied. And just like him, you couldn’t do much but stare at the shape of his pretty mouth in your haze.

“You asked me if I’d let the world burn for you.” His voice turned raspy, hoarse with need, his eyes watching the way his thumb glided over your slicked lips. He pressed down on your bottom one, and you parted your mouth in response, an act so natural, it made his gaze heavy with lust. “I’d do it,” he said, stealing your breath with it. “I’d watch the world burn to the ground just to be with you for a second longer. All you need to do is say the words.”

Your eyes turned round, your heart thrashing inside your ribcages. You could see the conviction in his eyes, giving you as much joy as the fear that dawned upon you. 

The safety of the world did not lie in Sung Jinwoo’s hands. It was in yours. 

Your ardent love, intense and overflowing, rushed to your hands, crumpling the front of his coat as you brought him back to you for another taste of his lips. You pulled your husband down to you, to where he belonged, to where he should stay, your mouth meeting his in a searing kiss. You were the gravity that pulled him in, the spark of fire to reignite the flames within him. And you wanted to kiss him forever, to have his hands on your body, to be close enough for you to—

Jinwoo suddenly stiffened in your arms, breaking off the kiss so abruptly that it left your mind reeling for a second. A frown sketched over the lines in his forehead, irritation glinting in his eyes. 

Your heart plummeted, unsure of what you did wrong. “W-what is it?”

“Nothing,” he sighed exasperatedly, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I just heard Igris talking in my ear, reminding me of my schedule. What time is it now?” He lifted his wrist, glancing at the silver watch. “Damn it.” He clicked his tongue; his vexation doubled. “I guess I really have to go.” But his eyes, like always, found their way home to you, and he took you in once more, this breathtaking view of you with your face flushed, your lips all red and bruised and glistening with his spit. “And it’s probably better if I leave now before I get, umm…” He noticeably swallowed, trying to rein in the desire to take you here against the wall. “Carried away.”

With flames kissing your cheeks, you tossed your stare to the floor. “Y-You’re right. Sorry.”

“‘Sorry?’” Jinwoo tittered, the sound soft and wonderful in your ears. Lifting your face by the chin, he tilted his head slightly to the side, adoring you. “It was my pleasure, Sweetheart.”

His smirk, his voice… He seemed so effortlessly sexy when he said it that it turned you sheepish. You removed yourself from him. “S-so, umm… When will you be back again exactly?”

“Six days from now. A week, maybe.”

Your shoulders sagged. He could’ve said six years, and it would probably sound just as torturous. “Okay…”

“Come on, baby,” he smiled softly despite his heart breaking just the same. “Don’t be like this.” He rubbed his knuckles against your cheek before he poked you lightly with his finger, making you giggle from it. “I’ll make it up to you once I get home, okay? Anything you want me to do—anything at all—I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

His previously impish smile fully morphed into a devilish grin. “Anything.”

“Hopefully, it’s not something sexual,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at him.

“Hopefully, it is.” His chuckles didn't last long, followed shortly by a heavy sigh. “Can I hug my wife one last time?”

You stilled, your breath caught in your throat. “It’s not the last time.” 

He blinked before he understood his mistake, sadness coating the soft bow of his lips once he did. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.” He spread his arms wide, waiting for you to return to his warmth with the softest smile on his face. “I mean, can I hug you one more time before I go? And touch you endlessly once I get home?”

Contentment suffused you at once, and you answered him by carving the shape of your smile against his lips, your fingers coiled against the front of his coat. You made sure to keep your kiss light, not wanting to repeat the same mistake of drowning in desire. You weren’t sure you could escape it should it happen again. But even so, when you parted from him, you couldn’t deny the tension between you. Like magnets, you were drawn together. Just the slightest brush of your skin meeting his could turn it into a force beyond your control.

You tried to distract him—or rather, yourself. “H-hey, you said Igris talked to you before. Does that mean he… saw what we were doing?” This was the first time it happened, as Jinwoo had always been careful in the past not to let his shadow soldiers witness your intimate acts. Whenever you two were together, your husband would always command his army to shut down all their senses for a moment, to give you the privacy you needed. You weren’t sure why Igris could see you now, but the thought horrified you. “I’ve always been awkward with him because he doesn’t talk much and seems so… noble. If he saw us kissing like that, I… I don’t think I could face him again. Especially after…” You kept on rambling, driven out of shame, submerged at the thought of seeing the dark knight again after he witnessed everything that happened between you and his master.

Unbeknownst to you, Jinwoo’s eyes darkened, completely lost in the view. Seeing you like this, standing so small and fidgety before him, looking so flustered that you couldn’t handle meeting his eyes when you spoke—

God, I want to ruin her. 

I want to make her all mine again. 

His nails scraped against his palm as he tried to find restraint, his throat burning with the desire to claim you, to taste you, to drink everything you give him. You were asking him a question, weren’t you? Something about Igris. Fuck, he couldn’t remember it. He couldn’t pay attention to any of the lines you said, watching how your mouth shaped the words but not registering them. Your voice was a whisper in his ear, easily drowned by the filthy thoughts that grew even more vehemently with each second passing by.

“Honey?”

At your call, he averted his gaze. One more second looking at you, and he would’ve succumbed to his needs. “Hmm?”

“I asked you if Igris saw us.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Yes, they saw it.”

“Wait—They?”

“Yeah, the entire army, basically.” Though he wanted to seem apologetic, his grin betrayed him. “I was too absorbed with you that I forgot to tell them to close their eyes.”

You gaped, colors draining fast from your face. “Jinwoo! ”

He laughed quietly at your reaction, catching the little punches you threw to his chest.  “Baby, relax. So what if they saw us kissing? You’re my love.”

Your stomach somersaulted at the word he chose. He could’ve just said my wife instead of my love. It would've been easier for your heart. “Well, I don’t want them to see that…” Another pout, another wild urge he had to chase away before he bruised your lips with his own. You exhaled. For some reason, you felt exhausted. “Though it’s… sweet how Igris tried to keep you from running late. That should’ve been my job. Did he just pop up, tell you to go, and then disappear again?” The vision of it looked funny in your head because surely, he must’ve been embarrassed seeing us like that, right?

“Actually, he told me to stay.” Your husband wound his arms around your waist, drawing you closer before he rested them on your curves. “He said that I should just send him there and let him take care of the gate for me. So I can be here with my queen.”

“‘Your queen?”’ You repeated, couldn’t help but feel amused even though you were touched by how caring the dark knight was to your family.

Scarlet tinged his cheek. “His words, not mine.”

“I see. So, I’m not your queen, then?”

The shade deepened as he tossed his face to the side. “Of”—he cleared his throat, his voice reducing to a mumble—“Of course, you are.”

You giggled, and your husband softened into another smile, staring at you affectionately. He seemed glad that you’d rediscovered the strength to throw a jest or two. 

“Well, as much as I don’t wish for my king to go,” you dawdled with your words, building expectations as you glided one hand up his chest. You could feel the ridges of his lean, taut muscles underneath his shirt. A wave of desire pooled inside your stomach, threatening to resurface if you weren’t being careful. “The world needs him. Even if I keep you to myself now, you’re bound to leave for another mission sooner or later. I’ve come to realize that…” You paused to gain control of your emotions, your hands fixing his collar in your attempt to seek distraction. “The best way to deal with this is by getting myself used to it. Get used to this feeling that you leave me when you kiss me goodbye. I have to teach myself to be patient, as it will only be a matter of time before my husband returns. I think that’s what I have to do,” you smiled at him, shy amidst the mischievousness that you previously displayed. “As your queen.”

His heart thawed at your lines, cradling you close enough by the shoulders to bury his face in your hair, breathing in your scent, memorizing it so he could recall this sense of peace you gave him when he was miles away from you. Even without words, you could tell just how proud he was of you. “Thank you,” he murmured against your temple. He kept you this way for a moment, his nose nuzzling against your strands until he remembered how time would never be merciful to him. “I really have to go, baby…”

“I know…”

But when he pulled away, he couldn’t find the strength to detach his gaze from you, caught in a conflict between his feelings and his responsibility. “I’ll be…”—he traced your cheek, his gaze falling to your lips—“back soon, okay…?”

You nibbled at the corner of your lip, causing him to nearly groan at the sight. You didn’t mean to entice him; you were just nervous under his hooded gaze, your body brimming with anticipation. You knew he wanted another kiss, another touch, and you wanted thousands of them, but— “Okay…”

Jinwoo moved closer, as close as he could be, his face hovering merely a few inches from yours. Nothing but desire resided in his eyes, his voice low and husky when he spoke, “Don’t miss me too much…”

It was like the air crackled between you, invisible hands drawing you together. Your fingers twined a little tighter around the front of his coat, itching to tug him down and erase the millimeters of space separating your lips. “I’ll try…” You replied with shivers in your breath, and in a moment of weakness, your gaze cascaded to his lips.

And seeing that, he snapped.

All shadows. Leave us. Now.

“Jin—mmph!” You were pushed back against the wall, your body lifted to your toes, and your lips devoured. He couldn’t do it. Whatever battle he was fighting inside, he lost it the moment he realized you wanted him just the same, and he didn’t care. You were still his prize to claim, your taste was his to consume, your warmth was his to take, and he drowned in you almost instantly, his fingers possessively grabbing your face, leaving you with no choice but to accept his kiss, to accept whatever it was he planned to give you. 

Without wasting a second, he wedged his knee between your legs, parting them open and having his thigh pressed firmly against your core. You gasped against his mouth, your body clinging onto him, shuddering at the thrilling sensation. “J-Jinwoo—”

“I know,” he replied shortly, almost in a growl, breathless against your mouth. “I need you, too, so just—” He pressed your body tight against him, his lips placed upon yours again with such urgency as if being separated from you for merely a second deprived him of all the oxygen he needed.

The last thread of restraint in your head forced you to place your hands on his chest. Despite your aching need to rub yourself against his thigh, you voiced your thoughts aloud between lustful kisses. “Wait—we shouldn’t—mmph—”

With a grunt, he removed your hands from him, pinning them against the wall as he ceaselessly devoured your mouth. He kept you that way, trapped and caged within his hold. “Y-you have to go,” you managed to whimper out, your body tensing as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down your throat.

Jinwoo finally broke away, his face flushed, painted over with nothing but ardor. “Want me to stop?”

Your heart thrashed wildly inside your chest. The huskiness in his voice, the way his breathing turned heavy at the sight of you—what women would say no?

“Come here.” You pulled him back to you, begged him for another kiss, a wish that he was so eager to comply. Struggling to match his pace, you found yourself clawing at the back of his trench coat, one of your legs hooking around his thigh as he pushed your dress up to your stomach, revealing more soft skin and supple flesh for him to grip and sink his nails into. He grunted against your neck, a string of expletives among sinful praises, and you shut your eyes, head thrown back at the thrill of having him act so needy, so desperate for you. 

You couldn’t care about anything, not anymore, but your memory recalled the sour look he made when he checked on his watch a moment ago. How much time do we have until he really needs to go? “Jinwoo—ah—” You felt his teeth grinding not so gently against your skin, marking you as if he wanted to leave something for you to remember him by, to ache for in your wake. “W-what time should you be leaving—”

His fingers circled your throat, holding you dominantly in his grip. “Ten minutes ago. Open your mouth.”

He deepened the kiss as soon as you parted your lips for him, moaning at the burst of your taste on his tongue. You welcomed his taste with a gasp, your hands now crawling up his nape, his hair, making a nest out of his strands the same way he made a mess out of you. His tongue delved inside, begging for a sliver of your sweetness, but you wanted to give him everything, and you did, your tongue sliding against his own, kissing him as if this was your last time to remember just how amazing he felt against you, lips to lips, tongue to tongue, body to body. All the fear you had over his departure, all the love you held for him, they dissolved into one, into this burning ache that permeated your core, the need to have him close.

And God, you wanted more, wanted him so badly, it felt like torture.

“Fuck,” Jinwoo groaned, followed quickly by a low moan of your name. He was really trying to hold back, to only settle down for a kiss or two, but— “Why do you have to be so goddamn irresistible all the time?”

He was suffering just the same, one hand slamming against the door to maintain his distance, to keep him away from crushing you, from becoming one with you. It balled into a fist, evidence of what was left of his self-control; his fingers clenched so tightly that it painted his knuckles white and his palm crimson. His other arm snaked around your waist as his mouth sucked bruises on your collarbone, his nails clawing against the fabric of your dress, eager to tear it apart right then, right there. Rough, sinful noises continued to stream past his lips as you brought your lower half even closer to him, the sound low and deep; it was almost primal. 

“Ngh, baby, please—” He pleaded with his eyebrows sewn together, his jaw slackening at the sensation of you pushing your hips back, grinding on him. You could feel just how hard he was beneath his pants, the contour of his cock nudging deliciously against your clothed heat. It excited you, your heart swelling in satisfaction at how fast you could turn the most powerful man in the world into a desperate lover with only a few touches. Only you had this power over him, and he made sure to worship you for it.

His body reacted instinctively, rocking his hips against yours, quickly taking over control. Somewhere in the labyrinth of your mind, a voice reminded you to stop, he’s already late as it is, and you can’t do this here, not outside, not for everyone’s eyes to see, but when Jinwoo caught your earlobe between his teeth, his voice dangerous and guttural when he said, “God, Sweetheart, you don’t know how much I want to be inside you right now,” all you could think was—

Yes, please.

You smashed your lips against his, your fingers tugging hard at the roots of his hair, robbing another shameless moan out of him. He welcomed your burning passion, reciprocating it by doubling the intensity. None of you gave a damn where you were or what time it was; none of it mattered, not anymore. You just needed him, and he needed you. Not just want. Need.

Jinwoo unclasped his belt with one hand while keeping hold of your face with the other; his movements rushed, lacking the usual grace that he normally exuded. You were sure he didn’t mean to tear your lingerie apart, but even if he did, it would’ve only added more fuel to the shimmering flames inside you. Now that your bottom half was bare and exposed, he took himself out of his confinement, holding his length in one hand, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he rubbed his tip against your protruding clit.

You shivered, your hips swaying on their own, begging him to just ram it inside. “Jinwoo, please.”

“You’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he growled, lifting your body higher on the wall, making you hold on to nothing but him to fight back gravity. “Arms around my neck,” he commanded, his mouth hot against your jawline. His coat slid off his shoulders as he positioned himself over your entrance, pooling around his elbows.

But then, Jinwoo slowed down amidst the heat of your passion, just for a moment. Even as his desire consumed him from within, your consent remained a top priority. He needed to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you or, worse, doing anything you didn’t want him to. Your husband took a second to look at you, wanting you to give your permission out loud even when all his heightened senses and perceptions had found their answer a while ago. “Can I have you?”

Your reply came in the shape of you carding your fingers through his locks again, your mouth colliding with his as you spread your legs a little wider. “Yes,” you breathed out. “I need you, please—oh!” 

You felt him pushing himself inside the second your plea left your mouth, stretching all of your walls at once. 

“Ah, fuck,” Jinwoo groaned deep and loud, slamming one hand against the wall, the vein in his neck popping from beneath his pale skin. His reaction was almost as if he’d never experienced such pleasure before, his body trembling at the feeling of your heat tightening around him, so drenched inside that you could take him—his everything—all in one go. “God, you feel so good.” He locked your lips together again, moaning at the feeling of being shrouded by your warmth. He moved his hips tentatively to ensure your comfort, but he surrendered immediately after the first try. “Sorry, Sweetheart, I don’t think I can—ngh—hold back—” 

He began to move, his teeth nibbling on the skin of your shoulder to contain his grunts, his hips thrusting fast and rough, sliding himself in and out of you in the desperation of a heated beast seeking a release. Just like him, you were feeling it much more than anything you’d ever done with him. Maybe it was the place, the sensation of doing something so indecent, so out in the open. Maybe it was because you were both trying so desperately to comfort yourselves, to forget your upcoming separation, even only for a moment. Or maybe it was simply because you loved him so ardently, the same way he did about you. 

Now that the sun had sunk entirely below the horizon, the night was nearly pitch black. No stars were in sight, as if they grew too shy to witness something so obscene. Detecting the darkness around you, the lights around the house switched on automatically, illuminating the entryway and the lush garden around you with a warm, romantic glow. The magical view of the scenery usually brought a sense of serenity to your heart, but no, not that night. Not when you were stuck in a very compromising position with your husband. The worst one of all was the three pendant lights shining brightly above you, dangling from your high ceilings, exposing the way your bodies rocked together in rapid, rhythmless motions for the whole world to see.

You couldn’t help but be distracted by them, your body tensing. If anyone were passing by, with the way your husband had you pinned against the wall, your heels digging to the small of his back, your fingers tugging on the roots of his hair, they would discover you in a heartbeat. 

“J-Jinwoo—wait—the lights—”

With his lips sucking hard bruises on your neck, Jinwoo lifted one hand in the air and clenched his fingers into a fist. All the lightbulbs shattered at once, their sounds piercing the air, stealing a surprised yelp out of you, which he silenced immediately with his mouth. The same invisible force shielded you from the pieces of glass raining down from the ceiling, leaving your heart rattling in your chest but your skin uninjured.

You were embraced by the darkness again, though it was never as thick as you would love it to be. The silver moonlight still bathed your skin, and the golden shine of the bollard lights surrounding your garden remained bright enough for you to discern your husband’s features, but at least, you no longer felt like you were standing under the spotlight. You still couldn’t entirely chase your anxiety away, however, and noticing that, Jinwoo captured your face, his fingers pressed firmly on each side of your jaw.

"Focus on me,” he said, palm plastered against the front of your throat. Although pain was absent from his touch, his hold on you was firm, controlling, his voice commanding. “I don’t want you to think about anything else. Keep your eyes on me. Focus on how I’m making you feel right now.” 

And it felt good. He made you feel so damn good that by the time he plunged himself deep into you again, you found yourself crying out against his mouth, clutching onto him like a lifeline. Jinwoo was just as deep in rapture as you were, unintentionally ripping the top buttons of your dress in his desperation to taste more of your skin. He was beyond aggressive, unrestrained, and impatient, and God, you loved it. You couldn’t remember the last time he was like this, and the feelings brought you quickly to ecstasy. 

You were close, your pleasure building up faster than it ever did. “Jinwoo, I’m—”

“I know,” he moaned against your shoulder, his teeth just one pressure away from sinking into your flesh. “I’m close too, angel, just a little bit… ngh… more…”

He quickened his pace, taking his cock completely out of you only to drive himself back to the hilt, each thrust hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. You fell over the edge with your lips parted in a silent moan, your nails scraping against the back of his shirt, your legs shaking, tautening around him as you reached cloud nine.

The sensation of your walls closing in around his cock was almost too much to bear, but he needed that one single push, just one sweet moan from you in the shape of his name, to make him grasp that vigorous wave of euphoria. “Sweetheart, please—”

Knowing exactly what he was begging for, you embraced him closely by the neck, gripped his soft locks beneath your fingers, and whispered the words he’d been dying to hear right against his mouth.

“I love you, Jinwoo.” 

He shuddered, his skin breaking into goosebumps, and he finished inside you with a deep, gravelly groan erupting from the back of his throat. His hips stuttered, slowing down but not yet stopping until he finished spilling everything inside. His breaths came out raggedly, hot against your neck. His left hand was still glued to the wall beside your head. 

As your tremors began to dissipate, your husband carefully placed you back on your feet, holding you close until you could stand on your own. Your legs felt like jelly beneath your weight, your strength leaving you after experiencing what might be one of the most mind-blowing orgasms you’d ever had.

“That was… intense,” Jinwoo tittered breathlessly, his hair all tousled, his face the prettiest shade of pink. It mesmerized you just how stunning he looked like this, and it satisfied you more than anything to know that you would always be the one—the only one—who could see this side of him, who could bring this side of him into view. Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you. The way you stood there, gazing up at him with your starry eyes slightly watery from your orgasm, your dress torn and crumpled, your skin marked and claimed. He could easily go for another round—or three—if you let him.

“You okay?” He asked as he swatted the stray strands out of your eyes, helping you with your dress before he fixed his own attire. You nodded a bit drunkenly, and he let out another chuckle before planting a soft kiss on your temple. “I’m sorry for ruining your dress.”

“And my panties,” you added, snatching the torn fabric away from your heel. You stared flatly at it, your tone monotonous when you said, “Unbelievable. This is the third time, Jinwoo. Three times you’ve done this to me."

He was embarrassed by it. So cute. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not sorry,” you teased him with a poke on his cheek. “Buy me another one? The dress, I mean. I don’t trust you with my lingerie after what you bought me last time.”

He laughed softly at the memory. “I’ll buy you the prettiest one. Promise.” Brushing a light kiss on your temple, he spoke his worry once more. “How are you feeling? Did I hurt you?” 

The genuine concern in his tone caused your joy to unfold. In all honesty, yes, he did, but every pain was welcomed—no, every pain was desired, and you wished you could have more. More consuming kisses that left your lips swollen. More love bites on your neck that would last until he returned home. More bruises on your hips and thighs from how hard he was holding you. It felt nice to be dominated, to be owned, to be so wanted by your husband that he lost control of himself, of his mind. 

“What?” Jinwoo raised a brow, looking at you funny. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Nothing,” you replied with a sheepish smile, stroking his cheek. But with him looking at you with such confusion in his eyes, you felt like you owed him the truth. “I just realized you never fucked me this way before, and it scares me just how much I enjoyed it.”

He blushed at your words, so fervently that you wondered if this was the same man who had just mounted you like a beast in heat a moment ago. But then he laughed, the sound so delicate and pretty in your ears. “I was going to apologize for being carried away, but…” He bent his head down, bringing himself to your eye level as a smirk crept up his lips. “If that’s what you’re into, then I have so much more in store for you.”

You swallowed, your skin tingling with excitement at the thought. “W-we can try that after you get home. Don’t you have a plane to catch?”

“Shit, you’re right.” As unbelievable as it was, he had truly forgotten about it. Jinwoo hastily rummaged through his pocket for his car key, racing against time. “Okay, I’ll be leaving now.” He kissed you quickly, almost making you stumble from how fast he was grabbing your face. “Goodbye, love. I’ll see you soon.”

“Jinwoo, wait,” you giggled, tugging him back by his arm. “You got my lipstick all over you.” You rubbed your thumb over his lips, trying to wipe off the red stain. “And your hair’s mess. Do you have a comb with you?”

“It’s all right, I love it like this.” He tossed you a boyish smile. “It feels like I’m carrying a part of you with me, like some kind of proof that reminds me of what we just did.” He then continued in a whisper, his smirk grazing your earlobe. “The same way you’re carrying a part of me… inside you.”

You grew mortified, all due to his words and the feeling of his essence seeping out of you. You could feel it trickling down your thigh before you squeezed your legs together, face aflame. “Leave. Now.” You whirled his body around, shoving him forward. “And tell your shadow soldiers to help me change the lights. I can’t believe you used your skill for that.”

He tossed you a grin over his shoulder. “Gotta make the best use of what I have, Sweetheart.” 

“I don’t think Igris would be happy to know that you’re using Ruler's Hand for sex.”

“Oh, baby, trust me, if I were planning to use Ruler’s Hand for sex, bursting lightbulbs would be at the bottom of the list.” His smirk carried the promise of something lewd, something naughty. “And also, if I’m happy, all my soldiers are happy, Igris included. And I’m definitely happy right now, all thanks to my sweet girl.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you snorted despite heat filling your cheeks. “Now go before Jinho kills you.” 

He chortled softly, “Yes, Ma’am.” 

You watched him stride away with your hands on your hips, sighing despite the way your lips curved up in amusement. You were going to miss these little banters you have. Some parts of you still refused to let him go, but when Jinwoo rolled down his window, giving you one last smile with one hand on the steering wheel, all you could say was, “Come home to me, darling.”

“I will, baby.”

And as he drove into the night, disappearing from your sight and leaving your heart lamenting in your chest, you knew you had no choice but to put your faith in him. This wouldn’t be the last time you see him. It would never be. Jinwoo would make sure of that.

Because if he had to watch the world burn for it, for you, then so be it. 

Heaven or hell, Gods or the Devils, I’ll destroy them all.

As long as I can come home to you, Sweetheart, nothing else matters. ***

[ninisdollie]

brighter days - park sunghoon 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ . Demigods series

Synopsis: Park Sunghoon, the forbidden son of Zeus, is admired and respected by everyone at halfblood camp, but he prefers to keep to himself and avoid the crowds. With his reserved and somewhat grumpy attitude, his peace is constantly interrupted by your relentless energy, the daughter of Apollo. Outgoing, cheerful, and full of life, you never miss an opportunity to approach Sunghoon, who knows you have a crush on him. However, his temper and desire to maintain his distance lead him to reject you time and time again. Despite his attempts to avoid you, Sunghoon begins to notice that, behind your spark and laughter, there is more than just a girl chasing him. As he struggles to maintain his wall of coldness, you, with your boundless light, are determined to break it, proving that even the coldest heart can be touched by the warmth of the sun.

Content: +18MDNI fem!reader x sunghoon, pjo au! zeus' son! sunghoon x apollos daughter! reader, grumpy x sunshine plot, smut, kind of enemies to lovers but not really, virgin! reader, fluffy ending, explicit sex.

hate comments will be deleted and blocked, like and reblogs are appreciated !!

The clang of metal echoed across the training arena, rhythmic and sharp, slicing through the warm afternoon air like thunder before a storm. Camp Half-Blood buzzed with life in the distance, shouts from capture the flag, laughter near the strawberry fields, but here, near the sparring dummies, stood Park Sunghoon.

Broad shoulders tense, dark brows furrowed, and golden light catching on the sweat along his jawline, he looked like he was carved from Olympus itself. Each movement was flawless. Precise, deadly. He swung his celestial silver sword with a controlled rage that made the ground beneath him feel electric.

You watched him from behind the archery pavilion, propping your chin on your hand as you ignored the bow resting in your lap. The way he moved, like the storm he carried in his veins, untouchable, unbothered, beautiful, had your heart doing all sorts of embarrassing things.

“He’s gonna catch you staring again,” Taki, your brother muttered, nudging you.

“I hope he does,” you grinned, unashamed. “Maybe this time he’ll finally realize it’s love.”

Everyone at camp knew you had a thing for the forbidden son of Zeus. How could you not? Sunghoon wasn’t just a demigod—he was the demigod. Taken in at five after monsters nearly tore him apart outside the safety of camp borders. Trained harder than anyone, rose higher than any other camper. And at eighteen, while most of you were still sneaking out for midnight snacks, he was off saving Olympus on a solo quest that made the gods themselves tremble, some swore Ares himself had a battle with him and turned out coming out wounded. Because he was that strong, that fierce, that powerful. Others said his power was actually a curse, because he could never leave camp for more than a few hours, every monster, every enemy was after him, they wanted the most dangerous Demigod dead. And even with that, Sunghoon walked around so relaxed, so confident, it was like he wasn’t scared of anything in the world, and you admired him so much because of that.

He was just a dream.

And you? You were the complete opposite. Apollo’s favorite daughter, according to literally everyone. You could shoot an arrow through the wings of a fly at fifty feet, compose a haiku in ten seconds flat. You had tons of friends from all cabins, and some swore the sunshine followed you wherever you moved, or even better, that you were the sunshine. Always happy, always smiling, always talking to much and laughing with your whole chest. You trained a lot, you really did, after all you were like every other demigod, you wished for glory and power too, but still, you had enough energy to flirt shamelessly with Sunghoon in front of the entire camp. A girl can have hobbies, right?

He’d rejected you so many times, you’d lost count. He scowled, rolled his eyes, muttered things under his breath and turned on his heel before you could finish half a sentence. He was never super mean to you though, he just wasn’t like that, and you knew he found you extremely annoying, but he never really said it, because you knew he was good, he had a good heart beneath that cold facade.

Still, you chased him. Not just because he was handsome (though gods, was he. With his dark hair and his perfect skin and his thick eyebrows and that damn mole you so wanted to kiss), but because every time you looked into his stormy eyes, you swore you saw something flicker. Like lightning trying to break free from thunderclouds.

So yeah, maybe everyone thought you were wasting your time.

But you were the sun. And even the coldest storms couldn’t outrun the morning light forever.

Your eyes trailed down the line of his arm as he twisted to strike again, the muscles beneath his skin rippling with each perfect swing. It was like watching war poetry in motion. And okay, maybe you should’ve been practicing too, but what was a daughter of Apollo if not a shameless admirer of beauty?

You sighed dramatically. “He’s just so—”

“Grumpy?” your sibling offered, not even looking up from their quiver. “Emotionally unavailable? Terrified of human connection?”

“Hot,” you finished with a dreamy smile.

He snorted. “Tragic.”

But then, just as you were mid-swoon, Sunghoon paused. Not dramatically, not like a movie, just the smallest hitch in movement. His shoulders stiffened, his grip faltered. And then, ever so slightly, he turned his head.

Your heart stopped.

For a split second, your eyes met.

Oh, gods.

His gaze was unreadable, intense, stormy, laced with the kind of quiet warning that made your skin prick. You blinked, heart stammering. His eyes dropped to your bow, then flicked back up to your face like he was mentally calculating how much time you’d spent staring instead of training.

Then—

He rolled his eyes, annoyed.

You squeaked. Like actually squeaked. Heat flooded your face as you slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my gods,” you hissed under your breath. “He saw me. I looked like a total stalker.”

“You are a stalker,” Taki whispered with a grin.

You buried your face in your hands, groaning into your palms. “Why does he have to be so pretty when he’s annoyed?! That’s so unfair.”

When you dared peek through your fingers, Sunghoon had already turned away. Back to training. Back to pretending you didn’t exist.

But you saw it.

The tiniest twitch of his mouth.

A smirk.

And just like that, your day was made.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

Sunghoon hated a lot of things.

He hated sunny days, because it was so hot and sweaty that he could barely stand being in his own skin. He hated dumb people. He hated loud music, because his ears were sensitive even if he was literally born from the god of lighting. He hated the camp t-shirt, because he also hated the color orange. He hated Ares children, because they were violent for literally no reason. He hated wars, hated problems, hated people hungry for power. Like every other demigod, like every other god. Like his own father.

Zeus.

The name sat like acid in his mouth. The god of gods. King of Olympus. The one whose power shook the skies. The one who should have been proud of him.

But he never was.

People at Camp Half-Blood whispered about Sunghoon like he was some kind of legend. The forbidden son. The lightning in human form. The boy who went on a solo quest at eighteen and returned with scars no one asked about. Everyone wanted to be around him, everyone respected and admired him, everyone looked at him as if he was the best warrior to ever exist, and probably he was, to the eyes of everybody.

But they didn’t know. They had no idea what that quest really was.

They thought it was glory, honor. A chance to prove himself.

But it wasn’t. It was a setup. A battlefield dressed up as a trial. Monsters he could handle—he’d been fighting them since he was five. But gods?

Even he couldn’t see that betrayal coming.

It was Zeus himself who tried to strike him down.

Not Cronus. Not some ancient titan rising from the depths.

His own father.

Because Sunghoon was too powerful, because thunder cracked when he screamed, because storms listened to him when he was angry, because the sky shook when he bled. Because he was born with a power not even himself could be able to control fully.

And gods didn’t like things they couldn’t control.

So Zeus tried to erase him. Sent him to die alone and made sure it looked like a test of strength. A rite of passage.

Sunghoon survived. Barely. He clinged onto life with blood and nails and teeth, and he ended up returning as a hero.

But something in him had died out there. Something soft. Something warm. The most painful and deadly betrayal he’d ever faced, permanent wounds that weren’t just physical, and the constant, eternal feeling of failure. For everyone else, he was a hero, but for himself, he was just the son that had a father who not only hadn't care about him his whole life, but also hated him. And that, that’s what truly killed every last drop of warm light inside of him.

Now all that was left was discipline, blade, and silence. He spent his days training, getting better, until his body physically couldn’t take it anymore, until the constant thoughts in his head went away. He enjoyed it, he really did. He liked his quiet life, and for most of the times, he could ignore he was the child of the storm.

Well, mostly. Because his quiet life was constantly interrupted by you.

Gods, you.

Y/N.

The golden girl. Apollo’s favorite. Laughter in human form. You were everything he didn’t understand, everything he didn’t trust.

Too bright. Too curious. Too persistent.

You talked too much. You asked too many questions. You walked around under the sunlight, bathing you like a second skin, you trained with a permanent smile in your lips, you joked around, you sang your favorite songs with your whole chest, you played the lyre with delicate fingers, you laughed too loud, you were shameless and energetic and annoying and…

And you smiled at him like he hadn’t been hardened by betrayal. Like you could fix him.

But you couldn’t. No one could.

Still…

Still, his eyes found your earlier today when you thought he wasn’t looking. Bow in hand, sunlight catching the highlights in your hair, that little furrow in your brow when you concentrated—

You were good. Insanely good. Your arrows moved like light itself, precise, fast, radiant.

You belonged to the sun. To music. To warmth. Everyone adored you, everyone liked you.

He had no business watching you the way he did.

But sometimes, he did anyway.

Until you opened your mouth.

Then it was over.

Because every word that came out of you was so… you. Bubbly, relentless, stubbornly optimistic. And he just didn’t know what to do with that kind of joy. Didn’t trust it. Didn’t understand how someone could be so untouched by the same kind of rot that lived inside him. How a daughter of a god could be like this, he even maybe felt envious.

So he rolled his eyes. He walked away. He told himself over and over that he couldn’t stand you.

But he still looked.

And that terrified him more than anything.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

The first time you confessed to Sunghoon, you were ten.

It was a warm summer afternoon, and you were sweaty, grass-stained, hair messy and tangled, and absolutely, irrationally determined. Sunghoon, twelve years old and already taller than every other kid in the arena, was off by himself near the creek, sharpening a blade that was nearly the size of his torso. His face was serious. Focused. A tiny storm cloud in the body of a boy.

You marched up with a flower crown in your hand, one that you made with help from the Aprhodite girls, chest puffed out, heart thumping like a war drum.

“Hey!” you’d chirped, practically vibrating with excitement.

He glanced up, brows twitching just enough to show he was already tired of this conversation.

“What?” his tone was cold, too cold, but you still melted.

“I like you.” you just said, biting your lip, squirming in your heels.

There was a beat of silence. A frog croaked in the creek. Somewhere, a Hermes kid screamed about a beehive.

Sunghoon stared at you.

“...Okay?”

You beamed. Smiling widely, you handed him the flower crown, but he didn’t take it, just stared at it, for a few seconds, then your face, expression still very serious.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

He blinked. Twice.

“No.”

You dropped your shoulders, your heart breaking just a little bit. But you weren’t done, he would be yours.

“Is it because I talk too much? I can shut up. Watch—” you slapped your hands over your mouth and made muffled noises of restraint.

He sighed, tired.

“It’s because i’m twelve.”

You lowered your hands, frowning. Then smiled again, the sunshine falling on your face.

“So you’re saying there’s a chance when you’re not twelve?”

Sunghoon stared at you like you were speaking Ancient Greek backwards. Then, without another word, he got up and walked away.

“Wait!” you’d called after him. “You forgot the flower crown!”

He didn’t look back.

But that night, when you snuck out to leave a daisy crown on his cabin doorstep, you swore you saw someone peek through the window.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

The sun was at its peak, golden rays filtering through the trees, spreading warm light over Camp Half-Blood, it was a beautiful summer day. Sweat gleamed on your temple as you wiped your brow with the back of your hand, your hair braided falling over one of your shoulders, bow in your grip and a mischievous grin tugging at your lips.

Archery practice had officially ended fifteen minutes ago—but you were still there, refusing to leave until you landed the shot.

A single red apple rested delicately atop the training dummy’s helmet, mocking you like it wanted to be destroyed.

You squinted, lining up your shot. You were getting into that headspace again, where everything melted away and it was just you, your bow, and the sun humming beneath your skin like a second heartbeat.

Then you heard it.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Boots on gravel.

Your heartbeat tripped. You didn’t have to look, You’d memorized that sound ages ago.

Sunghoon.

You could feel his presence before you saw him, like a crackle of static in the air, like the world holding its breath. Like a grey cloud covered the ray of sunshine. You glanced over your shoulder, trying to keep your expression casual, but your pulse was skipping like a pebble across water.

There he was.

Stormcloud incarnate.

He was walking past the range, jaw clenched, shirt sticking to his back from training, a sword strapped across his back. His hair a little messy, a little wet from the sweat, he cleaned a few drops falling from his forehead, clearly annoyed by the heated day. And gods, did he look incredibly good in the sunlight. Like something carved from marble, kissed by thunderstorms and arrogance.

You knew you had no business liking someone like him.

But you did.

And you were nothing if not bold.

“Hey, Zeus-boy!” you called, loud enough for half the camp to hear.

He stopped mid-step, like he was contemplating whether to respond or keep walking and pretend he didn’t hear you. But after a heartbeat, he turned, his expression already dipped in exhaustion.

You beamed at him.

“I bet I can shoot that apple blindfolded.”

His eyes flicked to the dummy. Then to your bow. Then to your very cocky stance. Sughoon sighed, deeply, and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“You’ll miss,” he said flatly.

You tilted your head, smirking, confident.

“What’s the matter? Scared I might bruise that ego of yours?”

His eyes flicked, his posture straightened, his face completely serious, not a clue of even a little smile.

“Scared?” he scoffed. “More like dreading the noise you’ll make if you actually hit it.”

Your heart fluttered. Not that you’d ever admit that.

“So what you’re saying is… you don’t believe in me.”

“I believe you’ll shoot the dummy in the face.”

You suppressed a laugh, he was always like this, trying to underestimate you. Cocky boy.

“Harsh. But fair.” You grinned, already reaching into your quiver. “How about this—we make it interesting.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Define ‘interesting.’”

You looked at the sky, pretending to think, finger against your chin, and he breathed deep again, leg bouncing like he was losing his patience. Then, you smiled again, snapping your fingers.

“If I hit the apple, you admit I’m better than you at something. Just one thing. Anything. I don’t care if it’s archery or baking or making people laugh—your choice.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow.

“And if you miss?”

“I won’t talk to you for an entire week.”

He blinked. A few seconds passed, and your heart was still racing in your chest, he was thinking, of course, he would be happy of you leaving him alone for a few days, you weren’t that dumb to not know.

“…That’s the best offer I’ve heard all day.”

You smiled.

“Oh, so now you want me to miss.” You raised an eyebrow, your grin sharp. “But I won’t.”

He exhaled through his nose, looking up like he was praying for divine patience. Then, arms crossed over his chest, he said

“Fine. Hit the apple, sunshine. Impress me.”

Your heart leapt. Not because of the bet. Not even because you loved a challenge. But because he stayed. And he called you sunshine, even if it was obvious sarcasm, you still liked it.

You pulled the blindfold from your bag and slipped it over your eyes. The world went dark, but your body remembered everything: the position of the apple, the direction of the breeze, the way the sun pulsed on your skin like it was trying to guide you. You prayed to your father mentally, please, please dad, don’t let me miss this shot i promise you i will make you proud for the rest of my life…

You drew your arrow.

Breathed in deep.

Held, your bringes brushed the arch with a familiar force, you knew the movement, the position, the feeling by heart. It was running through your blood.

Released.

Crack.

A perfect, clean split. The apple burst apart in two pieces, toppling off the dummy’s helmet.

Someone nearby gasped. Someone else clapped. You tugged off the blindfold, a bright, victorious smile already on your lips.

You turned to Sunghoon.

He was staring. Not at the apple. At you.

His eyes were unreadable, but there was something in them. Not shock. Not irritation. Something softer. Like confusion wrapped in awe.

Just for a second.

And then—his face closed off. Same serious face as before.

“Lucky shot,” he said gruffly, turning away.

You blinked. Your smile faltered just a little.

“That wasn’t luck,” you said, trying to keep your voice light.

“You always think it’s skill until you miss,” he muttered.

You opened your mouth to respond, when someone bumped into your shoulder from behind, jostling your arm. The arrow in your hand slipped from your fingers and whipped through the air.

Thunk.

Right into the toe of Sunghoon’s boot.

Silence. A breeze rolled through the range. Your heart stopped beating in your chest, your whole face red with embarrasment, you begged to Hades to take you to the underworld in that exact moment. Of course you had to ruin it.

Sunghoon looked down slowly.

You froze, hands halfway raised like you could rewind time with enough desperation. Then he spoke, voice calm, low as always.

“…Are you trying to kill me?”

You widened your eyes, shaking your head.

“No! I—I swear that wasn’t my fault! I was bumped and—and—oh my gods, are you bleeding?!”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Because if I hit a toe vein or something I can totally fix it—”

“There’s no such thing as a toe vein.”

You moved closer before he could stop you, already kneeling to inspect the damage. He stepped back instinctively, and you almost fell on your face into the dirt.

“Y/N—”

“Hold still! Let me—oh. Okay. Yeah. That’s gonna bruise. You probably shouldn’t walk. Do you want me to carry you?”

He stared at you like you’d just asked him to marry you. You couldn’t even lift him anyway, he was much taller than you.

“I will ban you from this entire camp,” he said, voice tight.

You stood, brushing off your knees.

“Well, now you’re just being dramatic.”

He yanked the arrow from his boot and tossed it to the dirt with a low growl. Annoyed, a bit angry too, his brows frowned as he talked between his teeth.

“You’re lucky I don’t—”

“I’m always lucky,” you chirped. “It’s part of my charm.”

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he stalked away without another word.

You stood there, heart pounding in your chest.

He’d looked at you.

Just for a moment, he looked like he saw you.

You glanced down at the arrow in the dirt. Picked it up gently. Held it in your palm like it meant something.

Then you turned and walked the opposite direction, still smiling.

Even if he didn’t admit it, even if he rolled his eyes and glared and walked away like you were the most annoying thing on Earth…

You saw the flicker.

And gods help you, you were going to make it burn.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

The locker room was empty, save for the steady drip of water echoing from the showers. Sunghoon sat on the bench near the back, shirt discarded, cleaning the scrape on his shoulder with practiced, irritated hands. The skin was already bruising, a light, angry red smeared with dirt and blood from where the arrow had nicked him.

Stupid.

He wasn’t even supposed to be near the archery range today. He had just finished a brutal solo sparring session and wandered there for some damn reason, and that reason was currently embedded in his skin.

He hissed as the antiseptic hit raw flesh.

Your voice echoed in his mind.

He could still see the way you looked at him, wide-eyed, half-laughing, half-panicked, your hand fluttering uselessly near your mouth like you could wave the accident away. And then you’d giggled. Like it was funny.

He clenched his jaw.

It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t cute. And it definitely wasn’t supposed to make his chest feel weird the way it did.

He threw the bloody cloth into the sink harder than necessary.

Why were you always there? Why did your voice carry across the training fields like it was trying to find him? Why did the other campers look at you like the sun walked when you did?

And why did he notice every damn time you smiled?

He didn’t even like you. Not really. You were loud, you talked too much, you stood too close. You said his name like it tasted sweet on your tongue, and he hated that he noticed the difference.

You were Apollo’s favorite. Everything about you was golden, your laugh, your smile, your damn aura.

Sunshine, he thought bitterly. All light and no sense of self-preservation. Not even sense of danger, it was like you went through life without realizing how dangerous it is for a demigod.

And yet… you could shoot with terrifying precision. You ran faster than half the Hermes cabin. You took hits without flinching. He’d watched you. Too many times.

More than he should have.

Pathetic, he told himself.

This wound wasn’t even that deep, and it didn’t hurt a lot either. He was used to the pain, to the blood, to the stings, his own father tried to kill him years ago.

He wasn’t mad about the arrow. Not really.

He was mad that the second he looked at you, just a glance, just one tiny slip, you’d smiled like it meant something. And worse, something in him had tightened. Not in fear, not in anger. But something softer.

He scrubbed at the wound harder, hissing through his teeth, his jaw hurting from how hard he was clenching it.

She’s a distraction.

Just like Zeus always said. “Distractions will ruin you. You were made to be more than human. So act like it.”

Sunghoon gritted his teeth. Wrapped the bandage tight. Stood up and grabbed his shirt again.

He didn’t need distractions. He didn’t need softness.

He needed distance. From you, from everyone.

But even as he walked out of the locker room, storm brewing in his chest, the faint echo of your laugh trailed behind him, sweet and sunny, like the warmth he swore he didn’t want.

And for a second—just one traitorous second—he wondered what it would be like to let it reach him.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

The woods were quiet. Too quiet.

Birdsong had gone silent, wind stilled in the leaves. You and Sunghoon walked with an unspoken tension between you, your steps crunching over twigs and leaves as dusk swallowed the sky. You weren’t supposed to be out this far. But when Sunghoon snuck off with that stormy look in his eye, of course you followed.

Chiron had sent him to a little small quest just to check around camp, to see if there was any suspicious monster activity. And of course he’d say yes, always being so brave even though he knew the danger that would be waiting for him if he got outside for even 10 minutes.

You had just finished a small session of lyre practice, and your siblings wanted a few hours to rest, so you didn’t have much to do either, that’s why you went with him, even if he clearly was not very happy about that.

He didn’t even look back when he caught you trailing him. Just muttered, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

You grinned, softly.

“Neither are you.”

He rolled his eyes and kept walking.

It was almost funny, how predictable this little dance had become through the years. He brooded, you brightened. He snapped, you teased. He ran, you followed. It was like a little fun dynamic, one that you enjoyed, you liked his company even if he kept frowning his eyebrows and rolling his eyes and ignoring you. A little bit delusional, but you didn’t care.

But for some reason, tonight felt different. There was something electric in the air, like the sky was holding its breath.

You kept walking through the woods, the only sound being of your steps, your boots covered in mud, your arch clenched tight to your side. You weren’t scared, you had fought monsters before in small quests, but still, when the air turned colder, every hair in your body jumped, something was wrong.

And then it struck.

A blur of darkness. The smell of sulfur. The low, throaty growl of something ancient. You barely had time to register the hellhound before it lunged at Sunghoon from the trees. You widened your eyes, grabbing your arch, a small scream leaving your throat.

He moved fast, faster than anyone you’d ever seen. Blade drawn, lightning crackling at his knuckles. His first strike hit, but the second didn’t land. The beast was faster. Stronger. And it wanted him.

It slammed him into the ground with a sickening crack.

“Sunghoon!” you shouted, without thinking. And then you ran. Faster than you’d ever did before.

You were by his side in seconds, he was bleeding, his side torn open, breathing shallow. His sword lay feet away, knocked from his hand. The monster towered over him, muscles rippling, eyes glowing. It was ready to kill.

You didn’t hesitate.

Your arrow flew true, straight into its neck. It reeled back with a howl, giving you just enough time to get between it and Sunghoon. Bow discarded, you drew your dagger, heart pounding so hard it hurt. But you weren’t scared of the monster, you were scared of losing him.

“Get away from him,” you growled.

You fought like you were born to do it. Fast. Sharp. Precise. You moved around the monster with unrelenting speed, slashing, ducking, dodging, not stopping even when its claws grazed your arm. A gasp left your mouth, and you saw the blood starting to run, your delicate arm almost destroyed.

“You dirty ugly thing! That fucking hurt!” You screamed at it, and it responded with a loud growl that made the trees around you shake.

But you didn’t flinch, you passed your blade to your other arm and slammed it right into its face. Rage, because of the wound, because that thing was brave enough to touch him. And while you were alive, nobody had the right to hurt the man that you loved.

Sunghoon watched from the ground, stunned, more by you than the fight.

Because you weren’t just good.

You were exceptional.

And gods, you were furious. You didn’t stop until the hellhound collapsed, snarling, non-stopping, your hair sticking to your face as you moved around and fought with all your force.

One last strike before it dissolved into dust at your feet.

Your chest was heaving, your arm bleeding. But you were alive. The world felt a little hazy, your skin stang too much, the pain almost numbing.

But you didn’t care.

You turned to him immediately, dropping to your knees. “Sunghoon, are you okay? Are you—?”

He shoved your hand away as you reached for his wound. And you freezed, trying to smile like it was ok.

“I didn’t need your help.”

You blinked, breath catching.

“What?”

“I had it handled.”

“No, you didn’t.” You gestured to the ground. “You were on your back, unarmed—”

“I had it,” he snapped, voice sharp and cold. “I didn’t ask you to jump in.”

You couldn’t believe it. He was always annoyed by you, a lot. But this was another level, you just saved his life, you just killed a monster for him, you just showed him how much you cared.

And he still didn’t see it. Or refused to see it.

“I wasn’t going to let it kill you,” you said, louder now, trying to keep the shake out of your voice. “Gods, what is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” he snapped back. “You think because you shoot sunshine out of your damn fingertips you can just insert yourself into everything? I’m not some project you get to fix. I don’t need your stupid golden glow or your pity or—” he paused, eyes narrowing, “whatever this crush is you think you’ve got going.”

You stared at him, and suddenly the pain from your arm wasn’t that bad, because something in your chest was heavier. Your shoulders dropped.

He said it so easily. Like it meant nothing.

“I wasn’t saving you because I have a crush,” you said, voice tight. “I saved you because I care. Because I didn’t want to see you die. Is that really so horrible?”

He didn’t answer. He just stood, slowly, painfully, pressing a hand to his side.

And then, in a voice like thunder under pressure:

“Just stay the fuck away from me. I mean it, once and for all.”

You flinched, actually flinched. His words sliced deeper than any monster’s claws. And for the first time… you didn’t push back.

You didn’t joke. You didn’t smile. Because suddenly reality hit you like a train, he really didn’t like you, not ever, not after all this years, not after proving yourself for him.

You just stood there, eyes wide and shining in the dying light, and whispered, “Okay.”

And then you turned.

And walked.

And didn’t look back.

Sunghoon stood there in the wreckage—blood on his side, dirt on his face, and something breaking deep in his chest. He watched the sun disappear with you.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

The lake shimmered under the afternoon sun, water glittering like it was mocking you. Like it knew.

You sat on the edge of the dock, feet dangling just above the surface, heels knocking softly against the worn wood. Around you, Camp Half-Blood was alive with summer noise, laughter echoing from the climbing wall, the thud of swords from the arena, the occasional burst of campfire song drifting on the breeze.

But you felt like you were somewhere else entirely. Somewhere quiet, somewhere hollow.

Your fingers twisted a daisy you’d picked, tearing it apart petal by petal.

“He loves me,” you mumbled, letting the petal float away on the water.

“He loves me not.”

Another petal.

“He loves me.”

Pause. Your throat tightened.

“He loves me not.”

You crushed the last petal between your fingers.

Why does it still hurt?

You hadn’t spoken to him in days. Not since the hellhound. Not since he bled on the forest floor and looked you in the eyes like you were the problem. Not since he told you to stay the fuck away like you hadn’t just saved his life.

And gods, you had. You did save him.

But he didn’t want saving.

Especially not from you.

And it wasn’t the rejection that stung, not really. You knew Sunghoon was all sharp edges and storm clouds, and you never expected softness from him. But what hurt was the way he acted like he didn’t want to be seen. Like your kindness was some kind of threat. Like he didn’t think he deserved to be helped, let alone loved.

You had your hand on his chest, pressing his wound, your fingers trembling and slick with his blood, and all he could say was  I didn’t ask for this.”

You had laughed it off to everyone else. Joked like it didn’t matter. But now, alone with only the breeze and the lapping water to witness you—

“I don’t like him anymore,” you whispered, voice soft, uncertain.

Then louder.

“I don’t. I don’t like him. Not anymore.”

You swallowed hard and clenched your fists. “He doesn’t deserve it anyway. He’s mean. He’s impossible. He’s—he’s cold and rude and he hates when I talk and he probably hates when I breathe and—”

Your voice cracked.

And suddenly it was too much.

Your shoulders hunched forward, and the tears you’d been holding back for days slipped past your lashes, warm and silent. You pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes like that would stop them. Like you could push the ache back in. Like you could pretend you weren’t breaking.

But you were.

Not because he rejected you. You were used to that, he had rejected you many times before, since the first time you confessed. But because for a second—just a second—you really thought he saw you.

All of you.

Your spark, your fire, your light. Your strength, that you were actually more than just a girl with a stupid, embarrassing crush.

And you thought maybe he didn’t hate it.

Maybe he even… liked it.

But he didn’t.

He hated it.

He hated you.

More tears fell, faster now, wetting your cheeks, dripping onto your knees. You hugged them to your chest and buried your face in your arms.

“I don’t like him,” you whispered again, broken this time. “I don’t. I don’t.”

But the lie didn’t hold. Not anymore.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

The sun had set hours ago, but the clouds still hovered low, thick and heavy in the dark sky like they were waiting for a reason to break open.

Sunghoon sat on the slanted roof of the Hermes cabin, legs stretched out, back leaning against the chimney. The air was cool, cooler than usual, but he didn’t feel it. Not because he was used to the cold. But because he was too wrapped up in the tight pull in his chest and the lingering sting of words he couldn’t unsay.

You weren’t looking at him anymore.

Not in training. Not at meals. Not even in passing. You just trained, talked to your friends, then stayed inside your cabin all day.

The absence of your gaze, it should’ve been a victory.

It wasn’t.

His jaw tightened as he glanced down at the campgrounds. Everything looked… normal. Someone from Hephaestus cabin was still tending to the garden torches. The Aprhodite kids were still braiding each others hair under the dim light of the sunset. Apollo’s kids—your siblings—were singing around the fire like they always did.

And you weren’t there.

He hadn’t seen your laugh in five days. He hadn’t heard your humming while walking past him, or seen your stupid bright smile you always wore when you were about to say something too fast, too loud, too you.

You were quiet now.

And all because of him.

“Good,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “That’s good. She’s finally listening.”

He should feel at peace. This was good, this is what he’d been wanting for years, just distance from you.

He didn’t.

Instead, he felt this… gnawing weight in his chest. Like guilt, but heavier. Like regret, but sharper. And under it all, fear.

The same fear that always haunted him.

Because this wasn’t just about you.

It never was.

It was about who he was. What he was. The son of Zeus.

The mistake.

The threat.

People called him a hero, a legend, a symbol. He was the boy who stopped Olympus from burning. The one who survived a solo quest against a Titan army. The one who stood under a blackened sky at eighteen and thought—for one second—he had done something worthy.

Until the sky turned against him.

Until he saw that lightning bolt twist in the clouds, not towards the enemy, but towards him.

He still remembered the sound it made. The sharp crack. The way the earth split just inches from where he stood. The voice that followed, low and cruel, echoing in the wind.

“You were never meant to live this long.”

He’d stood in the wreckage, skin burned, blood on his lips, and realized—

His father had sent the bolt.

His father wanted him gone.

Because he was too strong. Too unpredictable. Too much like a god.

Too dangerous.

Sunghoon blinked hard and looked up at the clouds. There was no thunder tonight, no sign of his father. Just the heavy stillness of a world that hadn’t changed. The world he so much hated, the world that he didn’t belong.

No one knew. Not the other campers. Not the counselors. Not even Chiron.

Sunghoon carried it alone.

And now? He’d hurt you.

You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into his chaos. You were light, warmth, all the things he wasn’t, and being near you felt like standing in the sun after years in the dark. And before, when you saved him from the monster without hesitation, without thinking about you first, just about him, just about his life. He couldn’t believe how you were that selfless, that warm-hearted.

But that was the problem.

Because eventually, even the sun burns.

And he was tired of fire.

So he said things he didn’t mean, he pushed you away like you were the threat. Like you were the one who might ruin him, not the other way around.

He told himself it was safer this way. You couldn’t get too close if he kept building the wall. You couldn’t look at him with those soft, hopeful eyes. Couldn’t touch his arm like you wanted to stay. Couldn’t see the cracks in him if he never let you close enough to look.

But now?

You were gone.

And he hated how much he noticed.

How quiet the world felt without your voice, even if he used to love his quiet life. How training didn’t feel like an escape anymore. How his victories felt hollow. How every time he shut his eyes, your beautiful face was there, angry, hurt, distant.

He pressed his palms against his eyes, breathing out slow and heavy.

“I’m not him,” he whispered, barely audible.

But he didn’t believe it.

Not when he saw the way your shoulders trembled as she walked away. Not when he remembered the look in your pretty eyes, like he’d destroyed something you didn’t even know you were handing him.

I’m not him. I’m not my father.

But every time he pushed someone away… every time he chose silence over kindness… every time he used his power to isolate instead of protect—

He saw Zeus in the mirror.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

The sky had been rentless for days.

Even without a prophecy, even without Chiron’s grim warnings, everyone felt it, that gut-wrenching tension in the air, like the gods themselves were holding their breath. The barrier at Camp Half-Blood had been flickering at the edges like a candle about to go out, and the atmosphere felt like it was pressing down on the campers’ chests. Tighter and tighter.

You had been quiet all day.

For once, not joking. Not smiling. Not chasing after a certain grumpy son of Zeus who hadn’t even looked in your direction since your last fight. Your body ached from training, but your heart ached more. And the silence in camp? It felt too heavy to carry alone.

You stood by the archery range, fingers gripping the polished wood of your bow, eyes scanning the shadows of the woods. Something was wrong, you could tell, but you didn’t quite put your finger on it.

The air felt different, heavy, like something really bad was about to happen. And the clouds were gray, the day so gloomy, about to rain.

You sighed before starting to walk towards your cabin, planning to stay in bed all day so you could avoid looking at Sunghoon.

But then—a snap.

A branch. Far too close. Far too intentional.

You turned just in time to see a ripple, like something slicing through the barrier. A tear. Then it broke. Ripped, as if by claws.

The air screamed. Your heart stopped in your chest, your eyes widened, your legs trembled.

A deafening roar shattered the silence, and then all at once, chaos descended.

Monsters. Not one. Dozens. Charging through the weakened barrier like hell had opened its gates. Hellhounds, cyclopes, dracaenas dark, massive, frothing creatures spilling into camp like floodwater.

The storm broke overhead.

And it poured.

It was all too fast, all too blurry, like a nightmare come to life.

Campers screamed and scattered, grabbing weapons, dragging younger demigods to shelter. Magic flared through the sky, flashes of green, blue, orange, but the monsters were relentless. They came in waves, more than anyone had ever seen inside the borders.

You didn’t hesitate.

You sprinted towards the east ridge, losing arrows as you ran. Your eyes scanned for anyone injured, for anyone alone, for your siblings, but it was too fast. A hellhound lunged towards you, and you flipped out of its path, spinning mid-air to shoot an arrow clean through its eye.

Thud. Down. Another behind it. Then another.

It didn’t stop. They were too many, and you were running out of arrows, out of breath, but you kept going.

The ground was soaked with mud and blood, and you could barely see through the curtain of rain. You ducked as a spear flew past your head, rolled, and landed hard on your side.

That’s when you saw it.

A chimera. Twice the size of the one in the old training books. Foaming, frothing, fire curling from its lion mouth and venom dripping from its serpent tail. The demigod killer.

Your breath caught, panick starting to rise, but you didn’t let it take you over.

It charged.

You fired once, twice, three times, all hitting, but barely slowing it down. Your chest was heaving, the blood in your veins running fast. It barreled through a group of campers, swiping one aside like a rag doll.

And then its eyes locked onto you.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

You tried to run—slipped, the grass was soaked.

The tail struck first, slicing across your side, sending you skidding across the wet ground. Your bow flew from your hands. Blood rushed from your ribs. Pain bloomed white-hot in her chest. You shut your eyes, screaming, your hands shaking against the open wound.

But you stood.

Gritting your teeth, clutching your side, you reached for a dagger and faced the monster head-on.

“I’m not done yet,” you whispered, even as your knees buckled.

It lunged, and you raised your blade, ready to strike.

But then, BOOM.

A thunderclap exploded above you, followed by a bolt of lightning that struck mere feet from the chimera. The impact sent the beast reeling.

From above, slicing through the rain like a blade, he came.

Sunghoon.

Drenched, furious, glowing with power. His sword flashed silver in the stormlight, and his eyes burned with a rage that seemed to come straight from the sky. He didn’t yell. He didn’t need to.

He moved.

His blade danced in arcs, calculated, violent, beautiful. The chimera snapped its jaws, tail lashing, but Sunghoon dodged every strike with impossible grace. He struck again, slicing across its shoulder, then spun, slamming his boot into its head and sending it crashing to the ground.

But it rose again, roaring fire toward him.

He raised his hand, and lightning answered.

It struck the chimera square in the chest, setting its fur ablaze. It screamed once, then dropped, twitching in the mud. Dead.

Silence followed. Deafening. Campers stared from the tree line, breathless.

Sunghoon stood over the corpse like a war god, untouched but seething. He proved once again why he was the strongest warrior to ever exist.

And then you spoke, voice weak because of the pain, from both your wounds and your broken heart.

“Of course,” you groaned from where she was still on the ground, soaked, bloodied. “Here comes Zeus Jr.”

His head snapped toward you. Eyes narrowing, that same damn expression you once loved but you were starting to get tired of.

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

“No kidding,” you muttered, struggling to sit up.

He took a step closer.

“You should’ve stayed back.”

“I was back,” you shot, dragging yourself upright with the help of a tree. “It found me. I didn’t ask for a knight in electro-shining armor.”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, sword still on his hand.

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“Sure.”

The rain poured harder.

“Stop trying to be a hero,” you said, bitterly. For the first time talking to him in this tone “You’re not the only one who can fight.”

“I know,” he snapped.

You scoffed, but there was no fun in your face.

“Then why do you act like I’m weak?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!”

“Because you don’t belong in the middle of this!” he shouted suddenly, and you flinched, blinking. “Because if you get hurt, it’s not just about you anymore, it’s—fuck.”

He turned away, fists clenched, rain soaking his clothes, his dark hair, his beautiful face.

Your expression shifted.

“Then what is it about, Sunghoon?” you asked, stepping closer despite the blood dripping down your arm. “Why do you keep pushing me away like I’m the enemy? Why do you act like I’m something to be afraid of?”

He didn’t answer. And you were furious.

“Why do you think you’re not allowed to be loved?”

Crack. Thunder rolled like a growl, and you flinched again, the sky reflecting Sunghoon’s expression.

He turned, eyes blazing.

“Because I’m a monster too!” he shouted, voice breaking. “Because I was born cursed. Because my father—the king of the gods—tried to kill me. Because every time I care about someone, the gods take it away. Because I saved Olympus and he still looked at me like I was wrong!”

You froze. Lightning split the sky behind him. A knot built in your throat, you couldn’t speak. This confession, it finally made sense to you. Why he was like that, why he pushed people away, why he was so focused only in training. And you realized too, Sunghoon wasn’t just brave because he was Zeus’ son, he was because he had no choice. Because deep down, where nobody saw him, he was actually really scared.

Of himself, of his lineage, of everything that his life meant.

You swallowed, opening your mouth but the words just didn’t come.

“I push you away because I don’t know how not to, Y/N,” he said, quieter now, throat tight. “Because I see everything I want in you, and I know I can’t have it.”

Silence. The rain softened just a little.

He couldn’t look at you, his gaze was on the ground, but you saw him. Not Park Sunghoon, the forbidden son, the strongest warrior, the child of the storm.

Just Sunghoon, the little boy you’d been in love with since you were ten, the little boy who had a cold wall around him, and he never let anyone in. The little boy who grew up alone, scared, and the little boy who’s own father tried to kill.

Then, softly, you said.

“You already have me,” you whispered.

And without thinking, you reached for him. You could barely walk, but you did anyways, fast, your heart pounding in your chest, but for the first time it wasn’t just because of a stupid crush, but for the immense affection you had for this man.

He flinched, but didn’t move.

And when your arms wrapped around him, something broke.

Not the sky.

Not the storm.

But him.

His sword dropped. His head fell to your shoulder. He grabbed you tight, as if he never wanted to let you go, or never wanted you to let him go.

And he let himself be held. For the first time ever.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

The storm had passed, but Camp Half-Blood still bore its scars.

The training fields were torn apart, trees splintered, the ground muddy and red. Campers moved in hushed voices, some bandaged, others limping, the weight of what had happened still lingering like a bruise beneath the skin.

No one died, thanks to the gods.

The golden glow of the Apollo cabin had always felt warm, comforting in a way that mirrored its occupants. Now, that same golden light bled through gauzy curtains and danced across your skin as you laid on your bed, propped up by a nest of pillows, half-wrapped in bandages. Your laughter, soft and airy, filled the space, a balm over the storm the camp had just endured.

Your siblings buzzed around you like hummingbirds, fussing over your hair, feeding you sweetened nectar, adjusting your blanket, whispering far too loudly about a certain brooding demigod who’d taken post at the far corner of the room.

“Is he still there?” Taki whispered, not quietly.

“He hasn’t blinked in twenty minutes,” another added, munching on a cracker.

“He literally dragged her out of a battlefield like some tragic hero in a war movie,” a third said dramatically, hand on heart.

You groaned, pressing the heel of your palm to your forehead. “You guys are so embarrassing.”

“And yet, you’re blushing,” your sister teased.

“I’m injured!”

“Yeah, but not blind. He’s still standing right there.”

And he was.

Park Sunghoon.

Leaning silently against the far wall, arms crossed, a bruise blooming on his jaw, dark hair damp from the rain that still drizzled outside. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, exposing a long scratch that was half-scabbed and half-healed. Despite every opportunity, he hadn’t left since you were brought in, just stood guard like he didn’t know how to do anything else.

You glanced at him from beneath your lashes, a teasing smile playing at your lips. That same feeling in your chest, in your heart, that you’d had for him. It never went away.

“What can I say?” you murmured to your siblings, dramatically pressing a hand to your heart. “I’m so lucky.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flicked toward you.

He rolled them, visibly, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. A ghost of something softer. Maybe amusement. Maybe relief.

But he still owed you a conversation.

“Okay, out,” you said, waving your siblings away. “Shoo. Give a girl some space to die tragically in peace.”

One by one, your siblings peeled away with dramatic groans and cheeky winks, until the cabin settled into a golden silence, filled only by the hum of cicadas outside and the steady beat of your heart.

He looked at you again, serious, as always, but there was something different in his eyes this time, something warm.

Sunghoon hesitated before walking over. His steps were quiet. Measured.

You shifted as he sat carefully on the edge of your bed, hands resting on his knees, posture rigid like he was still braced for a battle that hadn’t come yet.

“You stayed,” you said softly, eyes flicking to his face.

“You got hurt,” he replied, his voice low.

“I didn’t need you to come.”

“I came anyway.”

That silenced you. For a moment.

Your fingers picked at a loose thread on her blanket.

“You haven’t said anything since.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“Well, you could start with I’m glad you’re not dead,” you joked half-heartedly.

He didn’t smile. But his jaw worked, like the words were stuck somewhere between his throat and his chest.

“I am glad,” he said, quieter this time.

You blinked.

Something inside you, tight and aching, twisted. You thought about his words from before, how he crashed out as if he’d been carrying with the heavy weight of what happened for years, how he’d been suffering alone.

“…Sunghoon?”

He didn’t look at you.

Instead, he exhaled deeply, and then… he started speaking. Slowly. Like he was trying to figure out how to make himself real for the first time in years.

“When I was five, the monsters wouldn’t stop. My mom said it was like I had a target painted on me. They were relentless.” His voice was flat. Detached. “She brought me here to keep me alive. Dropped me off and i never saw her again.”

You didn’t move. You barely breathed. You just let him talk, a bulge starting to built inside your chest.

“When I turned eighteen, the gods sent me on a solo quest. Olympus was on the verge of war. I stopped it. Somehow.” He swallowed. “They called me a hero. Said I saved everything. But…”

He looked at you then.

And you saw it.

The storm that lived inside his eyes.

“…My father was there. Zeus. He watched. He… waited. And then he tried to kill me.”

Sunghoon’s voice shook for the first time. “He said I was too powerful. That I could become a threat. Said it would be easier to eliminate the possibility.”

Your eyes filled with tears. “Oh, gods…”

“No one knows.” He shook his head. “Not Chiron. Not the other gods. I never told anyone. What would it matter? I lived. That should be enough.”

“It’s not,” you whispered fiercely. “It’s not enough.”

He looked away again.

“After that, I stopped trying to feel. I train. I fight. I do what they ask. Because if even my own father thinks I’m dangerous… maybe he’s right. Maybe if I let my guard down for a second, I’ll turn into him.”

You reached forward, your hand trembling, and touched his fingers.

He let you hold them, not flinching, not avoiding you like all of these years, just letting himself be real with you, letting you give him of some of your warm.

“Sunghoon… you’re nothing like him.”

His eyes met yours. His voice cracked. “Then why do I hurt people?”

“You don’t mean to.”

“I hurt you.”

You smiled through your tears, a shaky laugh bubbling from your lips.

“Yeah. Well. I kinda deserved it. I’ve been annoying you since I was ten.”

His mouth twitched again. This time, for real. You saw him smile for the first time, and it was the most beautiful sight ever. Your heart fluttered inside of you.

“You haven’t changed.”

“And you’re still grumpy.”

You stared at each other for a long moment.

Then Sunghoon reached out, fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered on your cheek, thumb catching a falling tear. Your skin jumped, his hand was cold, too cold, but it felt good, sweet, gentle and you leaned to his touch, his eyes sparkling.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured, voice almost pleading.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Shut up.” You sniffled. “You just trauma-dumped on me, i have feelings.”

He laughed quietly. A little broken. A little healed. But it was the most gorgeous sound ever, you wanted it imprinted in your mind forever. You realized that, maybe you were in love fully of this man, nothing he’d do would ever make you hate him.

Not after he told you his deepest secret, not after he saved your life, not after he opened with you.

You looked at him again, in silence, and his gaze never left yours. It wasn’t a cold look anymore, it was warm and bright, like the first rays of sunlight after a storm. The kind of warmth you’d always believed lived somewhere inside him, hidden beneath layers of scars and silence. And now, it was there. Open. Soft. Yours.

The breath caught in your throat. Every moment that had led to this—every time you’d chased after him with a smile, every time he pushed you away with gritted teeth—suddenly made sense. It was all leading here. To this quiet, breathless second.

Then he leaned in.

And kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed, or greedy, or anything like the heat that had been simmering between you for so long. It was slow—almost reverent. Like he was tasting sunlight for the first time. Like he was terrified it might burn him, but he wanted it anyway. His lips were soft but certain, moving against yours with a quiet desperation he’d never let himself show. One hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin as if grounding himself in the reality of you.

You melted into him, hands sliding up his chest, fingertips trembling. A soft noise escaped your throat, half a gasp, half a sob, and he responded with a deeper kiss, pulling you closer like he couldn’t get enough.

The room was quiet except for the soft sound of your breaths, quick and shallow, his heavier, more labored. Your bodies were still pressed close together, but everything had changed.

Sunghoon was hovering over you, eyes dark and searching. The way his fingers brushed across your skin was reverent, like he was afraid of breaking something if he moved too quickly. And yet, the way you smiled at him, your hands drifting over his chest, made him feel like everything about this was exactly what he needed.

You were still catching your breath, lips tingling, heart stammering in your chest. You searched his face, his storm-dark eyes, the way his jaw flexed like he was trying to hold back everything he felt. But you could see it now. He wasn’t hiding anymore.

You leaned in again, brushing your lips against his in a softer kiss this time, almost shy despite everything. And he chased it. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, anchoring you as his mouth moved with more intent. A low sound escaped from deep in his throat, and you felt it everywhere, your spine, your stomach, the tips of your fingers.

He pressed you gently back onto the bed, following you down, lips never leaving yours. Your hands found the edge of his shirt, fisting the fabric as you tugged him closer. There was no more hesitation now, only want, only need, and the comfort of finally being seen.

When you parted for air, you were breathless, cheeks flushed. “Sunghoon…”

And when you shifted, pulling him just a little closer, he froze.

“You’re still hurt,” he rasped, pulling back slightly, his hand flattening over your bandaged side.

“So are you,” you replied.

“That’s not the same.”

“I’m fine.”

“You almost died.”

“And you didn’t leave.”

His jaw tensed. You reached up and pressed your fingers to his cheek, drawing his attention back to you.

“I want this,” you said quietly, honestly. “I want you. Not just the hero. Not the demigod. Just you.”

His walls nearly went up again. You saw it, the flinch in his eyes, the way his shoulders stiffened like he was about to retreat. But then, slowly, he exhaled. Let himself be seen. Let your words settle into the softest part of him.

“…Stay still,” he murmured.

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m gonna kiss you again.”

Your heart stuttered. “Then what was—?”

He kissed you before you could finish. Gentle. Deeper. Slow like the sky opening after a long storm. His hands found your waist, easing you back into the pillows, careful of your wounds, but not afraid to touch touch now. You opened beneath him, heat sparking low in your belly, breath hitching as your bodies aligned, as your hands dragged across the slope of his shoulders, his back, his chest.

He kissed your collarbone, then lower, taking his time. Every touch, every kiss felt like a promise, not just of desire, but of something more. Something real. His fingertips grazed the hem of your shirt, and he paused again, looking up at you with something deeper than just want.

“Are you sure?”

You just nodded, biting your lip, your heart pounding with so much force.

“I’ve been waiting for this. I…I saved myself, for you.”

It took him a full second to register your words.

Then another to believe them.

And when they did, they hit like a tidal wave. His hands tightened in the sheets, his breath stalling in his throat as he stared down at you with something between awe and desperation.

“You…” he rasped, swallowing hard. “You can’t say shit like that to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m barely holding on here,” he growled, dragging a hand down his face. “Because if you keep saying things like that, I’m going to stop pretending I can control myself around you.”

You shifted beneath him, fingers sliding into the hair at the back of his neck.

“Then don’t.”

That undid him.

With a strained sound, he kissed you again, deeper this time. Like he was drowning in you. Like everything he’d kept buried for years had broken through the surface and surged forward with no intention of retreating. His body pressed closer, mouth warm and hungry on yours, the air between you thick with heat and emotion.

The air between you grew hotter, heavier. He groaned softly as your nails scratched lightly down his back, and you felt him shiver, his body flush against yours now, every hard line of him pressing into your softness. He lifted your shirt over your shoulders, carefully, his touch cold but gentle, and you whimpered when his hands trailed down your torso, slow, but needy. You were left in the lacy white fabric of your bra, and he looked at you like trying to memorise every inch, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"You're so beautiful" his voice came in a weak whisper, and you bit your lip, blushing.

His touch wandered more freely now, fingers tracing the delicate lace before gently sliding the strap off your shoulder. He kissed the skin he revealed, soft and slow, and you shivered. Sunghoon’s hands finally found their way beneath the lace, warm palms cupping your breasts with a reverence that made you gasp. His thumbs brushed your nipples and your back arched off the mattress instinctively, pressing yourself harder into him, into his touch, into the heat that coiled between your legs.

“Fuck,” he breathed, the word a low growl against your skin as he kissed down your throat, teeth grazing gently. “You’re driving me insane.”

You couldn’t help the breathless laugh that escaped you.

“Told you I was dangerous.”

“Yeah?” He lifted his head, eyes dark with desire and something deeper, something raw. “You’ve been playing with fire since the day I met you.”

“And look at you,” you whispered, dragging your nails lightly over the taut muscles of his abdomen. “Finally letting yourself burn.”

He groaned, then kissed you again, no hesitation, no restraint. His mouth was hungry on yours, his tongue sliding against yours with a desperation that made your toes curl. His hips rolled against yours and you felt him, hard, needy, pressing right where you ached most.

“Sunghoon,” you gasped, legs falling open to cradle his hips.

He gritted his teeth, one hand sliding down your stomach and unbuttoning your jeans with one swift motion. You felt like you were dreaming, you had been thinking about this moment for years, and it was finally happening. It wasn't just lust, it was something more, something that you felt inside of you, like you belonged to him.

You helped him shove the denim down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your underwear, flushed and breathless beneath him. His hand brushed over the damp heat between your thighs and his breath caught.

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “Is that all for me?”

You bit your lip, teasing even now.

“Guess I have a type. Grumpy, sword-wielding sons of Zeus.”

He looked at you with disbelief, but then he laughed. His laugh was low, strained, as he hooked a finger in the side of your underwear and pulled it down slowly, watching the way you squirmed beneath his gaze.

“Keep joking like that and I’m not going to last.”

You smirked, a little shy, a little wrecked.

“Then maybe stop teasing me and do something about it.”

That was all it took.

He slid two fingers into you without warning, and your head fell back with a choked moan. His movements were slow but deep, curling just right, hitting that spot that made your thighs tremble. Your pussy clenched around his digits as if it had been waiting for this moment too, soaked walls pushing him in, and he bit his lip watching his fingers glisten with your arousal, thrusting them, still gentle, but with skill, wet sounds starting to build.

“You feel like heaven,” he whispered against your throat, pressing kisses to your collarbone, then lower, until his lips wrapped around your nipple and you gasped, his body grinding against yours. “So fucking perfect.”

“More,” you gasped, hips moving against his hand. “Please, Sunghoon—need you.”

He sucked your nipple softly, soaking it with his saliva, and he twitched his wrist, his movements becoming faster, more purposeful. The wet sound of his fingers thrusting into you filled the air between your ragged breaths, you clung to him like a lifeline, the heat blooming under your skin, spreading like wildfire.

Your fingers tangled in his dark hair as he moved between worship and hunger, his lips dragging from your chest to your neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin. Then his thumb found your clit, slow, torturing circles that made you whine and rock your hips against him again, as he curled his fingers and brushed your g-spot.

Then, with shaky hands, you found the hem of his shirt, and slid it out of his body, throwing it on the floor. Your gaze trailed with sparkly eyes, he was a real life god, you were sure about that. His pale, glistening skin, the line of his abs, the muscles on his arms, and the perfect v-line in his hips, you moaned again, because it was the most beautiful sight ever. You took your time touching him, your warm, delicate fingers running through his torso. You felt his muscles flex beneath your touch, each slight tremor in his body feeding the dizzy heat growing inside you. He was still working his fingers inside you, coaxing out every soft gasp and whimper from your lips, but now he was shaking too, not from exertion, but from holding back.

"You really are the man of my dreams." A small smile painted on your lips, and he smirked softly, kissing you again.

He kissed you like he was learning every part of you, the pace, the sighs, the way your mouth moved against his. His tongue swept gently along your lower lip before slipping inside, claiming you all over again.

You whimpered into his mouth as his free hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing just under your eye with surprising tenderness.

“You feel like you were made for me,” he murmured against your lips. “Every inch of you.”

Your hands moved lower, tracing the lines of his torso, the sharp dip of his waist, until they reached the waistband of his pants. You hesitated for a heartbeat, eyes flicking up to his.

He nodded once, barely, but his gaze was molten, like he was begging.

You pushed them down slowly, revealing more of him, inch by inch, your fingers brushing over the firm muscle of his thighs. He was trembling now, barely holding himself back. His breath came rough and shaky, and he watched your every movement like it was the most sacred thing he’d ever witnessed. His length was hard and throbbing under his boxers, and you wasted no time in stroking him with your palm, slow, but still needy, your mouth watered, and he hissed between his teeth, hips bucking against your touch.

“You’re perfect,” you said, voice shaking. “So perfect it scares me.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, his body still pressed against yours like he couldn’t bear to pull away.

Everything about him, his scent, his skin, the sound of his voice murmuring your name against your throat, was imprinting into your senses. You never wanted to forget a single second.

And when he finally slid his fingers out of you, slow and slick, you gasped again, your walls fluttering around nothing, and he brought them to his lips, eyes locked with yours as he tasted you. A low groan slipped from his throat.

“You taste like fucking heaven.”

You blushed, overwhelmed, by the pleasure, by the lust, but also by his gaze, he looked even more ruined than you. You turned your face to hide your blush, but he caught your chin gently, guiding you to look back at him.

“Don’t,” he whispered, voice low and hoarse. “Don’t look away.”

His words settled deep in your chest, and you felt it, how everything in this moment had shifted. It wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t just longing. It was years of tension, of biting words and lingering stares, soft smiles and silent hopes, finally unraveling.

Then he straightened just a bit, knees against the mattress of your small bed, and he slid his boxers down, a gasp left your throat, and you squirmed at the sight. His cock was thick, hard, veins popping under the skin, red tip leaking, glistening, and not being cheesy, but it really was the most beautiful, not that you'd seen a lot, anyways. The thought made you chuckle, and you covered your face again, he looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

"Are you seriously laughing right now?" his tone was something between annoyed, horny and amused, and you laughed again, biting your lip.

"I'm sorry, i'm sorry! I was just thinking that you have a really beautiful dick"

He blinked, clearly not expecting that, and for a moment, his expression was priceless, caught between pride and disbelief. Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned over you, arms braced on either side of your head. He grabbed your thigh, strong, but not violent, and wrapped it around his waist, spreading you just for him, and you felt it again, your needy, leaking pussy clenching around nothing. But not for so long, because he grabbed himself by the base, leaning against your entrance but not pulling in yet, just rubbing his tip against your soaked folds, and you whined, arching your back.

"Beautiful, huh?" he murmured, his voice low, teasing now, brushing his nose lightly against your cheek. "You’re unbelievable."

You gasped, cheeks flushed, your body burning with anticipation and need.

“Sunghoon…” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I’m yours.”

And the way he looked at you in that moment, like you were both his salvation and his undoing, told you that no matter what came next, he was already too far gone to turn back.

With that, he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside, and your breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut at the stretch, the burn, the overwhelming fullness.

You gasped when he filled you completely, the stretch stealing your breath, a rush of overwhelming sensation blooming deep in your core. He was so big, and your body trembled from the way he held you, so tightly, so completely, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. And gods, he was warm, inside and out, melting away the ache that had lodged in your chest for years.

You blinked up at him, vision blurred with tears you hadn’t realized had welled in your eyes. Not from pain, no, not at all, but from everything. Every laugh you’d chased him down for, every time he’d brushed you off with that grumpy scowl, every moment you told yourself it didn’t matter that he didn’t want you… and now, here he was. Inside you. Holding you like you mattered. Looking at you like you were everything.

He groaned low and long, grabbing you by your hips with one hand and cupping your cheek with the other, kissing you, hot breath and spit and tongue, and you moaned against his lips when he thrusted just a little bit, holding himself back because he didn't want to hurt you, not anymore.

You gasped when he bottomed out, his hips flush with yours, his arms trembling from the effort of holding back.

“Breathe,” he whispered, brushing your hair from your face. His forehead pressed to yours. “Just feel me.”

You did. Gods, you felt everything.

The way he filled you, stretched you, moved with you. Every slow roll of his hips made your legs shake, made you cling tighter to him, every vein stimulating your sensitive walls, how he throbbed inside of you. You never imagined he could be this gentle, this attentive, like every part of him was focused solely on you, like you were the only thing anchoring him to the world.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice rough but soft, one hand trailing down your side, soothing over your skin.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip, blinking up at him with glassy eyes.

“No, just… full. So full.”

Sunghoon cursed under his breath, pulling out a fraction and thrusting back in. Your back arched and you whimpered, your thighs wrapping tighter around his waist. He was so deep, so thick inside of you, stretching you, the whole world around you disappeared, and the air was so hot, your heart pounding inside of your chest, your body full of pleasure.

“You’re so tight,” he murmured against your ear, voice filled with lust and affection “feels like you were made for me.”

The words hit you harder than they should’ve, and a helpless sound escaped your lips, somewhere between a sob and a moan. His rhythm faltered for a second.

“Are you crying?” he asked, panicked.

You laughed through the tears, arms still around him.

"This is like the climax of my crush ok, don't judge me."

Sunghoon groaned and kissed you again, this time deeper, tongue sweeping into your mouth and stealing your breath. His thrusts picked up speed, the heat between your bodies climbing, burning. He was fully fucking you now, still gentle, but needier, messier, his hips rolled into you with strength, making him go deep inside of you, and your walls swallowed his cock, wetness dripping between your legs until they soaked the sheets under you.

Your fingers slid through his hair, nails lightly raking across his scalp, and the way he groaned into your mouth made you moan in return. He was losing control, unraveling with you.

His thrusts deepened, and his hand found your clit, rubbing tight, perfect circles that sent you tumbling over the edge.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered against your lips, his movements growing more desperate, more erratic. “And I’m so fucking lucky you didn’t give up on me.”

“I never would,” you panted, your nails digging into his back as he fucked you deeper, harder. “I never could.”

He shifted, adjusting your hips, grabbing one of your thighs and pulling it over his shoulder, and suddenly he hit that spot—the one that made your eyes roll back, the one that made your legs tremble violently around him.

“There?” he asked, lips ghosting your throat.

“Yes,” you cried, breath hitching.

He kept his rhythm, each thrust precise and devastating. Your moans filled the room, blending with the sound of skin on skin, the ragged pull of your breaths. The pleasure built higher, stronger, until your body was strung so tight it was hard to think.

“I’m close,” you gasped, your fingers gripping his hair. “Sunghoon—please—”

“Let go,” he whispered, staring into your eyes like he could see right through you, forehead against yours, voice broken “Come for me.”

His hand slid between you, rubbing your clit fast, messy, and you cried out, clutching him tightly, your body shaking with the intensity of it, a blinding, all-consuming wave that crashed over you and didn’t let go. The orgasm hit you, and your walls clenched around him, pulling him with you, and he groaned against your shoulder as he followed you over the edge, shuddering with each deep pulse inside you.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched as your body tightened around him, and the sound of your moans, soft, breathless, utterly overwhelmed, pushed him over the edge. His hands gripped your hips, holding you flush against him as he spilled into you with a low, broken groan, the kind pulled from somewhere deep in his chest, warm seed filling you up so good. His whole body trembled with the release, muscles taut, jaw clenched, forehead still pressed to yours like he needed to feel every part of you as he unraveled.

It wasn’t just physical. It was everything he’d kept bottled up, every wall he’d built, every fear he’d buried. They all crumbled in that moment, coming out in the way he whispered your name against your skin, reverent and raw. His heartbeat thundered against yours, syncing with yours in the quiet aftermath, breathless and heavy.

He didn’t move right away. Just held you. As if he was afraid the moment would slip away, like it wasn’t real.

You brushed your hand through his damp hair, both of you still flushed and dazed, and for the first time in a long while, he felt something dangerously close to peace. Then, with a slow movement, he pulled out, and you whined softly, feeling his cum drip from your core.

But he stayed there, against your chest, just feeling your heartbeat.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, voice hoarse, like he didn’t know what to say but needed to say something.

You smiled, kissing his head.

“You mean aside from the fact that I’ve just lived every single fantasy I’ve had since I hit puberty? Yeah. I’m thriving.”

He groaned. “Gods, you really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. “You knew what you were signing up for.”

Sunghoon chuckled under his breath, soft and rare, and pulled the blanket higher over your bodies.

“Remind me why I like you again?”

“Because I’m charming. And hot. And because I’m the best archer in camp.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly trying not to smile.

“Delusional.”

“Mm, and yet here we are,” you whispered, pressing a lazy kiss to his jaw. “You, in my arms after you confessed your tragic backstory and fucked me senseless.”

“You’re so fucking weird.”

And despite everything, his fears, his walls, the storm still brewing outside, Sunghoon held you close and let himself smile, because somehow, with you, the weight didn’t feel quite so heavy.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

You weren’t training today. Just watching.

You stood at the edge of the sparring circle with your chin in your hands, resting your elbows on the wooden fence, eyes fixed on him.

Sunghoon.

Your boyfriend.

The son of Zeus, war hero of camp, and, more recently, absolute heart-stealer.

He was currently fighting two Ares kids at once like it was child’s play, sword glinting in the sun, movements precise and confident, like he didn’t even have to think. His dark hair was tied up messily, loose strands falling into his eyes, his jaw locked in concentration, but he wasn’t scowling anymore. There was something lighter about him now. The storm inside him had settled, quieted.

And gods, you were staring.

Again.

Just like that day weeks ago. The same spot. The same boy.

But everything had changed.

Someone nudged your arm.

“You’ve been watching him for like… fifteen minutes straight,” one of your Apollo siblings whispered beside you.

“I’m admiring my boyfriend,” you whispered back dramatically.

“He hasn’t even looked over here—wait—nope, there he goes.”

Your heart skipped.

Because it was true.

Sunghoon had just looked up mid-swing, knocked an Ares kid flat on his ass with his sword’s blunt end, and locked eyes with you. You expected the usual eye-roll. Maybe a sigh or a sarcastic shake of his head.

But instead, he smirked.

Smirked.

And then he called out across the sparring field with his deep, rough voice loud enough for half of Camp Half-Blood to hear:

“You gonna keep staring at me like that, or are you finally gonna come over here and kiss your boyfriend?”

You blinked.

The training field went silent for like two whole seconds before everyone exploded into chaos.

Teasing whistles. “Get it, Y/N!” someone from Hermes cabin yelled. Chiron turned around so fast it looked like he was rethinking letting you both stay in camp. Your siblings screamed like they were in the stands of the Hunger Games. Even the Ares kids were impressed.

You covered your face with your hands, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Oh my gods.”

Sunghoon just stood there, smug and sweaty and stupidly hot, sword resting on his shoulder like the cocky menace he was.

And you?

You jumped the fence and ran to him.

When you crashed into his chest and kissed him, breathless, laughing, in front of everyone, he kissed you back with everything he had, arms wrapping tight around your waist, forehead pressed to yours afterward like it was just the two of you in the world.

“You’re so annoying,” you whispered, smiling.

“I learned from the best.”

“You love me.”

He looked at you like the storm had never touched him. “Yeah,” he murmured, lips brushing yours. “I really do.”

So yeah, maybe your annoying crush for the forbidden son of Zeus finally, finally was reciprocated.

thank you for reading as always <3 hope you guys liked it, i didn’t proofread so sorry for the possible mistakes, i’ll fix them later !!

taglist: @gulicore @bussolares @vixialuvs @berryloveseunghan @lilifiedeans @m1kkso @usuallyunlikelyfox @jayjw16enxp @starfallia @bellsjakesgf @zuwishii @cutehoons02 @immelissaaa @nyxtwixx @kayjiguki @emisluvr @k1ttyjwon @cherrymaria58 @koizekomi @crysieberry @add-this-to-that @ii-mimii @luumiinaa @firstclassjaylee @elicheel @vintaegegirl @petalsofink @mariegibeau @tunafishyfishylike @kristynaaah @stercul1a

[onlyyourhallucination]

Lap Rights

Pairing : Dan Heng x Reader

Fluff ; Slight Crack ; The use of chinese endearment once ; Established Relationship

Now, how did it end up like this again?

Him covering half of his face with his hand as he tried to process what's happening, and that is feeling your weight pressing down on his thighs when he's just lounging around in the party car, minding his own business.

Let's rewind back to a few minutes ago, right before you approach him.

You were doing your own thing, busying yourself, or at least you tried to, until boredom downs upon you and you decided to see if there's anything you can do. And then there you saw Dan heng, on the couch, seemingly busy with something. Is he filling up the datas for the databank? You wonder.

At first you didn't want to bother the man, but somehow your brain just goes, how about you sit on his lap without any context? Tempted. You finally relent to your intrusive thought and walk up to him, he seemed to notice you approaching, he look up at you for a moment and nods before looking back to the datas again.

You huffed softly and then move his hand to make an entry way for you to slide yourself onto his lap.

And so this happened now.

Him blinking confusedly at this sudden action from you, as his cheeks slowly going redder each second that pass. "Wh.. What are you doing?" He sounded so, flustered as he shot the question to you, unable to decipher what's happening as he felt your weight on his lap. "Sitting." You casually replied, and it did not help his case at all. "There are many empty seats." He retorted gently as he glance around to make sure nobody is looking, after all he rather do things like, this, in private.

"I know," "Then why—" "Can't I have my lap rights?" You got him baffled, his lips parted slightly, he wanted to say something but the words died down at the tip of his tongue. He frowned for a moment before sighing in defeat, and finally relents. Putting away his tablet and then placing his hands on your thighs, going up to your hips then waist. "Is something wrong, tiánxīn?" He whispered softly, one of his hand then reaches up to you, brushing your hair away to see your face. "Nothing, I'm just, .. bored." Dan heng blinked, before he shook his head in amusement. "And then you decided to do, this. Because you're bored?" He said as he rub his thumb on your waist line, you simply smiled cheekily at his words.

"I mean why not," Dan heng's eyes flickered down to your lips, "I see." He mumbled, his hand that previously brushing your hair now slowly going down to your cheek, his thumb grazing along your lower lip. You know him well, this means he wants to kiss you, but he's way too shy to ask for it directly, by aeons, in public too? He rather not.

"Shall we move?" You whispered knowingly, his eyes flickering up to your hues, he took a deep breath and then before you could say anything more you felt something slithering around your waist. You look down and it's Dan heng's tail—

"Sorry, I ..think, I might need your help." He whispered an apology and his hand that's on your waist now properly wrapped around your waist before he slide out from the couch, with you in his arms, and his tail wrapped around your waist. He walked all the way back to the passenger cabin, luckily no one was out from their room to see what's happening.

As soon as you two enter the archives, you should pray this man doesn't go overboard because everyone will definitely have a hard time to rest with the sound of your moans.

Whoops.

©onlyyourhallucination . 2025 || Do not copy/translate/use for ai

A/n — I miss danheng. fuck. Despite already seeing him in Amphoreus quest, I still miss him. 🥺..

Also, I apologize in advance if the chinese writing is wrong, I simply copy paste it from google (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Worst's Chapter 397

Brief summary: Eden is finally born.

==========

I think I know now why this chapter was delayed for so long. The author must have wanted Eden's birth to coincide with the Lunar New Year! Though it's the Year of the Snake now and not the Year of the Dragon which was last year.

Cale's DA fooled everyone into thinking it was the egg who had the aura of a ruler. 😂 Gashan's crows and Mary's skeletons "bowing down" and "kneeling" was also funny. 😂 Then there was HD parting the red clouds, and Eruhaben sending down a platinum lightning towards the egg, and which turned to platinum dust before it reached the ground. The special effects crew worked hard today! 😂😂😂

Cale and Raon approached the egg while invisible, thinking that there should at least be someone to embrace Eden when he was born. 🥰 And when Eden was born amidst a blinding light, Cale reaching out to him and feeling a front paw was so 🥰🥰🥰.

Then Cale raised Eden up high as the two stared at each other. Eden could finally talk, so he thanked Cale and said he liked his name. 🥰🥰🥰

Cale and Eden stared at each other. And Cale was startled. Because I saw dark brown eyes just like my own. A black body like Raon. But the golden patterns on its body reminded me of the Milky Way. And two small purple horns sprouted out.

Eden having the same eye color as Cale!!! 🥰🥰🥰And then there was this scene:

[The legend "The Birth of the Holy Evil, the Light Dragon" is recorded in New World!] Huh? Cale paused. What kind of dragon? "Light" Dragon? Are you talking about a dragon of light? But, "light" dragon… Something about this feels a bit off? You're not going to be crazy, right? Yeah, there's no way Eden Miru would do that.

For context, the word 광 (gwang) in Korean could mean "light" or "crazy". So Cale was wondering if Eden was a "Light Dragon" or a "Crazy Dragon." 😂😂😂

Oh yeah, Eden was cute. Even Cale acknowledged that.

Cale looked up. A dragon small enough to fit in two hands. Eden Miru was quite- uh, well- -Human, Eden Miru is so cute! As expected of the youngest! Uh… he's over 900 years old, but still cute. Seriously, he was born so cute that even Cale would recognize it. Though Eden Miru himself didn't seem to have noticed it yet.

Cale thought it was over now that the subquest was completed, but for some reason, it was not over???

“Fufu-” Clopeh Sekka made sure all the footage was in the storage and immediately began working on the second part. “Spread this out into the world.” New World, Earth 3. Spread it everywhere. Cale was so busy watching the cheers that he didn't realize the quest window fluctuated. [Birth Ceremony progress 307%] [Birth Ceremony progress 308%] [Birth Ceremony Progress 309%] The progress continued to climb. Cale still hadn't realized Clopeh Sekka's true intentions.

Ah... Clopeh discovered social media. 🤣🤣🤣 What kind of craziness was he up to now? Then again, it's the Year of the Snake now, so it's Clopeh's year.

Ending Remarks So many moving scenes today. 🥰 Next chapter would probably be Sheritt's reaction to Eden's birth.

🎊Happy Lunar New Year everyone! 🎉

[swampstew]

Tulips

Summary: sex pollen trope is infesting my brain.

Warnings: Eustass Kid X Female Reader, consent is implied, dom/sub dynamics, exhibitionism because its outside sex but no one actually witnesses it, vaginal penetration, etc etc.

Minor Do Not Interact

"Oi, Y/N. Where are you going?" the brash voice of your Captain stopped you in your tracks.

"Explore a little since we're still here. Is that not ok?" the carefree smile on your face creased with worry.

You had been growing closer with Eustass Kid day by day since you had joined the crew. In retrospect it wasn't that long ago he found you on your island and invited you to join him on his adventures. You did what you could to stay on his good side, and every opportunity you spent with him seemed to drag slowly as you learned more about each other; you wouldn't have it any other way.

He lit up every corner of your mind even when he wasn't in your presence. Infiltrating every region of your brain with his sexy, brooding demeanor. That only seemed to perk up when you kept him company. At least, you hoped that's what you saw and felt, and not something you imagined.

"How many times do I gotta tell ya - don't leave the ship without telling one of the higher ups! Don't wanna lose you, dummy."

"Well there's nobody else here so I thought it was no big deal!" you stuck your tongue out at him, "I'll try to remember next time."

Kid's face broke out with an amused look, "If you fall down into some ancient, underground dwelling and no one hears you, what then? Or if you come across a carnivorous plant that tries to eat you, you think you'd regret not telling someone you'd left the ship?"

"Oh my gods stop with your whataboutisms, I get it, I'm sorry! If you're so worried about me, come along then," you resumed your walk to the gangplank.

"Let's go on a side quest," you beamed up at him. Hoping your smile would win him over so you could greedily hog his attention.

Not that he was never not willing to give it to you. He seemed to enjoy making you beg for it lately, so you were trying a new approach that didn't feel quite so...pathetic for your own sake.

Kid studied you with a piercing gaze, the grin on his face never leaving. Only growing wider.

"Just us hmm? Sure, I guess I can spare the newest, and weakest, member some one-on-one time so they can feel safe. It's a big, scary world out there."

"Byyyeeeeee," you waved as you descended the ship, leaving him with a gaping mouth.

"Hey wait up!"

---

The weather was just right, not blazing hot and just enough cover from the foliage to create an intimate atmosphere. You could talk to him about anything and everything it felt like.

Coming up on a small field of flowers, the sudden burst of color made you hover over them in appreciation. Kid was standing behind as you smelled them. Admiring the way your curves and body rounded you out so perfectly that it made his eyes glaze over.

You let out a sneeze, straightened your posture and continued your walk. Kid watched you silently before moving, falling in step with you before you ever noticed he was gone. Soon you met a fork in the path.

“Which way?” you asked him.

“I dunno,” he smirked. Pulling a handful of flowers from behind his back, he handed them to you, not looking at you but at the two routes. “Pull the petals or something.”

Stunned, you took them, “Oh! But these are so pretty, I don’t think I can.”

With a snort, he plucked a stem from your fingers and began, “Left, right, left, right…”

You fidgeted as you waited, a sudden warmth taking over you, making you clench the stems in your hand hard enough to make them wilt.

“Left, right, aaaaaand left,” he shook the remains of the pollen in the air as he tossed the last petal. With a cool touch of his metal hand on your hip, he gently pushed you on, “C’mon, the flower decided.”

A blush touched your cheeks as you wordlessly let him lead. Kid’s touch lingered for a few yards before he let go, suddenly walking ahead a little faster.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, just scouting for a place to rest.”

You picked up your pace, yet you were no match against his long strides. He almost escaped your sight as he halted and let out a sigh of relief.

“This is a good spot. Hang out here, I need to take a leak.”

Without waiting for you, he jogged between the trees.

Perplexed, you reached a natural spring and some large, flat rocks stacked upon each other towering over the stream. You chose that spot to wait, enjoying the babble of water and low trill of insects in the breeze. Checking your watch every few minutes, you soon became impatient and rocked subtly against the stone, subconsciously seeking relief for a wispy ache.

After 15 minutes, you decided to look for your Captain. Maybe one of his wild warnings came true and he was impaled in a hole somewhere. Or he got lost. Neither option made you feel good. Thinking of his hulking, muscular body dirty and bloody, you bit your lip, gnawing on the idea of nursing him back to health in the wilderness all by yourself.

You heard frustrated curses and followed them to the source.

Eustass Kid, slamming through tree barks. The wood splintered from the impact, his mechanical arm not bothered by the strike moved on to the next tree. Grabbing the trunk with both arms—

--and rutting manically against it.

“Fuck fuck fuck!!! Go away!!!!” he bent his head down and seemingly screamed at himself.

“C-captain?” you stood a few feet from him, unsure if you should have called his attention or quietly run away while you had the chance. He seemed pissed.

Kid’s scowl should have sent your soul to the grave with how fierce it was, but the only thing you felt was your blood boiling and the ache in your body growing severely. You couldn’t help the way your body naturally shifted, thighs tightening and rubbing faintly.

He saw. His golden amber eyes never missed anything.

“Y/N,” his gravelly voice was lower than normal. Slowly, he stood to his full height and turned to you. A raging boner straining against his pants. “I-I think I’m having an allergic reaction or some shit,” he tried to explain.

Your eyes went from his face to his erection, to the flowers still in your hand. Cautiously you walked up to him, closing the distance he could feel your body heat despite not really being in contact with you. You dropped all but one to the ground, cradling the bulb in your palm as you put it in front of your faces.

And crushed it.

Puffs of pollen escaped between your fingers. Your body felt like it was a slow burning candle, and the fire was not where you yearned it to be. Kid’s pupils dilated they hardly left slivers of the color you love so much.

Your bodies crashed into each other with needy, hungry fervor. Kid’s lips devoured yours, metal hand clutching your body and pinning you to a nearby tree. You wrapped your hand around his covered cock and he let out a deep groan. He thrusted into your hand, hard enough that his body trapped yours against the tree, bucking with reckless abandon. It wasn’t long before you abandoned your grip and pulled yourself up and wrapped your legs around his waist.

He eagerly accepted the change of pace, using his flesh hand to grab at your ass to stabilize his grinding directly between your legs. A lovely melody spilled from your lips as he kept up his ministrations, unwilling to let go now after hearing the beautiful sounds you made for him. When he wasn’t even inside you yet.

It was for that reason he took his time walking back to the spring while groping and making out with you. Slamming you against every other tree so he could pleasure you both, drawing out the anticipation with agonizing edging and teasing.

“K-Ki—” you couldn’t speak, desperation robbing your brain cells as tears streamed from your eyes. “Please!”

“I’ll take care of you,” he bit your lower lip. Quick to shed both your clothes, he laid you against the smooth rock, caressing your shoulder and hip as you felt his hardened length pressing against your core.

You let out a needy whimper, Kid kissed you as he pushed in. Feeling your mewling cries against his lips, his tongue slipped into your mouth and freed your voice.

It rose higher and higher with each thrust of his cock. His own wanton moans joining yours in chorus as you climbed your peaks together.

“Fuuuck, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he groaned, panting heavily over you. “U-under different c-circ—”

You hushed him with a scrape of your nails against his back, “Me-me too! Don’t stop, don’t—”

Kid shifted and grabbed your legs to sit higher on his hips, slamming into you deeply. The edges of your being felt hazy as your core tightened. Your walls fluttered around him as he rolled his hips, your moans coming out near breathless as your orgasm washed over you.

You clamped on his cock with a strangled shriek, head hitting the stone and nails digging into his arms as you came. A veil of white flooded your vision as you rode the wave, feeling your body moving with his in synchrony. Sweet moans spilled from your lips with every slap of his balls against your sopping cheeks.

Kid’s hips stuttered, letting out a choked cry as his hips pistoned faster. You felt his cock twitch before it left your gummy walls. He jerked his hand on his cock and when that wasn’t enough he pressed his length against your quivering lips, tip of the head nestled over your clit, and rut his hips until he came.

You could feel the hot spurts land on your belly, smearing and spreading between your bodies as he kept going. Pushing you both to the point of overstimulation.

“I can’t I can’t fuck I don’t want to stop!!” he roared, burrowing his fingers deep into your skin to leave bruises.

You answered with your own grinding, hungry for so much more. With each slide of his cock, your stomach coiled, wounding tightly quickly.

When you came, it was pain, pleasure, euphoria, hysteria, and tingling numbness all at once as your body tensed and pulsed. You felt the wave crest and then wetness on you. Then hotter, heavier droplets as Kid followed you with his own bliss.

A pool of fluids mixed between your bodies as you stayed locked in position, both of you catching your breaths, hearts beating wildly against each other.

“I meant it,” he finally muttered. Raising his head to look at you, rubbing his fingers on your jaw, “I did and still do. Meant to wine and dine you first.”

You smiled tenderly, half-lidded eyes drinking him in, “You still can. I’ve been wanting that very much.”

“Yeah?” he leaned to kiss your cheek, his slight movements triggered his arousal as he swelled against you. “What else have you been wanting from me?”

“A few things,” you let out a shy giggle, “Want to try some of them out while we’re here?”

Kid grinned widely, “You can have me for as long as you’d like.”

Unbeknownst to either of you, the aphrodisiacal effects of the flowers you inhaled will last for several, several hours.

[kingdom-carer]

Unique agere writing prompts:

A bunch of young or inexperienced characters (the younger/less experienced the funnier) are hanging out together when suddenly one of them regresses. None of the others know what to do - “I don’t know how to take care of a baby!!! Do YOU know how to take care of a baby!?”

A character regresses alone … except for their pet. They pick up on the fact that their person is suddenly acting like a child, and takes care of them the best way a pet knows how. (Bonus points if the pet’s reasoning abilities are enhanced somehow, whether through creative storytelling or in-world magical properties.)

A character regresses and loses all of their speech. No cute babbles or lisping here - just complete silence. CG has to figure out what their baby wants through gestures alone, and that can be challenging depending on how young their kiddo is.

A character teen regresses around their superior or boss, becoming mouthy or being silly in a distracting manner. Boss/coworker quickly discourages that behavior, and teen is highly embarrassed and has to work through a lot of unhappy emotions regarding rebellion or rejection. The boss/coworker could be either caring or mean for this one.

Kiddo’s heart stops when they see someone who looks like Santa Claus on their day out. Without thinking, they approach him. The man is surprised to see them, but meets them with warmth and promises to write their Christmas wish down for the elves. Was it really Santa? Who knows?

Middle shyly admits that they are interested in something they got scolded for when they were young - and CG decided to join them in their quest to live out the dream, whether that’s funky hair, a new fandom, or a tricky hobby. Kiddo ends up rocking it, of course.

Digging up old writing or artwork pitches a middle into their headspace - and it is NOT a good one. CG isn’t sure why middle is being so bratty until they suddenly burst into tears, saying they hate themselves and they wish they could just disappear. CG offers to go through the sketchbook and praises each page lovingly as they do, but the drawings turn darker and darker …

CG has a hard day and wants to love on their kiddo to relax, but kiddo isn’t feeling particularly small and subtly tries to redirect the attempts at affection. CG gets more and more frustrated until they snap, shouting, throwing things, slamming doors and cabinets. So many repressed emotions bubbling up … CG immediately regrets what they’ve done and hides away in shame. Baby does their best to cheer CG up again, even if CG’s outburst scared them.

Kiddo is perfectly big when going about their day, but a sweet lady at the gas station starts calling them all sorts of pet names when she sees they’re upset and offers to pay for their snacks. Kiddo immediately tries to hold it together, but tears are still falling from their eyes.

CG or kiddo revisits their childhood home and reflects on their upbringing. Good? Bad? Ugly? You decide.

Middle revisits a school and realizes how … young they all are. Mentally, they’ve been stuck there for so long … but my, how far they’ve come.

Kiddo has to babysit a younger kiddo when there’s no one else around to care for them. Chaos ensues.

For some reason (possibly due to trauma or magic?), big cannot remember being little, even though the aftermath exists. They begin leaving notes to themselves when big, and get responses back when small. Slowly, they start to heal their hurt brains and bridge the gap between headspaces.

Big actually goes back in time to meet their little self. Who have they become in the eyes of this tiny person?

Kiddo is afraid of making messes and getting in trouble, so CG responds with sensory bins, mud puddles, shaving cream kiddie pools, and other activities where getting messy is the name of the game. There are lots of big feelings, but nothing a little food fight can’t fix.

CG misses their kiddo so much it hurts. They snuggle a pillow and tend to their stuffies, but it isn’t the same. They call their kiddo just to see how they’re doing, and kiddo can tell it’s hard for them to be apart; so they decide to get their CG a pet.

A kiddo with powers has to relearn to use them when small, since channeling energy takes focus … and so does repressing a magical outburst when upset.

A CG starts falling in love with someone … and kiddo notices, taking it upon themself to help them get together by being “sneakily” romantic. Naturally it is not quite as subtle as they intended.

You’ve heard of “caught being little,” now get ready for “caught being a CG.” Why IS this box full of band-aids and stuffed animals and grab-and-go play packs and electrolytes in your closet?

[bananasplit133]

Between Shadows and Light (Part 2)

Alternate Invincible | Mark Grayson/reader

(Part 1) - (Part 3)

Summary: In this chapter, the protagonist deepens their friendship with Mark, known as Invincible. As they share conversations in the café, Mark reveals his loneliness and the thrill he finds in instilling fear. The protagonist supports him, encouraging Mark to see himself as more than just a figure of fear. The chapter ends with a growing connection between them, allowing their friendship to develop at a slow pace amidst the chaos of their world.

Words: 1,866

------

The next few days at the café unfolded in a comfortable routine, but thoughts of Mark lingered in your mind like the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Each time the bell above the door jingled, a flicker of anticipation ignited within you, yet you maintained a steady patience, understanding that genuine friendships take time to build—even with someone as complex and sinister as him.

As you wiped down the counter one evening, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with vibrant shades of orange and pink. You were lost in thought, recalling your conversations with Mark, when the bell jingled. Looking up, a small smile formed on your lips as he stepped inside, wearing a casual black hoodie that made him appear more approachable. The familiar silhouette brought a sense of warmth to the otherwise cool evening, even as a hint of danger clung to his presence.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice steady, betraying none of the excitement that bubbled beneath the surface.

“Evening,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced around the café. “Mind if I grab a seat?”

“Not at all. Your usual?”

He nodded, and you poured him a cup of black coffee, observing him as he settled into the corner booth. There was a relaxed air about him today, but the faint shadows under his eyes hinted at the burdens he carried—not just as a person but as a figure of fear in this chaotic world. You found yourself curious about what thoughts might be swirling in that mind of his.

As you joined him at the table, you set the coffee down in front of him and took a seat across. “So, what’s on your mind today?” you asked, genuinely interested in his thoughts.

Mark took a sip of his coffee, contemplating your question. “I’ve been thinking about our last conversation. You have a way of making me reconsider my outlook on things.”

You shrugged, pleased to hear he was reflecting on your words. “Sometimes it helps to talk things through. Life can be overwhelming, and everyone needs a sounding board now and then.”

“True,” he replied, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “I’ve realized I haven’t had many conversations like this in a while. Most people avoid me or just want something from me.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “But I’m glad you’re here now. You deserve to have people in your life who want to know you, not just Invincible.”

His gaze met yours, and for a moment, the tension in the air shifted to something lighter. “It’s nice to hear that. I guess I’m just used to being seen as this larger-than-life figure. It’s refreshing to talk to someone who sees beyond that.”

“That’s how I feel,” you said, smiling softly. “I’m just here to serve coffee and make sure people enjoy their time. If that means chatting with Invincible, then so be it.”

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “I’ll take it as a compliment. It’s not often I get to just… be me.”

As the two of you chatted, the conversation flowed easily. You found yourselves discussing everything from the state of the world to your favorite childhood memories. Each word exchanged drew you closer, building a foundation of friendship that felt genuine and steady, even with the shadow of his sinister nature looming over your interactions.

“Do you ever miss it?” Mark asked, his voice low, a hint of nostalgia in his tone. “The way things used to be before everything changed?”

You paused, considering his question. “Sometimes. I miss the way the café used to buzz with life, the laughter and chatter. But I also believe that we can find ways to create new memories. It’s just going to take time.”

“Time,” he echoed, leaning back in his seat. “That’s something I’m not particularly good at.”

“You’re not alone in that,” you replied. “We all struggle with patience, especially when we want things to change quickly. But friendships take time to build, just like anything else worth having.”

Mark looked at you, a mix of appreciation and curiosity in his gaze. “You really think we can get back to something resembling normal?”

“I have to believe that,” you said firmly. “If we don’t hold onto hope, then what’s left? We have to create our own sense of normalcy, even if it’s just in our small corner of the world.”

He nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think I’m starting to understand that. Maybe there’s more to this than I initially thought.”

Just then, the bell above the door jingled, and a few more customers entered, breaking the intimate moment. You stood, glancing around to ensure everyone was settled before returning your focus to Mark.

As the café buzzed with life, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. Your conversations with Mark had become a highlight of your shifts, and while you were aware of the darker undertones of his persona, you were in no rush to push it further. You valued the growing friendship, the gradual unfolding of trust, and the shared laughter that brightened even the darkest days.

Over the next few weeks, Mark continued to visit the café regularly. Each time he entered, you felt a familiar flutter of anticipation, but you kept your demeanor calm and collected. You shared stories, jokes, and insights, allowing the bond between you to deepen without rushing into anything more. Each interaction felt like a carefully woven thread, adding strength to the tapestry of your friendship.

Mark opened up about his life, the pressures he faced as Invincible, and the loneliness that often accompanied his power. You listened intently, offering a safe space for him to express himself while being mindful of the darkness that lurked within him. He spoke about how people cowered before him, how the fear he instilled kept them in line. There was a twisted satisfaction in his words that sent a chill down your spine, but you remained steadfast, determined to understand the man behind the mask.

One evening, as the sun set and the café emptied, Mark lingered at the counter, his expression contemplative. “You know, I never thought I’d find a place like this—where I could just relax and be myself.”

You smiled softly, wiping down the counter. “I’m glad you feel that way. It’s nice to have you here, Mark. It feels like I’m getting to know the real you.”

He chuckled, a hint of warmth in his voice. “The real me is a work in progress. But you’re making it easier to embrace that.”

“Good,” you replied, meeting his gaze with sincerity. “We all have our layers, and it’s okay to take your time revealing them. I’m just happy to be part of the journey.”

As the evening wore on, you found yourselves lost in conversation, the connection between you growing stronger. Each shared moment felt like a step toward something more profound, yet you were content to savor the friendship that was blossoming between you.

“Have you ever thought about what you want to do once things settle down?” you asked, curiosity piquing as you leaned forward. “What are your dreams beyond being Invincible?”

Mark paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “Honestly? I haven’t had time to think about it. Everything is so chaotic right now. But I do enjoy the power I hold over people. It’s fascinating to see how fear can control them.”

“Is that what you want?” you asked, your curiosity growing. “To control people through fear?”

He hesitated, the tension in his shoulders evident. “It’s part of my nature. I thrive on it. It’s amusing to watch them cower, to know I can bend their will.”

You nodded, understanding the darkness in his words. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t find a balance. You have the ability to use your power in different ways, even if it’s not what you typically do.”

Mark regarded you quietly, the intensity of his gaze making you feel seen in a way that was both exhilarating and daunting. “You really believe that?”

“I do,” you replied, your voice firm. “But it has to start with you wanting to be that person. You can’t let the darkness define you.”

He nodded slowly, processing your words. “You’re really good at this, you know. Most people would just give up on someone like me.”

“Maybe they don’t see the potential,” you said, shrugging lightly. “I see you as someone who has the chance to grow and change, even if it means grappling with the darkness within.”

Mark’s expression shifted slightly, revealing a glimmer of something deeper. “You have a way of making me feel… hopeful. It’s strange.”

“Hope is a good thing, even when it’s hard to hold onto,” you replied softly. “And you don’t have to navigate this alone. I’m here, and I’m happy to be part of your journey.”

He smiled, the warmth in his eyes bringing a flutter to your chest. “Thank you for that. It’s not often I find someone who genuinely cares.”

The atmosphere between you felt charged, and you sensed the bond between you deepening. Yet, you were both content to remain in this phase of friendship, allowing it to flourish at its own pace.

Eventually, the café began to empty, the last customers drifting out into the night. You glanced at the clock, realizing your shift was coming to an end. Reluctantly, you prepared to close up, the thought of leaving Mark behind filling you with an unexpected sense of longing.

“Hey,” you said, turning to him as you wiped down the counter one last time. “I should get going, but I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Same here,” Mark replied, a genuine smile lighting up his features. “I’ll be back soon. You can count on that.”

With a final wave, you stepped outside, the cool night air enveloping you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something meaningful—a slow burn of friendship, unfolding in the shadows of a world transformed by fear.

As the weeks turned into months, the café became a sanctuary for both of you. With each visit, Mark shared more of himself, his walls slowly crumbling under the weight of your patience and understanding. You learned about his struggles, the expectations placed on him, and the moments of loneliness that accompanied his power. You also witnessed the enjoyment he derived from the fear he instilled in others, a part of him that you couldn't ignore.

Mark became a constant presence in your life, and your friendship blossomed like the flowers in spring. You found comfort in his company, and with every laugh shared and every story told, the bond between you grew stronger.

And while the thought of a deeper connection occasionally crossed your mind, you both seemed content to explore the friendship that was blossoming between you. There was something beautiful about the way you interacted, each moment laced with the potential for something more, but never rushing into it.

For now, you were friends navigating the complexities of a chaotic world together, and that was enough.

[oh-my-damn]

Sleepy Orange

Pairing: Astarion x Female!Tav/reader

Summary: You come back from a fight exhausted beyond belief. Astarion does his best to take care of you. Part of that includes peeling your orange.

Wordcount: 1300

Warnings: None. Pure, unadulterated fluff. A happy, sappy, in love Astarion (just as he deserves to always be)

Masterlist

You huffed as your tired body plopped down on the bed in your tent, a groan spilling out when you land on the many pillows adorning it.

Your head lolls back as your eyes droop closed, every muscle in your body aching from your escapades today.

It had been a long one. A long and rough one. It felt like you'd been fighting for days when you finally came out victorious, but the price of winning meant that you'd been covered in blood and bruises.

One long bath later, you were finally back in your tent, lit candles scattered about, jewel-shade pillows in velvety fabrics adorning the space.

Your living accommodations had certainly become more colorful and frivolous ever since you and Astarion had decided to shack up together.

It had been an accident, at first. Your relationship had it's ups and downs, but after defeating Cazador, he finally told you how he felt. He laid himself bare for you, not just his body but his soul as well, and your heart soared at the idea that the man you fell for so recklessly finally loved you back. Even with everything the two of you had gone through.

Eventually, it came to a point where the two of you would spend every night in each others arms, either in your own tent or his. So naturally, you came to the conclusion that it would be easier if you just shared one tent. Together.

It had taken a period of adjustment, at first, but it didn't take long for both of you to find a home in your newly shared accommodations. For Astarion, an important part of his living space was that it be elegant, and comfortable – at least whatever comfortable meant to his standards. For you, it felt more lavish than anything, but after a while you started to find your own comfort in merely the thought that he loved the space. You found comfort in the thought that he felt at home, considering it had been so long since he'd felt that way.

You and Astarion aside, however, your work was still cut out for you on the fighting front. Defeating Cazador was nowhere near the end for you, even despite of Astarion now being a free – albeit still spawn – vampire, your main quest remained the same, and you were still fighting day to day to make it happen. Which is why you're currently camped out on the outskirts of Baldur's Gate, planning your next move.

Unfortunately for you and your companions, your presence in Baldur's Gate didn't exactly please everyone, which is why a group of mercenaries had cornered you earlier, prepared for a fight. They got one, but victory didn't come easily, which is why you're now achingly sore to the point of almost crying.

Your bones ache, so do your muscles, and your stomach feels empty beyond what could possibly be deemed healthy, but you're simply too tired to make any food.

You almost manage to drift off right there, in just your casual outfit on top of piles of velvet pillows, when you hear soft steps approaching, entering your tent.

You already know who it is just by the sound of his steps, how silent they are; you can tell that the only reason there's a sound at all is for your benefit, to alert you of his presence.

When he speaks, his voice is soft, laced with worry, a gentle whisper that caresses your mind, lulling you gently.

"Darling. Please tell me you're not dead."

A tired smile works its way onto your face, but your eyes remain closed as you murmur, "I'm alive."

"Thank the gods," Astarion responds, and you can just imagine the characteristic smirk on his face as he speaks, "Because if you were, I'm sure our companions wouldn't hesitate to suspect it be my doing."

You can hear him ruffling about faintly, closing the flaps to your tent to grant the two of you privacy, but your mind is already desperately slipping towards dream-state, only urged on by your body.

A beat passes before he speaks again, more quietly this time, but his voice is clearer than before despite it, which indicates he's moved closer to you.

"Have you eaten anything yet?"

You mumble something inaudible, but you manage to shake your head slowly, your eyes staying closed as you remain too tired to offer him a proper response.

He let's out a sigh, one that's steeped in worry rather than disappointment, and then you feel something cold gently brush over your cheek. His fingers.

"You need to eat, my darling. I know you're tired, but you haven't eaten all day. What can I get you?"

Your brows furrow as you shift slightly on the bed, tilting your cheek into his embrace. He cups it carefully, his cold touch soothing on your skin when his thumb caresses it.

"Mh, dunno.." Your response is barely there, but Astarion doesn't move away, his voice determined.

"I cannot in good consciousness let you sleep before you eat at least a little bit. How about fruit? An apple, perhaps?"

You grunt, your brows furrowing as your head shakes.

Astarion tuts gently at your antics, his fingers brushing over your forehead in a soothing manner, "Okay, my sweet, point taken. No apples. An orange then, would that entice you?"

You hesitate. An orange does sound absolutely perfect right now.

But then you let out a whine, "Too tired to peel it."

Astarion chuckles softly, his fingers gently sliding down the bridge of your nose as he whispers, "Don't fret, my dear."

The bed shifts again, his cool touch leaving your face, but it doesn't take long before your mind steals you away again, luring you into your dream state.

You're almost there when you feel movement again, your brows furrowing slightly as your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips.

Astarion gently slides a hand down your arm, his voice quiet, "I'm back, my love. I've got something for you, won't you indulge me in having a few bites?"

You stir at his words, settling against the pillows again, and then you feel something prod at your lips as he speaks again, "Open up for me, darling."

Your lips part, and he gently feeds you an orange slice, the taste making you hum when you bite down on it.

Astarion smiles at the tired look on your face, further peeling the orange to get more slices when you chew them.

"There we go. Tastes good, yes?"

You nod sleepily, blinking owlishly to look up at him through tired eyes. His smile widens when your eyes meet his, his adept fingers expertly peeling the orange without issue, "There she is. My little warrior."

You let out a tired chuckle at his words, parting your lips when he offers you another orange slice.

"Just a few more, darling. Then I'll let you rest."

You nod, your eyes fluttering closed again, but it doesn't deter him from feeding you the remaining orange slices as he speaks to you quietly to keep you awake.

"You were a sight for sore eyes today. I bet Gale is jealous you're not halfway to passed out in his bed right now."

You let out a snort at his words, shaking your head which makes him chuckle, "Now now, stay still, you little vixen. Eat the last of your orange."

You comply, chewing the last few bites and swallowing with a satisfied hum once you finish. His cool fingers gently caress your face, first your cheek and then down to your jaw, before you feel him lean closer. You feel his lips brush a kiss to your forehead, and then another on the tip of your nose before he whispers, "Thank you for eating. You may sleep now, my treasure."

[bomber-grl]

Enemies to lovers with Leo Valdez

Pairing(s): Leo Valdez x Gn!Reader

If anything it probs stemmed from a misunderstanding

Maybe you were cranky the first two times he ever approached you

And perhaps you may have taken it out on him

And maybe just maybe he thought u were those stereotypical condescending people

Basically what ensued from then on was just you two attacking each other verbally each time you ran into each other

But then you’re officially introduced to him by either Percy or Annabeth or anyone else that’s part of the 7 that’s close to you

He’d be especially shocked if it’s Piper or Jason who introduces you two to eachother

Of course that doesn’t automatically solve anything and you’re both total assholes to each other still

Leo is complaining about you and how could any of his friends also be yours?

You feel the same exact way

And unfortunately this is a case of forced proximity as is all my hcs because I’m an uncreative bitch

Maybe it’s just me but I’d imagine constant bickering and making faces would be a bit hard to ignore and go unnoticed

So they all agree to force you two to get along

So you’re on the Argo ll and are forced to clean the stables

(Before the Athena Parthenos is put there obv)

It’s not messy messy but it’s still something

You two both finally agreed to be quiet

But then he gets almost thrown out the window by the ship getting rocked by a monster or something

And so you have to save him by obligation

You two are literally hanging out the window and Leo is yelling like crazy bro

Eventually you bring him back and he thanks you

It was done reluctantly- you make sure he knows that

Plus the situation gives you material to make fun of him for 💀

Then some time after that you’re fighting some daily monsters and he (despite not rlly being a fighter) helps you out by firing some of the weapons on the Argo

This incident spawns this unspoken alliance??

Literally everyone else is made aware of it too and even they’re confused

But honestly at least you’re not constantly at each others throats anymore

Instances where you saved each others asses continued from then on out

It got to the point where you saved eachother so often that you became literal 4lifers

Like genuinely enjoying each other’s company despite the occasional off handed remarks

There was obvious tension that you were both teased for by your individual friends

Even couch Hedge acknowledged it 💀

And youd both deny it

I mean it was the obvious choice

But there had always been tension between you two if you’re being honest

Like if someone asked you if you thought Leo was cute , well let’s not say you’d say he was, just that you really couldn’t deny it

And so your interactions and dynamic continued all the way until the prophecy that started this quest came to an end

And so did you interacting with Leo

He was dead, and despite having liked him, you’d never be able to tell him.

That’s something you had come to accept, and something you realized you’d never get the chance to admit to him

Until you could.

Leo appears back at camp with Calypso in tow

Let’s just say Leo felt ok about her and saved her cuz he’s a good guy and she went along cuz she wanted an escape)

Anyway like everyone else you line up to hit him

Ain’t no way you’re running to him when there’s so many other ppl infront 💀

Gods forbid YOU end up being the one that gets jumped

Even from the good amount of distance you’re away from him you can still very much see his- what can be best as described- upset demeanor

Why he looked that way? You didn’t know and couldn’t tell even if held at gunpoint

Well anyways eventually you end up face to face with him and his expression can’t even be described with just a few words

So ill try anyway

Hes absolutely star struck and, in truth, made breathless from the sight of you alone

I mean with the way Leo looks at you, you’d think he spotted his only true want in this world.

The guy doesn’t say anything at all but then he sorta gains consciousness (?)

He tries to hug you but then hesitates- tries again/ then hesitates

Before he could do anything else you slap the hell out of him 💀

The act is honestly so violate and loud it was genuinely startling

Some would say that you jumped him that day of his return but what did they know??

And then you hugged him

A deep, emotionally charged hug

All the days you had spent mourning him, being tortured by his death that you couldn’t help but feel was avoidable despite the prophecy-

And yet you couldn’t help but melt into the hug

Obviously awkwardness follows after- and for a good while after too

But in the end you two end up together (per advice from emmie and Jo once Apollo casually mentioned the undefined relationship between you two as defense against a remark Leo had made)

And after Apollo is done at the waystation (and you’re not already involved there)Leo will ask if you’d want to stay there together and go to school and be “normal” teens.

The answer is up to you, but we all know what you’re gonna choose

Cmon you’re reading this so you’re obviously down bad 💀

[cece693]

Hiiii

I recently saw your fanfic of Percy with son of Demeter reader and I was wondering if you could write a fanfic of like how the 2 met/how they started dating

Daisy (Percy Jackson x Son of Demeter)

Wow, I wasn't expecting so much love for my son of Demeter headcannon/fanfic. TBH, I haven't thought much about how they would meet and the lead-up to their relationship, however, I think it came out nice. Hope you enjoy it!

Percy had always heard whispers of the son of Demeter. However, your paths wouldn’t cross until Grover began his search for Pan, the lost god of the wild. Since you were the son of the goddess of harvest—and, to some extent, wilderness and wildlife—you were quickly asked to join their quest.

When you first met Percy, it was clear that you two didn’t really hit it off. What did you even have in common, aside from your mutual friendship with Grover? Your powers weren't exactly on the same field, in fact, they contradicted on another.

How would one grow plants with sea water anyway? Your initial encounters were awkward, filled with hesitant exchanges and misunderstandings.

These differences led to quite a few conflicts between the two of you—not only were your powers different, but your personalities clashed as well. Percy, always ready for a fight, relied on his sword and his natural inclination to dive headfirst into danger.

You, on the other hand, preferred a more strategic approach. Your method was to analyze situations carefully, using your knowledge of nature and the environment to find solutions. While you knew how to wield a weapon, you often sought to avoid confrontation, believing that there was always a way to resolve problems without resorting to violence.

You called him reckless plenty of times, while he hinted your 'hesitation' as a drawback for the quest.

The growing tension between you didn’t go unnoticed by Grover, who often tried to mediate, cracking jokes and redirecting the conversation whenever you two began to butt heads.

It was during one of those moments—when Percy had charged ahead to fight a monster, leaving you to cover his back—that you began to see glimpses of the strengths each of you brought to the quest.

This change in mindset brought you two closer, evolving your relationship from mere acquaintances to something resembling friendship. Then that friendship soon becomes you two being best friends as the quest comes to a close.

This is where Percy fucks up....

Because as he watches you tend to one of the many plants in Camp Half-Blood, kneeling in the dirt with the sun shinning brightly above you, Percy suddenly finds you beautiful.

The way your e/c eyes sparkle with tenderness as you speak to the plants as if they were old friends, coaxing blooms to open with your gentle words. The sight was captivating; the way you interacted with nature stirred something deep within him.

Percy couldn’t help but admire the serenity you exuded, and for the first time, he began to realize that his feelings for you had shifted beyond friendship.

Of course, after this realization, he runs off in search of Grover, almost tripping over his own feet.

“Grover!” Percy exclaimed, eyes wide with urgency. “I think I have a problem.” Taking a deep breath, the words tumbled out in a rush. “It’s about [Your Name]. I mean, I knew we were getting closer, but watching him with the plants...It’s like he’s in his element, and I can’t stop thinking about how incredible he is.” His heart raced as he spoke, the realization hitting him like a wave crashing against the shore. “I think I like him—like, really like him. More than just friends.”

Grover’s eyes lit up, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Finally! I was wondering when you’d catch on. You should tell him!”

“But what if it ruins our friendship?”

“You won’t know unless you try,” Grover urged, his tone encouraging. “And even if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, he's your friend. He'll understand."

Of course, Percy didn’t follow through with Grover’s advice right away. Instead, he decided to wait, hoping for any sign of interest from you before making his crush known.

Then, one sunny afternoon, he stumbled upon you laughing and hanging out with a son of Apollo. You were seated on the grass, surrounded by blooming flowers, the sunlight enhancing your already radiant presence. The boy’s charming demeanor and easy laughter seemed to draw you in, and Percy’s heart sank as he watched from a distance.

It was painfully clear in that moment—this boy was everything you deserved. After all, who wouldn’t want to be with the child of Apollo? He was the perfect match for a son of Demeter: sun, plants, growth, and all things flourishing.

Percy’s chest tightened as jealousy surged through him, mixing with a sense of hopelessness. He concluded that it was no use; you clearly had found someone else, someone who could nurture the garden of your heart better than he ever could.

With that thought, he began to create distance between you two, forcing himself to suppress his feelings to maintain the friendship he had grown to cherish. He convinced himself that being your friend was better than risking everything for something that would never be.

Unbeknownst to him, you noticed the sudden coldness in Percy’s demeanor. At first, you thought it was just a phase—perhaps he was dealing with something personal—but as days turned into weeks, his absence felt more like a gaping hole in your life.

As you tried to engage him, Percy would respond with short answers, avoiding any conversation that might bring you closer. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, and worry gnawed at you. Did you say something wrong? Was he upset about something that you did?

Every time you spotted him with his friends, laughing and joking, a pang of disappointment shot through you. Why was he pushing you away? You longed to reach out, to bridge the distance he had created, but you didn’t know how to break through the wall he had built around himself.

The perfect opportunity presented itself when you found the son of Poseidon sitting by the lake, tossing pebbles mindlesly across the water.

“Percy,” you called out, taking a deep breath as you approached him. He looked up, surprise flashing across his face. “Can we talk?”

He nodded, but the unease lingered in the air as you sat down beside him. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been distant lately, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve done something to upset you.”

Percy hesitated, his expression conflicted as he searched for the right words. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not you. It’s me,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I thought you and the son of Apollo were…I don’t know, more than friends. And it just hurt to see you so happy with him. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. “Percy, we’re just friends! I never dated him,” You took a breath and decided to be honest. “I like you, Percy. I’ve liked you for a while now. I didn’t know how to say it, and then seeing you pull away…it hurt.”

His eyes widened in surprise, a spark of hope igniting in his expression. “You like me?” he asked, disbelief mingling with excitement.

You nodded, a shy smile breaking through your earlier frustration. “Yeah, I do. I thought maybe you didn’t feel the same way, so I didn’t say anything.”

Relief washed over him, and a grin spread across his face. “I thought I was the only one. I’ve been such an idiot for not saying anything sooner.” With a mix of laughter and newfound courage, Percy reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “So, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I’d love to.”

[krakenartificer]

Who wants a really sad Leverage headcanon?

Was re-watching the Gimme a K Street Job -- Season 5 Episode 5 -- and a couple of things stood out to me.

1) Nate says "Let's go steal some congresspeople", and then sends everyone on the team (except Parker, who's being a cheer coach) out to con one of their targets. But it feels like there's a profound mismatch in who gets which mark.

For the "not like other girls" feminist congresswoman who's inclined to dismiss cheer as worthless and demeaning, you need Eliot to come in looking like a man who very much knows what does and does not count as a sport, and be his tiny angry respect-women-juice self about how regardless of what you think of their choice of clothing they are working as hard as any other athlete and they deserve safety as much as anyone else. But instead they sent Hardison.

For the "Yes I am very busy and important; admire me" chairman, you need Sophie, who is better than anyone else on the planet at making you feel admirable when you're doing what she wants, and scummy and low when you're not doing what she wants. But instead they sent Eliot.

For the "Look I am trying, but I need corn subsidies or I won't be able to do anything else" newbie congressman, Hardison could happily have gone on an infinitely recurring series of fetch quests until he sees the place where they loop around and bottom out and every problem solves every other problem. But instead they sent Sophie.

2) Eliot struggles the most, so Nate works with him the most, but he doesn't help him out hardly at all; he just keeps saying, "So what's your next play?" and then revealing that he's already anticipated Eliot's next play and has all the materials in place to enact it. And of course, they do eventually get the dude on board, and it all works out, but afterwards, Eliot tells Nate, "I trust that some time soon you'll tell me why you had me slogging through all that when you already knew how to hook him."

And of course, knowing what we now know about how season 5 ends, it makes sense that Nate is trying to train the OT3 to work without him, looking for his replacement.

Except.

If the plan is to fuck off into the sunset with Sophie, then why did he throw Sophie into this uncomfortable not-my-wheelhouse scenario?

No, Nate's preparing the entire team to carry on without him. He's forcing them to learn how to plan, learn different ways of approaching problems, to think about bigger pictures and approach them strategically.

...

I think Nate just got the first diagnosis of the disease that's finally going to kill him. And again, we -- the audience -- now know that he's going to live for many years after that initial diagnosis. But he doesn't know that, at this point. He knows he's tested positive, and he knows it's eventually going to kill him, and he has no idea how long he has.

And in some sense, it doesn't matter how long he has. Three months or thirty years, that kind of revelation makes it stunningly clear that taking care of the people you love means making sure that they can take care of themselves.

So that's what he does: he throws them into new, uncomfortable situations where they'll have to grow and support each other without him, so that no matter what happens, they'll be able to keep going. Because he's not a nice person, Jimmy Ford's son, but by God does he know the importance of protecting your family.

[fattummyt]

Halsin/Plus-Size Female Reader - "Verily, verily, I say unto you" 🌶

Summary: One close encounter brings you and Halsin unexpectedly closer.

Read it on AO3 here!

Author's Notes: While technically it’s my second shared, this is actually my first Halsin or BG3 fanfiction in general! Perhaps you’ll be able to tell.

Do I know this man? No. Do I know this fandom? No. Do I even go here?! Also, no. Would I fuck him within an inch of my life? Yes.

Anyways, Y/N = your name.

Enjoy!

Your party happens upon a rather deep appearing gulch spanning for miles in either direction that is blocking the path forward. Certainly some use of your clever magic could create a bridge or contraption to allow you to cross it. Instead, Halsin, who behind you has lagged at the back of the party, urges you to spare your already dwindling energy and allow him to take the lead.

Unlike the rest of you, he maintains quite a significant stature, which would allow him to leap across the rather large gap. As a much safer option for the rest of you, he opts to use his strength, allowing him to easily toss your party members safely across.

He starts by kneeling to the ground, allowing those ahead to step into his grasp, launching them one by one across the expanse.

You're a bit unsure, questioning the stability of this method given your size, however when it's nigh your time to approach, Halsin offers his hand, which you quickly take. He rests your hand against his shoulder, just before he grasps around your waist, pulling you against his front, and lifting you beneath your knees so he may leap to the other side of the gulch himself.

“A personal escort for the fine lady.”

As he lands to the ground, you're thoroughly shocked. Still recovering from the exhilaration of being carried so swiftly while also being held nearly face to face with Halsin.

The easy smirk never wiped from his face as he set you down to your unsteady feet, speaking. “Do mind the tree roots, there's plenty to trip over along this path.”

Between his hand resting against your upper back and the glance backward toward the deep ravine you'd just floated over, you were struggling to form words or thoughts in general.

“All's well?” Your party leader asked, recognizing your hesitation and you nodded, signaling to your members to continue forward. Halsin followed their lead, starting ahead of you as well, which was ideal given the fact that you could hardly stand the idea of him even looking at you after that short encounter.

He was large and aged and rugged in a way you'd never really desired in a man until you met him. You made a more concerted effort to keep up with them now, though it remained clear that given his size, a hike like this was no struggle. In fact, he was taking fairly short strides in order to maintain his place in the back, whereas you were nearly doubling your comfortable walking pace just to remain in proximity with the party.

He'd glanced back at you momentarily every few meters when it became clear by your breathing that you were now struggling to maintain the party’s pace. Each time he did so you stuck your eyes to the ground beside you, nearly holding your breath in hopes that you wouldn't draw his concern.

Perhaps he sensed that you'd rather not be bothered with his concern— rather not be treated differently for bearing your size. You solely wished to continue and remain stoic and unburdening. Perhaps he understood the moral trouble with that line of thinking but respected your desires, anyway.

Regardless, the memory of his touch rested upon you, from the lingering pressure of his grasp to the sensation of his hands against your many rolls until it began to fade from your mind. It was saddening, like the experience of losing the joy a new toy once brought you, in turn making you crave that feeling more. That allowed you to focus on your quest at hand again, to push the idea of him separate from your mind long enough to be able to make eye contact and convincingly smile reassuringly without your nerves threatening to nearly springing forth from your skull.

“We shall set up camp here for tonight. Take care to get your rest as we'll be departing bright and early tomorrow.”

The gods were charitable on this very evening as you'd managed to find a place of rest before your legs threatened to give way. It was quite lovely, really. When you found a rock to lean against, you tossed off your knapsack, and rested your feet atop it. Allowing the coming breeze to cool all the warm areas of your body that had grown sticky with sweat felt heavenly.

It'd be wise to begin preparing your tent nearer to camp. Find an ideal location away from Astarion who'd surely be prattling on about literature and such, but you simply couldn't be bothered to.

You couldn't be bothered to even speak to the others until the sun was settled beneath the horizon and the stars outnumbered the aches and pains in your body.

“Is that comfortable? Y/N?” As your eyes opened you settled on Halsin who had a curious grin on his face, a much more casual and relaxed look to him now that he'd taken his leathers and bracers off. “I am.” You replied, briefly. “The shape of that rock doesn't trouble you?” He chuckled, as if disbelieving. “It’s quite flat and smooth. I'm truly quite comfortable like this.”

“Is that so?” He started. “Then perhaps may I posit a trade? In exchange for your resting spot I may set up your tent?”

“Truly?” You asked, taken aback.

“I prefer to rest openly in nature, and it's quite difficult to find such a comfortable rock in such an area. Take it from me.”

You laughed at the idea that the man had a preferred type of sleeping rock, yet you indulged him for his efforts, kicking your aching feet from the roll of tent stacked atop your nap sack.

“I take that as a yes?” He bent down and lifted the bag, easily retrieving it. “Absolutely.”

“Huzzah.” He nodded. “Now where shall I place it?”

There was a litany of fine locations. You'd learned quickly during your travels to resist the urge to rest too close to others, many of which spent their evenings spiritedly chatting, or enjoying their alone time. Though it was also wise not to rest too far from the others, lest a foe cut you off from your party or you have the misfortune of bearing witness to your comrades' unburdening their bowls. So finding an ideal location to plant yourself for the night was always a challenging one. Made worse by Halsin's charming gaze on you as you quickly looked around.

“If I may suggest, I believe this would make a fine spot.” He pointed to a grassy patch just mere feet away from your current resting spot. ”There?” You laughed, “Why there?”

“Seems rather cozy. And is merely a short distance away by foot.” He nodded to your boots which reminded you of the rather exhausting and aching numbness in your feet once more. Having rested for just a short while had allowed the soreness to begin to set in. The longer you waited the more difficult it'd be to continue moving through the rest of the night.

Now was not the time to tarry too long. “Brilliant.” You nodded, “That's perfect.” “I'll get on it.” He smiled, turning to begin what was incredibly quick work of preparing your tent.

You could hardly rest now, thinking about how kind he was to consider your needs and set up your tent. After thinking on it, you quickly ushered yourself to your feet, wobbling a bit unsteadily before you walked yourself further into camp. While you were, albeit, thankful, you were determined to contribute, to be of some use in some way.

Surely you could be of some help in setting other's camping tents up. Or collecting additional kindling for camp fires. However every opportunity you encountered ended with the same answer. “I'm fine. You should enjoy some rest.”

You rarely rested just after an expedition. Despite your body telling you to, it oftentimes felt far too busy, too energetic for you to comfortably rest when others were around working. Though now, with nothing to do but await the eventual supper call, sleep all but called to you now.

As you returned to your tent now, Halsin was nowhere to be found. You didn't wish to disturb him if he hadn't completed his efforts, but surely he could finish later. Three sticks and a blanket would make sufficient enough cover for you if needed. You laid yourself against the fabric laid across the ground, tucking your discarded cloak beneath your head as a temporary pillow.

As soon as he returned you'd quickly move out the way for him… surely.

When you awoke again you felt so entirely well rested, it was almost as if you'd been recharged for the day. Except… It was still night. As you raised your head, you recognized the sensation of something over your body… a blanket. Someone must have entered the tent and tossed a blanket over you… Halsin must have tossed a blanket over you.

Looking now, all of your items have been laid out for you as well. Your plush sleep companion revealed to you as you pulled your blanket away from your body. You flustered thinking about him knowing about it.

There was no distant talking or drunken revelry to be overheard or witnessed as you looked your head out your tent. In fact, the kindling flames of the camp fires seemed to cast the area in a low glow. That is, except the one closest to you, just beside Halsin’s resting spot, where he laid, propped quite comfortably against his rock, appearing to whittle at something in his hands.

As soon as he caught a glimpse of you exiting your tent he was quick with a nod. Urging you over to him. “Have I missed super already?” He fished around for something just out of view of the flames’s light, nodding. “That you did.” He presented you with a metal cooking pot, still warm to the touch. “You appeared a bit delirious when I tried to wake you earlier. But I ensured some leftovers were stowed away, in case you did decide to partake.”

“Halsin.” you smiled, eagerly taking the pot from him. “Thank you very kindly.” “I only do as I wish would be done for me.” He nodded.

You opened to find a steaming pot of soup and gasped. “My favorite!”

“Is it now?” Halsin smiled, a knowing tone to his voice.

“Halsin, I could kiss you right now.”

“I’d not refuse that.” He replied coolly.

You kiss him rapidly against his cheek and he actually emits a bit of a hearty giggle, hugging you around the waist in surrender. 

“You spoil me, Y/N.”

“I'm ever so appreciative of you.” You smiled, and though your heart panicked, you allowed your body to take over, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his.

His hand softened against your back as you slowed your kiss, breaking away to offer a meek smile.

“My.” He whispered. “You're a fine kisser. I suppose I should feel special to be the recipient.”

Despite his smile, there was a disconcerting furrow to his brows, his hand stilling against your shoulder.

“Y/N.” He hesitated. “I'm afraid I must, as I'm not entirely sure what this means. If your goal is to thank me, I must insist I do not require such actions as appreciation.” His eyes tarried at your lips once more, time tracing your chin. “Though, in the essence of honesty, I must admit, I’ve always found you very captivating and magnetic. It's hard to resist the offer.” 

“Oh Halsin.” You chuckled, flustered by the flurry of compliments. “I am thankful for you. But more than that, I find you so handsome and considerate and charming. And, after the way you carried me during that diversion, dare I say I desire you carnally. Does that spell things out for you?”

He laughed loudly, boisterously as he smiled, quite bashfully. “Well I suppose that is clear as crystal, isn't it?”

“I enjoyed the sensation of your hands across my body. Could we repeat that again?”

“Certainly.” He blinked down at you, smoothing a thumb across your lips. ���Before so, I'd like to kiss you once more. Would that be alright?”

“Absolutely.”

You're laid atop the significantly larger man, rising and falling with his very chest as his one hand rests at your lower back. “That was...” He swallowed. “Exhilarating.” You interjected and he chuckled against you. “That was… quite unbecoming of me. I feel I must apologize for my—err—method of carrying you into the tent.”

Remembering back to it gave you butterflies in your stomach. The way in which he easily grasped you by the arm and lifted you over his shoulder. He smacked his large hand over your ass, cradling you in place, answering with a devilish, immodest laugh at the sound of you silencing your shriek with your hands.

“It was needlessly aggressive. And you could've been hurt.”

You giggled foolishly against his chest to which he smiled. “I take it that you enjoyed that. I presume?” You continued laughing as you nodded, sitting up away from him, drawing his attention. “Would you like to lay together until morning? Halsin?”

He looked comforted by your question. “I'm unsure how to answer you as we’re somewhere between evening and morn… But yes, I would.”

The following day, mid travels, you encounter yet another deep gulch. Yet again, Halsin insists on helping everyone over, except in your case he invites you to climb onto his back where after crossing he insists on carrying you that way.

You whisper to him, pleading. “Thank you for your help now please put me down!”

“I'm afraid I must deny the ladies request on just this one occasion, on account that I quite enjoy carrying you. Does that spell things out for you?”

You curl your arms around his neck, resting your cheek against his ear. “Verily.” You whispered.

I hope the story didn't sound too wonky or out of character! I truly know very little about this game or DND but Yeah … sorry… I'm not normal about this ugly fine white man. And I need him BAD.

[herlondonboy]

trust worthy, clarisse la rue

summary: you’ll make it up to her. part two of trust.

warnings: flashbacks in italics. um, mentions of nightmares? it can be read as a stand alone!

wc: 2.0k

read part one here: trust

depression wasn’t new to you. nor was loneliness. but even when you were depressed and lonely, you always had clarisse to go to. now you were lonely and depressed because clarisse had left you.

but you kept on trying to imagine what clarisse was going through. what she had gone through.

but you missed her so much. more than you had ever missed anyone.

-

clarisse was missing you. you’d been on the quest for nearly five days and you hadn’t called her since the first day.

clarisse woke up to the familiar sounds of camp half-blood—the distant clang of swords, the laughter of her fellow campers, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. but despite the comforting familiarity of her surroundings, there was a heaviness in her heart that seemed to weigh her down with each passing day.

it had been a few days since you, her partner in battle and in life, had been sent on a quest, and she was already a mess. at first, clarisse had tried to keep herself busy, throwing herself into her training with a fierce determination. but as the days turned into weeks, and your absence stretched on, clarisse found herself becoming increasingly irritable.

everything seemed to grate on her nerves—the way her fellow campers chattered incessantly during meals, the way they left their gear strewn about the training grounds, even the way the sun beat down relentlessly on her skin. every little annoyance felt like a personal affront, a reminder of the one person who wasn't there to share in her frustrations.

clarisse tried to hide her feelings behind a facade of toughness, but it was becoming harder and harder to keep up the act. she missed you more than words could express. they were more than just partners—they were kindred spirits, two halves of a whole, and without them by her side, clarisse felt incomplete.

the nights were the hardest. alone in her bunk, clarisse would lie awake for hours, unable to shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at her from within. she would toss and turn, her mind filled with thoughts of you—wondering where you were, if you were safe, if you were thinking of her too.

and then there were the nightmares. vivid, terrifying dreams that left clarisse drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. she would see your face, twisted in pain, hear their voice calling out to her for help that never came. it was enough to drive her mad with guilt and despair.

during the day, clarisse threw herself into her training with even greater fervor, hoping to drown out the pain with the clashing of swords and the adrenaline rush of battle. but no matter how hard she fought, no matter how many monsters she vanquished, the ache in her heart remained.

she tried to find solace in the company of her fellow campers, but even they seemed to grate on her nerves more than usual. their well-meaning attempts at conversation felt hollow and empty, their laughter a painful reminder of the joy she had lost.

and so clarisse withdrew into herself, retreating behind a wall of bitterness and anger. she snapped at anyone who dared to cross her path, her words sharp and cutting, driven by a pain she could scarcely bear to acknowledge.

but deep down, beneath the layers of bravado and bluster, clarisse was just a girl who missed the person she loved more than anything in the world. and until you returned to her side, she knew that nothing would ever be quite right again.

clarisse stood in the training arena, her muscles burning with exertion as she swung her sword in a relentless flurry of strikes. she was in her element here, the familiar weight of her weapon comforting in her hands as she honed her skills with single-minded determination.

but her focus was shattered when she noticed a group of familiar faces approaching. chris, luke, mr. d, and chiron made their way across the training grounds, their expressions grave. chris, in particular, caught clarisse’s attention; his normally jovial demeanor was replaced by a look of pain and discomfort that sent a pang of concern through her chest.

confusion furrowed clarisse’s brow as the group drew closer. what could possibly be wrong? she couldn’t recall any recent battles or incidents that would warrant such a serious expression on chris’s face. and why were mr. d and chiron here? had something happened at camp that she wasn’t aware of?

her questions were left unanswered as chiron spoke, his voice carrying a weight that made clarisse’s stomach churn with unease. “clarisse,” he said, his tone gentle but firm, “i need to speak with you in private. please, follow me to my office.”

clarisse’s eyes darted to luke, searching for some hint or explanation in his expression, but he avoided her gaze, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. something cold twisted in her chest as she followed behind chiron, her mind racing with possibilities, none of them pleasant.

they reached his office in silence, and chiron closed the door behind them with a soft click. clarisse turned to face him, her heart pounding in her chest as she braced herself for whatever news he had to deliver.

clarisse sat in chiron's office, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited whatever news he had to deliver. she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her since he had asked her to meet him here, and the tension in the air only served to heighten her anxiety.

before chiron could speak, however, the door swung open, and mr. d barged in with his usual air of haughty indifference. clarisse's stomach dropped as she braced herself for whatever scathing remarks he had in store.

“why did you steal the lightning bolt?”

clarisse's eyes widened in shock. the missing lightning bolt? they thought she’d stolen it?

before she could defend herself, chiron spoke up, his tone gentle but firm. "clarisse, we have reason to believe that you may have been involved in the theft of the lightning bolt."

clarisse's jaw dropped in disbelief. "me?" she exclaimed, her voice rising with indignation. "who told you that?"

chiron hesitated for a moment before answering. "percy," he said quietly.

clarisse scoffed, her disbelief turning to anger. "percy?!" she spat, her fists clenched at her sides. "of course. you're going to trust one person’s word? seriously?"

chiron shook his head. "it's not just percy," he said. "it's everyone else on the quest. they all believe that you had something to do with it."

clarisse's heart sank as she realised the implications of chiron's words. you were on that quest, and if you thought she was guilty, then surely everyone else did too.

suddenly, the anger that had been simmering beneath the surface boiled over, and clarisse exploded. "this is ridiculous!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls of the office. "i didn't steal anything!"

but her protests fell on deaf ears as chris and luke burst into the room, their faces set in grim determination. despite being the daughter of the god of war, clarisse found herself overpowered as they restrained her, their strength surprising even her.

chiron sighed heavily as he watched the scene unfold. "clarisse," he said, his voice weary with disappointment, "you'll be under surveillance until we gather enough evidence to prove your innocence."

defeated and humiliated, clarisse could only watch helplessly as chiron and mr. d exchanged somber looks, the weight of their accusations hanging heavy in the air. she had never felt more alone than she did in that moment, betrayed by those she thought were her friends and branded a thief by those she trusted most.

-

you lie awake in the darkness of your room, the weight of loneliness pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ever since clarisse broke up with you earlier, citing a lack of trust, sleep has been elusive. the absence of her presence beside you in bed is a constant reminder of the void she left behind.

suddenly, you hear a faint creaking noise, and your hand instinctively reaches for the dagger you keep tucked beneath your pillow. but as you sit up, ready to defend yourself, you see percy sitting up in his own bed, his eyes searching the darkness.

"can't sleep?" he asks softly, his voice breaking the silence of the night.

you shake your head, unable to find the words to express the depth of your turmoil.

percy sighs, a heavy weight of regret hanging in the air. "i'm sorry," he says, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "i should've known it wasn't clarisse. i shouldn't have stopped you from running to her."

you nod in understanding, grateful for percy's apology even as the ache in your heart refuses to fade.

"are you going home tomorrow?" you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

percy nods eagerly, a flicker of excitement lighting up his features. "yeah, i am. wanna come? my mom would love to meet you."

for a moment, the darkness seems a little less oppressive, and a glimmer of hope stirs within you. maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance for you to find solace and belonging somewhere other than beside clarisse. and as the scene fades to black, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there's still a light waiting for you at the end of this long, lonely night.

as the summer sun began to rise over camp half-blood, the air was filled with a bittersweet energy. some campers were packing up, preparing to leave for their homes or new adventures, while others were settling in for another season at camp. among them, you found yourself caught in the whirlwind of emotions, unsure of where you belonged.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sight of clarisse, towering over a hephaestus kid, her demeanor as fierce as ever as she demanded that he fix her spear. you hesitated for a moment, but something compelled you to step forward, to try and reach out to her despite everything that had happened between you.

but as you approached, clarisse's gaze fell upon you, and before you could even utter a word, she pushed you roughly to the ground. anger boiled within you, your temper flaring hotter than the forge fires of hephaestus. the ground trembled beneath your feet, a warning of the storm raging within.

clarisse raised an eyebrow, daring you to challenge her further. but instead of lashing out, you took a deep breath and asked again, more calmly this time, if you could talk.

clarisse scoffed and turned to walk away, but you followed, determined to make her listen.

you found a secluded spot away from prying eyes, and as you began to speak, you saw the skepticism in clarisse's eyes give way to curiosity.

"i know you don't trust me right now, but please, just hear me out," you pleaded, your voice tinged with desperation. "i need you to understand what happened."

clarisse hesitated for a moment before nodding reluctantly, a flicker of interest in her eyes.

you told her everything—from meeting ares to being locked in the lorry, to the moment you realised that percy and grover thought she was the lightning thief.

clarisse listened in stunned silence, her features softening with each word you spoke. and when you finished, her disbelief was palpable.

"my father hates me?" she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "after everything i've done for him, he..."

you didn't let her finish. instead, you threw your arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"for what it's worth, i believe you," clarisse said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "and i'm sorry for pushing you away."

as you held each other, you knew that things wouldn't magically be perfect between you, but maybe, just maybe, there was hope for reconciliation.

and as the summer sun cast its warm glow over camp half-blood, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could find your place here after all.

[adventure-time-news]

Now that we've had some time to process today's announcements, here's a slightly more in-depth breakdown of the three new Adventure Time projects.

HEYO BMO

Heyo BMO will be a preschool show starring BMO. The Animation on Max Twitter account says that it "follows little BMO as he approaches each challenge he faces with his unique brand of enthusiasm and a curiosity to learn and fill his database."

This is the only project of the three for which we have received some promo art so far, which might mean it's the furthest along in development and the most likely to premier first, especially if they used rigged rather than traditional animation as is often the case with preschool shows. This promo art was created by 3D artist Crisppyboat, who has previously worked on a handful of web projects and indie games. I don't think this is the style that the entire show will have, but who knows.

Other people confirmed by Variety to be working on Heyo BMO are Adam Muto, who has been showrunner on everything Adventure Time since season five of the original show, and Ashlyn Anstee, who storyboarded on Obsidian and has written many children's books.

This show is especially interesting given that Adam Muto has often joked about the inevitability of a preschool spinoff of Adventure Time, and now that has finally come to pass while he is presumably still running the show.

SIDE QUESTS

Side Quests will be a "prequel series" to the original Adventure Time, likely meant as a return to the early seasons' storytelling style. It will be mostly episodic rather than serialised, meaning episodes will each tell their own story without much of an overarching plot, and it will target the original show's young demographic. Ice King is confirmed to be returning in this series, but that's about all we know about the plot.

Interestingly, Variety did not attach Adam Muto's name to this project. Instead it mentioned that Nate Cash will be involved. Nate Cash was supervising director on Adventure Time between seasons three and five, often alternating with Adam Muto in that role. So if Nate is producing Side Quests and Adam is producing Heyo BMO, this will be something of a return to form for both of them.

One question that I've seen a few fans ask is who will voice Finn in this show. Jeremy Shada can't really pull off the season one Finn voice anymore, and they've run out of younger Shada brothers to defer to like they did after the pilot episode. So a new casting feels likely to me, with Shada continuing to voice an older Finn in other projects like Fionna and Cake and the movie. Speaking of which...

UNTITLED ADVENTURE TIME MOVIE

This is the announcement that we know the least about. To give some historical context, an Adventure Time movie was announced all the way back in 2015 but never came to anything. There was also allegedly a plan to end season five with a TV movie back in 2014. Elements of these two movies were later recycled into the plots of several later episodes, most notably Something Big, and possibly Distant Lands: Together Again.

This latest attempt involves Adam Muto, as well as Rebecca Sugar and Pat McHale, who were both influential storyboard artists in the early seasons of Adventure Time before leaving to make their own shows; Steven Universe and Over the Garden Wall, respectively.

According to MidouMir on Twitter, who was live-Tweeting the Warner panel at Annecy, a brief synopsis was given as something like "Finn and Jake set out to find a birthday gift for PB but their adventure will lead them to world changing stuff." Other than that we know nothing about the plot.

OTHER ANNOUNCEMENTS

Adventure Time wasn't the only show to get spinoffs announced today. Regular Show, Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends, and Scooby-Doo will all be receiving new series too. We don't know anything about the Regular Show spinoff, but the Fosters spinoff will be a preschool show like Heyo BMO.

All of this appears to indicate that Warner's current animation strategy is to recycle characters who have already proven popular in order to try and attract a new generation of viewers. Original fans of Adventure Time are beginning to get old enough to have children of their own who might enjoy something like Heyo BMO, plus since the end of shows like Amphibia and The Owl House there has been a vacuum of popular "fandom" shows for the older children to younger teens demographic, which I imagine is what Side Quests is aiming for.

To be fair they have also announced a handful of brand new projects; Lovey Dovey, Bad Karma, and Barbara are all new shows announced today.

What are your thoughts? Is there anything I missed? Be sure to let me know!

[brittle-doughie]

Can we get a evil Y/N cookie attempting to corrupt White Lily? I have a starter story if that's alright.

The silver domain was filled with merriment and the sugary smell of sweets. In honor of White Lily Cookie taking up the role that Elder Fairy cookie had left behind, The fairy cookies insisted on celebrating. White Lily Cookie was against the idea first Y/N cookie promise to be by her side during the event...And yet, they seem to be absent. Not wanting to disturb the fairies party, White Lily Cookie excused herself to try and locate her closest confidant, clenching her staff tightly as her anxieties let her small quest.

Finding herself wandering the silver the Faerie Library, White Lily Cookie sees a familiar silhouette sitting in a nearby chair and begins to beam almost immediately. She calls out your name while running over to you, but her steps quickly slow as she feels something twisted in the air.

You speaking before White Lily Cookie has the opportunity to ask what's wrong, sympathetic eyes focusing on you as you speak.

Y/N Cookie: “Do you believe freedom is a good thing, White Lily Cookie?” You say in a ominous tone, one that White Lily Cookie rarely ever hears from you, continuing to stare out of a nearby window.

White Lily Cookie: “Huh? of course, Y/N Cookie! Freedom is what allows cookies to be who they are! It allows them to love and create, as well as discover brand new things.” White Lily Cookie's answer was somewhat hesitant, but still filled with as much conviction as it had been the first day she had received her soul jam.

Y/N Cookie “is that truly what you believe? The ultimate conclusion you've come to despite everything you've done?” A slither of malice lingered on those words

White Lily was taking aback at this strange hostility, But before she could begin to question it you continue.

Y/N Cookie: “The haunted blueberry academy, The deal with the legendary red dragon and...Dark enchantress herself. The more and more stories I hear, the more I question if freedom is really a virtue...and not a curse”

White lily Cookie: “Y/N Cookie...I had no idea you felt such a way. You had always been so supportive...I never thought you had such thoughts" her words had begin to shake, So she took in a breath before continuing. "I've done...Many unforgivable things, But the light of freedom allows me to try and repent for my mista-”

Y/N Cookie: “Enough already! All you ancients "heroes" ever do is rely on your virtues, But where is that led you!? All you've done with your "freedom" is destroying!.....How can I trust you, let alone be at your side when everything around you crumbles away?”

Each word was like a sharp knight penetrating White Lily Cookie's heart. She had these thoughts hundreds of times, But have a cookie so close to you say it with such...Hatred. whatever words white Lily may have wanted to use to defend herself, dissolved away in a soggy clump of despair...Could this be his doing?

You finally get up from your seat, the sudden action causing White lily to flinch. You begin to approach the anxious ancient, causing her to step back a few steps as you close the gap and only leave a few feet between the two of you. The damage that your words had done were visible on her face, trying her best not to cry at such heinous words from the cookie she had gotten so close to...You find it strange that you can feel sympathy for a cookie with such godly might, This is the only way to make it to your solution.

Y/N Cookie: “The light of freedom has proven itself to be far too dangerous...I might have a solution” her face of mystery turns to Confucian and you take this as your cue to continue. “Freedom allows cookies like dark enchantress and the beasts to do horrific deeds, for cake monsters to consume other cookies...And for evil to run wild.....But what if...We use the power of your soul jam to establish order?”

White Lily's eyes widen with terror...How could the cookie closest to White Lily suggest such a horrid thing? Taking freedom away from anyone, regardless of how evil they were was...monstrous. This simply had to be the work of Shadow Milk Cookie! M-Maybe she didn't seal the tree as well as she thought she did.

But White Lily will come to a very conflicting realization that, no, Shadow Milk Cookie had no involvement with her cherished friend and their way of thinking, you had simply seen way too many bad things happening to cookies around you in this bid to obtain the power of Soul Jam.

Hollyberry and Dark Cacao Cookie were right, y’know? Wars have started because of Soul Jam and far too many tragedies have occurred to get these “little stones”.

You know White Lily Cookie, you know that she ultimately wants the cookies of the land to be safe and without worry. So can she not see that this plan to bring order with the power of her Soul Jam could ultimately be beneficial in the long term.

White Lily Cookie is free to not consider you her friend anymore or even tell the others about what you’ve said. You stand firm in your beliefs, and nothing was going to change that.

Much to White Lily Cookie’s sorrow. She would hate to have to leave behind a friend she’s known for a long time…

She wishes there was another way. Another way that didn’t involve controlling others, yet also a way to still have you as her friend…

She doesn’t know what to do…