#demigod!reader

[heartsongss]

prologue.

platonic yandere batfam. pjo crossover. tbr love interest.

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d take being ignored over being smothered.

[prongspoet]

broken hearted | luke castellan.

first time writing for luke, so hope this is okay! tell me what u think in the reblogs i would love to know and get more luke asks!

summary: the curse of cabin 10 makes aphrodite!reader pretend to date her best friend so she doesn't have to cause a heartbreak to her actual crush. even though, at the end of it, she's the only one who had her heart broken. major inspo from this concept.

"You're staring." y/n' best friend, luke castellan, head counselor of the hermes cabin, pointed the fact out, side eying the girl right at his side, after looking at the boy sword training in front of them.

"he's staring back." the aphrodite girl said with a grin. the sunlight bathing her head making it comfortingly warm. luke would know, since he was the one caressing it while she laid down next to him. both of them on the grass, enjoying the late afternoon at camp. "so..."

michael dawson, ares' kid, was, in fact, staring. luke couldn't blame him, the way his best friend looked made everyone pay attention to her. she didn't even had to try. and still, the swordfighting happening in front of them made luke even more sure that mike needed a way so she could notice him. not naturally, but somehow, it worked, since the girl payed attention to him as soon as he started.

"oh well, like mother like daughter, huh. " he continued, in a mocking tone, holding his laugh, raising himself by his elbows, before taking one of his hands to the girl's arm. "your siblings wouldn't be too happy to see the goody two shoes dating an ares' kid, would they?"

"gods, don't fucking say that." she giggled, hiding her face with both of her hands. she went quiet for a second, still staring at the boy. "ares' kid or not.." y/n sighed, pouting slightly. "mike's nicer than the others, he wouldn't deserve to be a guinea pig."

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i have to do.” the girl muttered, with a soft sigh. she couldn't blame her mother, she worshipped aphrodite; her beauty, her power, her knowledge and her actions. that didn't mean that she enjoyed the judgment. the need to make someone else feel miserable just because she could. it wasn't fair. "the first love heart break thing."

"i'm glad i'm not in his shoes, that's for sure." the boy whispered, with a chuckle, still trying to be as quiet as possible. his thumb caressing her arm incessantly. it made her skin burn. in a second, y/n abruptly raised her chin, getting supported by her elbows, getting muffled groan from luke, once it hit his ribs. "what is it?"

"you could be!"

"am i your first love, daisy?" he raised one of his eyebrows, with a mischievous grin stamped on the boys face. the scar in his eye making itself more clear. "you should have told me sooner- ouch!"

"shut up, hero. listen to me!" he knew that tone. and as anyone else who had a single bit of sense, he kept quiet, wanting nothing more to hear her insane idea. "we could pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend." the smile on her delicate face kept getting bigger as she explained her brilliant - yet not completely effective - idea. "i could pretend to break your heart. no one gets hurt, i can stay with mike after is over, and my mom ends up being proud of me!"

the aphrodite girl stared at him expectedly, hoping he would buy her insane plan, hoping he could save her from doing something he never imagined her doing it. luke got quiet for a minute. his eyes were darker than usual. he couldn't stand that. y/n knew her best friend well enough to know that he meant to say something. he never truly did. "you shouldn't be looking for her approval."

"i'm not searching for approval i'm just trying to prove myself.."

"you don't have to prove your devotion to her by doing this." his tone stern, more quiet. colder. "you burn offerings for her every single day. you pray, you're always expressing how incredible she is."

"you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

and suddenly, the idea seemed more appealing than ever. she wasn't using her charmspeak on him. no, luke knew how sugary and sweet y/n's words could be when she wanted to. at that moment, his best friend was just being honest. and even though he could retribute that feeling, luke felt that he needed to do it. just for her.

"yeah," he nodded. defeated. "fine, i'll do it."

"really?" the girl hugged him tight. more excited than ever. "thank you boyfriend!"

"yeah, yeah." he grinned, letting her rest her head on his chest, carefully watching y/n closing her eyes, like nothing else would ever bother her. "just don't be too mean when you dump me."

pretending was easy.

they've always been stuck to each other. having dinner with each other. burning offerings with each other. planning capture the flag with each other. training, swimming, talking, sneaking out to parties. always with one right after the other.

it wasn't supposed to be different, they just had to make it more believable.

"we should be holding hands," y/n pointed out as the couple walked calmly to the main area, where dinner was starting. "silena asked me why we never hold hands if we're dating, so i thought we could make it more..."

"real, yeah." luke nodded, grabbing her hand right the next second she spoke. "c'mon, girlfriend, hurry up." he grinned, and she couldn't help but grin back. "i'm starving."

luke could do that. he could kiss her in front of people, and tell everyone the way they got together. he could hold hands with her, caress her back and almost have a heart attack when she kissed him behind his ear. he could live with that, yeah. it was normal. it was pretending.

until it started to change. suddenly. quickly.

he noticed her. the eyes, the shape of her face, the way her eyebrows moved when she laughed, and the look she gave him every single time she entered a room he was already in, and luke couldn't help but pay attention at her soft hair, how excited she became while looking at pretty flowers, and especially, how her fingers felt against his own scalp when they needed to do some pretending. she was an aphrodite kid after all. y/n was charming. y/n was lovely. y/n was his girlfriend, at least for a while.

and she couldn't help but notice him either. how his scar looked more bright when they. the subtle, yet attentive and gentle way he taught her how to hold a sword, how to train, how to fight. the infuriating way at how he held her chin up slightly, every single time, before sealing his lips against hers.

and for once, neither of them were pretending.

the bonfire started earlier that night, but the couple came to it late; y/n helped one of her sisters who was in a small crises, and her sweet caring boyfriend waited for her by the aphrodite cabin's door, holding her hand as soon as she got out, so they could sit together at one of the logs, full of campers, chartering, telling stories, and enjoying the peacefulness that the simple event emanate.

luke choose one of the back logs for a reason, it was darker, harder to anyone else to see them. even so, as soon as the boy started to leave little pecks at her jaw, he was able to hear some whistles and exclamations. teenagers were gonna be teenagers after all.

"alright," y/n sat upstraight, taking a deep breath before continuing. "you can't do that here."

"i'm just having fun!" the boy said with a mischievous grin. he knew way to well what he was doing. she hoped he would do it forever. the teasing, the almost getting caught made her heart sink every time. "you are my girlfriend after all."

"don't get ahead of yourself, hero." she muttered, grinning at him, before sealing lips with him again. "i still have to break your heart."

"are you sure about that?" he furrowed his eyebrows, pretending to be offended, but getting right back at his job pretty quickly. "i'll just enjoy it until the time comes then."

she laughed, taking her head back so he could have full access to her neck, delicately taking one of her hands to his scalp. and he noticed how much he loved that sound. so much in a way he wished he could bottle it up so he could taste it every time he felt miserable. that wasn't possible. but y/n promised that as long as they were together, he was allowed to make her laugh any time he wanted to, if if meant getting him happy.

that's why it hurt even more when he did what he did.

when he revealed himself to be the traitor.

"come with me."

"i'm sorry, what the hell are you doing?" she cried out, feeling her heart beating faster than ever. "you're not thinking straight. you're not. you're not like this, i-" the words got caught up in her throat. y/n felt like she could pass out at any minute. "i know you luke." her voice was a mere pleading by then, hoping with all her soul he would hear. "you wouldn't do this to me."

"you mean a lot to me, daisy, but this is fucking different."

he was different, and she finally noticed. his eyes darker, his tone stern, and the way he held himself up, like he was prepared for a fight.

y/n would never fight him.

and he would never fight her, right?

and when luke turned his back against her, letting the aphrodite girl caught up with a sob, furrowing her eyebrows, feeling the tears already soaking up her eyes, y/n thought she understood.

maybe aphrodite didn't buy it. and even if she did, she knew it started out with a lie. y/n was playing house. thinking she could be smarter than her mom, she could prove it to everyone else how that curse was a lie, and that nothing would happen to the one that didn't completed it.

but it did happend.

no demigod could ever stand out a god. y/n was no exception.

and she finally understood that.

by the end of the day, y/n went back to her well known cabin, shamefully, missing her radiant aura and pretty smile, hiding a shattered heart in her pocket.

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

child of apollo!reader x unclaimed demigod!logan?

-bear

bear i love you.

when logan gets to camp, you're one of the first people like him that he meets. his first impression of you is ... well, that you're sunshine personified. he'd never met someone so happy and warm. he's not really surprised to find out that you've been claimed as a child of apollo.

he's a little jealous. and he hates it.

logan doesn't want to be a child of apollo, especially not after he met you, but it just nags in the back of his mind. why hadn't he been claimed? why wasn't he good enough? why wouldn't his parent claim him?

you're the first to reassure that there's nothing wrong with him. you explain that, sometimes, the gods have a specific plan for claiming their children. sometimes, they're just assholes. but you won't let him feel like he's not enough. you fight chiron to let logan sit with you at the apollo table. you haven't pushed your luck enough to ask him and dionysus to let logan sleep in the apollo cabin with you, but that doesn't mean you don't sneak him in every night anyway.

logan would be very curious about whatever abilities you got from your father. whether it be archery or music or healing, he'd spend every hour by your side and watching you work. his attempts at archery had been disastrous, and the most he was allowed to do in the infirmary was hand you things (in the early days, he almost accidentally gave a camper twice as much ambrosia and nectar as they were supposed to have, and he had been lucky you were there to intervene).

through all the chaos of camp half-blood, all the gods' bullshit and all the campers' issues, you're his sunshine. the beams of sunlight that peak through the clouds during even the harshest of storms. there are days he still doesn't feel like enough because he's unclaimed. but then ... then he'll look at you, and he'll think that maybe it doesn't matter if he never gets claimed. as long as he has you, he's happy.

[overflowingteacupoflove]

Matt- Son of Athena, goddess of wisdom.

Annotations, owls, sword fighting, blue prints, perfectionist, hates the smell of cars, he's not used to being wrong, hates loud noises, pianist.

"Stop touching my stuff- please."

Tiger- daughter of Dionysis, god of wine.

lip stains, red grapes, fur coats, cheetah print EVERYTHING, star confetti, strobe lights, messy make out sessions, very sensitive and empathetic, dancing in puddles, her and chris are like bestfriends, tight burgundy dresses, thigh high boots, biting matt's nose CONSTANTLY.

"Sorry!"

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

a pr3ttyf4wn record!

[ficmesideways]

Request for Anonymous

Gif Source: Wednesday / Sweeney

Imagine being Mr. Wednesday’s demigod daughter and him finding out you’re dating Sweeney

------- Imagine -------

“Your doing what? With who?!” You father all but yelled. Scrath that, he did yell. The walls shaking in response to his surprise and anger. You flinched but did not back down as you watched him fume. “If you let that insignificant little thing who likes to think he is still a god wed you or heavens forbid, knock you up, I’ll”

“What?” You said, your own anger sparking now. “You will do what exactly? Because as I recall you were never around until Shadow showed up and all of a sudden you wanna be a family man. Well fuck that, I will let Sweeny fuck me, wed me, breed me, whatever the hells I want because it is my life, and my relationship you got that!” Your own voice reverberated just as loud as his, but no walls shook in response. Only a nothingness quiet followed as your father looked at you.

“I’ll tell you this only once.” He said looking at you, is voice calm and low as if the screaming match had never happened. “Take all the time you need, but when you come back, when he breaks your heart, dies, or leaves you in a bloody pile; you come back to me for good.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine but you ignored it and turned your back to him to head back to the booth where Sweeney waited. The reassuring smile he sent your way had you feeling lighter already. You took his had when you were close enough and bid him to follow you out.

[alannybunnue]

I headcanon that it’s impossible for a mortal to impregnant demigoddess reader.

Actually, yeah

I said this before, but the Drowned God kinda locked his daughter's ability to reproduce until she found or he gave a proper suitor

Which is Rhyeyr

So, the only way for her to have kids (Before Rhyeyr) was true magic or something like it.

[ninisdollie]

forbidden fruit - yang jungwon 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ . Demigods series

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

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

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

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

Sharp-minded. Disciplined. Untouchable.

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

You were born into legacy.

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

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

You were your mother’s pride.

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

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

Not until Jungwon.

He wasn’t part of the plan.

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

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

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

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

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

You were ice. He was waves.

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

You didn’t like him.

You couldn’t like him.

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

It stopped being dangerous.

It started being home.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

Yang Jungwon wasn’t what anyone expected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His sheepish grin had been all charm.

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

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

Not because of his powers or his lineage.

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

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

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

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

And then he showed up.

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

You sighed before even speaking.

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

His grin was unrepentant.

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

You narrowed your eyes at him, annoyance bubbling up.

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

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

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

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

“Stay back. I’ll handle this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence followed.

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

You whirled around, cutting him off with a glare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes softened just slightly.

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

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

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

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

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

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

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

You were precise. He was impulsive.

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

And yet… it worked.

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

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

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

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

He never judged you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

From that point on, things changed.

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

You both understood what was at stake.

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

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

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

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

He felt the same.

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

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

And no one could know.

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

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

Because you weren’t just that anymore.

You were his.

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

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

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

It was always the lake.

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

But tonight, you weren’t just feeling.

You were unraveling.

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

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

You’d lived by those words for years.

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

“You okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe it is.”

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

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

You finally looked at him.

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

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

Jungwon blinked slowly.

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

You swallowed, throat tight.

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

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

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

You closed your eyes.

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

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

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

Your heart stuttered in your chest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You let out a soft, shaking breath.

“I don’t want a war,” you murmured.

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

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

Maybe it had to be.

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

It began with waves.

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

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

You turned, searching for something, anything familiar.

And then you saw him.

Jungwon.

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

“Jungwon?”

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

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

“Jungwon, please—”

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

“So this is what you’ve become.”

Your blood froze.

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

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

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

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

You shook your head, breath ragged.

“He’s not weak—he’s good, he’s kind—”

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

She stopped before you, her expression carved in stone.

“You are no daughter of mine.”

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

“Y/N—!”

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

“Jungwon!”

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

And Athena?

She was gone.

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

You jolted awake.

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

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

But the worst part wasn’t the fear.

It was the guilt.

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

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

You were Athena’s pride.

Until you weren’t.

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

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

You’d been quiet for days.

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

And it was killing you.

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

You’d never known fear like that.

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

So you started pulling back. Quietly, strategically.

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

He noticed, of course he did.

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

You didn’t turn around.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

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

You kept your eyes on the blade.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Y/N.”

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

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

“Did I do something wrong?”

The question landed like a knife.

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

But you couldn’t say that.

So instead you lied.

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

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

“So… you’re cutting me off.”

“It’s not like that—”

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

Your throat tightened.

“You know I do.”

“Do I?” he whispered.

You looked away, jaw clenched.

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

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

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

“So love is selfish now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But who’s protecting me from you?”

The words knocked the breath from your lungs.

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

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

Your lips parted, but no sound came out.

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

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

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

But it was too late.

He had already taken a step back.

“Then why do I feel like one?”

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

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

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

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

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

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

“I’m not ashamed of you.”

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

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

“I can’t be weak, Jungwon.”

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

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

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

He hated this.

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

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

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

He let it fall.

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

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

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

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

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

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

“Nice form today, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

You straightened your spine, jaw tightening.

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

He tilted his head, smirking.

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

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

You said nothing, but your silence said too much.

Nicholas caught it, like a vulture spotting blood.

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

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

His grin widened.

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

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

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

And then, without thinking, you ran.

You didn’t stop until you reached your cabin.

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

Everything was crashing down.

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

You couldn’t breathe.

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

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

But it wasn’t just about him.

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

You were Athena’s pride.

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

And now?

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

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

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

What if someone told Chiron?

What if the gods already knew?

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

What if this love ruined everything?

And yet… you couldn’t let go of him.

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

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

The cabin was silent except for your broken sobs.

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

͏ ͏ུུ̑̑ 🌊𓇼

You didn’t knock.

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

His eyes widened the second he saw your face.

“Y/N—?”

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

Jungwon’s heart leapt.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

You started pacing.

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

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

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

He froze.

“You’re sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

That landed somewhere deep in him.

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

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

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

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

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

Silence followed, taut and raw.

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

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

You blinked, breath catching in your throat.

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

Tears slipped down your cheeks then, warm and silent.

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

His breath hitched.

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

You didn’t think, couldn’t.

You just reached for him.

The kiss that followed wasn’t soft.

It was desperate.

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

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

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

You pressed your forehead against his, eyes shut tight.

“I can’t lose you,” you whispered.

“You won’t.”

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

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

“I want to stay,” you whispered.

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

“Then stay.”

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

You were just his.

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

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

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

“Jungwon…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes welled.

“Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So perfect, so mine. Always"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were already close. Too close.

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

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

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

You nodded desperately, unable to form words.

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” he whispered.

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got you.”

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

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

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

Your throat tightened.

“Because it is.”

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

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

His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“Then don’t"

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallowed.

“Jungwon?” you whispered, not looking up.

“Hm?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

He waited, gaze fixed on you.

You inhaled slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked, stunned.

“Run?”

He nodded, eyes wild and full of wonder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then let’s run.”

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

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

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

[heartsongss]

four. apples rotten right to the core

masterlist.

a/n: help i made toxic clarissexreader shes like a frat bro ex

You take a bite of an apple, the juice running down your chin as you mindlessly watch some sitcom or another. Your free hand wipes at it, your brows furrowing as it sticks to your hands.There’s a few more minutes before the league arrives, and you’re wasting your time eating, or polishing your weapons. Out of the corner of your eyes, you feel Clarisse’s eyes on you.

She’s watching you carefully, eyes drawn nearly closed as she gazes at you. It brings back memories, of slow nights spent with her, where her hands would smooth over your scarred skin and pry uselessly at your locked-up heart and plead with desperate wanting, a promise that this time, she’d be better.

(“(Y/N), please, I’ll listen. You don’t have to leave, I’ll take care of it. Please,” She begs, her hands on your waist and her face on your stomach.)

You take another bite of the apple. You ignore her hungry eyes, sat primly next to Jamie. It got worse after you removed your earrings, letting your mottled cheek face the world. Your friend leans on your shoulder, eyes lidded as he stares blankly at the screen with a confused look on his face. He’s frowning when he says, “The timeline makes no sense.”

“Yeah?” You ask, eyes flicking to his frame.

He nods, sitting up, “Bro, it’s-”

A knock at the door. Your head whips over, clutching the apple tight. They’re here. Clarisse goes to the door, a leader in her heart. She opens the door, staring out of them. She holds that position for a long, awkward moment. A power play, probably. She’s always been a fan of keeping people on their toes, reminding them that she’s better.

She steps aside, letting the League, or what of the league’s been appointed to help. They file in, left to stand and stare at the demigods scattered, sitting on couches and chairs. Their eyes are drawn naturally to you, scanning your frame. Dick, Jason, and Bruce are all among the gathered heroes and the most awkward. Dick - Nightwing - is shifting skittishly, his hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. Red Hood just stares, hand close to his gun and his body pointed ever so slightly to the exit. Batman just stands there, perfectly still. The cape cloaks any movement he could be making right now, leaving you to just stare.

Your father flinches back near imperceptively, eyes widening as he sees you. You meet his gaze, staring up at him through your eyelashes.

Look at me, you think. Look at me and see what you made, what I’ve become.

He looks at you, until a body steps in front and keeps you from his eyes. Clarisse. She stares out at them, a hand on her spear, Maimer, as she frowns, “In half an hour, we’re heading out to put seals up. I’ll have (Y/N)’s group on the borders. You’ll be traveling down the edge of Gotham. There are six sealing zones, each one randomized when you arrive at the prior zone. Understand?”

You nod, Will and Jamie doing the same. The heroes assigned to you, Nightwing, Superman, and Impulse, nod as well. She runs down the list of assignments, herself being sent to the heart of Gotham. They’ll activate a spell that replicates the soul and signals of an injured powerful demigod. It’ll lure the stronger - and thankfully dumber ones - out from the shadows. The ones that remain are left to the Sealers and Travis’ group, who are to travel throughout Gotham on patrol.

“At the end of her spiel, she turns to you. A tender look overtakes her eyes, a quiet devotion before she turns back to the league. With a sigh, she says, “Let’s get a move on. The hope is that we’ll be through at about five. If you start on the outside, you’ll work your way in. We know we won’t get all of them, but we at least need to get most of them.”

She turns to the demigods, making eye contact with each of them, “Do you understand?”

Travis laughs, a softly bitter thing, “Yes ma’am.”

“Watch it, Stoll,” Clarisse frowns at him.

He raises his hands in surrender, standing up, “What, only want that from (L/N)-” 

Her hand shoots out, clutching at his shirt collar. Jamie laughs, shocked, his eyes wide as he glances from the daughter of Ares to the son of Hermes. You frown, a scowl on your face as you watch their stand off. You don’t notice the way Bruce’s eyes narrow, trained on Clarisse as if studying her weaknesses, trying to learn her inadequacies. Or the way Dick stills, a body of shifting limbs and straining muscles suddenly slowly to a stop. Or the way Jason shifts, his body leaning forward and his legs shifted wider as if to attack.

You’ve never needed to notice it before, because you always knew it wouldn’t be there. You didn’t have any need to expect it now. You could survive without their protection. You can survive without their attention.

You throw your half-eaten apple at Travis and Clarisse, Jamie booing them, saying, “Uninspired! Basic! Giving Twilight ass love triangle!”

You turn to him, eyes wide, “That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said about me.”

“It’s true!” He insists, sitting up to stare at you, “You’re Bella, Clarisse is Edward - not good for you but tragically the hotter of the two-”

“Hey!”

“Shut up, Travis! And Travis is the poor second choice!”

“Travis is dating Katie.”

“Oh. Forgot about that, lowkey.”

You sigh, standing up and grabbing your now-dirty apple from the ground and tossing it in the trash. You turn to Clarisse and Travis, raising your wrist and pressing the bracelet, blankly watching as it turns into a sword.

You point it at them, saying, “We have better things to do than your stupid ass posturing. Besides, I’m not taking you back.”

Dick squawks, “Take her back? (Y/N), you’re too young to be dating!”

He grabs your shoulder, spinning you around to face him as he grips your shoulders desperately, “You can’t be dating! (Y/N)-”

You stare at him, a mild look of disgust on your face as you gently remove his hands from your shoulder, “Let’s… not.”

He stays still, watching as you turn around and face your friends, “Let’s just get started. I don’t want to spend hours doing this, I have a life.”

Clarisse sighs. She looks at you, a frown on her face. She steps closer to you, so close you have to crane your neck to see her face. She’s always been taller than you, with broad shoulders and lean muscles. She smiles mockingly at you, leaning down until you’re almost nose to nose.

“You’re not in charge, (Y/N). We’re waiting for Chiron’s word.”

You smile back at her, a scornful look in your eyes. For just a moment, pink flits across your eyes, (e/c) shifting, “If I say we go, then you’ll find yourself listening.”

She glares, opening her mouth to say something she’ll surely regret, that will lead to her drunkenly IMing you sobbing when Will stands up and gets between you.

“Chiron messaged! We’re going, we need to go and you two need to get away from eachother! This is their first impression of us!” He says quickly, latching onto your wrist with one hand, and his free one gesturing to the league.

You sigh, “Sorry about that.”

Diana interjects before anyone else can, “It’s alright, (Y/N). Lets go.”

You make eye contact with your father, awkwardly holding it as he stares at you blankly. |Everyone begins to file out, and just before you follow him, he clasps your shoulder. He says, “(Y/N). I’m sure your… situation has left you far more independent than you need to be, you’re still far too young to date.”

You look at him with wide eyes, mouth open incredulously. He must see the look on your face, and recognize it, as he clears his throat and says, “Nonetheless, I am… proud of you.”

He turns and leaves, leaving you to just stand there. How dare he? Nine damn years of relying on yourself, and now he dares to come in and say ‘how dare you date’? What the fuck! You scowl, scoffing as you turn and follow him down out of the apartment.

Piece of shit.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Superman’s driving the truck. Will’s next to him, fiddling with the GPS, as you, Jamie, Impulse, and Nightwing are piled in the trunk bed. You’re sat across from Jamie, Nighting close enough to brush shoulders as he tries to lure you into conversation with meaningless jokes and small, vague memories of your past. You know just as well as he does that these memories were the only ones you share.

“...You were so small!” He says, nudges you with a small smile.

You smile awkwardly at him, fiddling with your bracelet. His eyes keep being drawn to your scar, which he stares at for a few seconds before remembering himself and looking away, “Yep. That’s what happens when you spend nine years in near-poverty.”

He quiets down, staring at you for a second. You give him a tight-lipped smile, like the one you’ve seen Chiron give to some of the more uptight parents from camp. You hope to emulate him.

Jamie snickers, disguising it as a cough into his shoulder. Dick shoots him a glare, before turning back to you like a puppy.

Just as he opens his mouth, Will sticks his head out the window, “We’ve got the first one! Down by the Bay! Let’s get in, and get out.”

You nod, turning your bracelet into a sword. You stand up, using the roof of the truck to steady yourself as you look out. You park roughly, and you jump out quickly, running to the site. Will comes up beside you, passing you a small dagger. With a deep breath, you slice your palm.

Dick gasps, hand flying out before he stops, looking as though it was painful. You drip your blood in a circle around you, squeezing tightly to urge more blood out. Eventually, you form a simple design around you, and you carefully step out of it.

You shake your hand and turn to Jamie, “Light it up.”

He carefully hops between lines of blood, standing in the middle. He clasps his hands in prayer, mumbling ancient Greek beneath his breath. As he finishes the line, the blood begins to glow brightly before settling into a shimmery red.

You sigh, turning to Jamie, “You’re bleeding for the next one.” He laughs, nodding as you pile back into the car. Will checks the GPS, putting the new location in. You brace yourself, ready for whatever comes next.

[aventurineswife]

“I Will Stay, For You”

Summary: Ratio is overjoyed to have you revived after your death, though you now struggle with your existence as a demi-god. Caught between your responsibilities as a guardian of the heavens and the warmth of your relationship with Ratio, you feel torn. Despite Ratio's loving and passionate efforts to keep you grounded, you confess your longing to return to the stars. In a heartbreaking moment, Ratio pleads with you to stay, and you promise to remain in this world—for him. Together, you begin a new chapter, seeking balance between your celestial duties and your love.

Tags: Ratio x Demi-God!Reader, Angst with a Happy Ending, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Conflict, Rebirth, Character Growth.

Warnings: Mentions of death and resurrection, Emotional distress and inner conflict, Angst related to self-identity and love, Mild tears and sadness.

The gentle hum of the air was interrupted only by the soft rustling of fabric as you lay in Ratio’s arms, his comforting presence enveloping you like a warm blanket. His hair cascaded across his face as he tilted his head down toward you, offering a small, teasing smile.

"You know," he murmured, brushing his fingers through your hair, "if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were finally softening up to me."

You forced a chuckle, though it felt hollow against your chest. Softening up to him? That was a word you hadn’t felt in a long time. For all the warmth he showed you, you couldn’t shake the cold emptiness that clung to your heart. You were dead once, resurrected by the hands of fate—or perhaps by one of Aeons itself. Now you wandered between two worlds, pretending to be a human, pretending to live, but you couldn’t forget where you belonged. You couldn’t forget the stars, the vastness of the sky, the responsibility you held as a demi-god, and most of all... you couldn’t forget the weight of your own secret desire to return.

Ratio was your love, your confidant in this strange, second life. He had been there, steadfast in his devotion when you had returned from the dead, offering you his intellect and his heart. He had promised to help you find your place in this world, but no matter how much you tried, the hole in your chest remained.

“Something’s bothering you,” Ratio said, his tone softening as his eyes studied you with an intensity that made your heart ache. His hands moved to your arms, holding you with care as if he could sense the distance in your soul. "You’re not the same as you were before... I thought we’d been making progress, but I can feel you slipping away from me."

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure. “I’m just tired. I’m still adjusting.”

He chuckled, though the sound was laced with concern. "Adjusting? To what exactly? I’ve seen the way you look at the stars sometimes... Your mind is elsewhere."

Your breath caught. The stars, your true home, your true purpose—they were so far beyond this mortal plane. But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak those words. Not to him. Not to Ratio.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

But Ratio wasn’t fooled. His brow furrowed, and his hand gently cupped your face, lifting your gaze to meet his. His eyes, sharp and searching, locked onto yours with an intensity that made your insides twist. “No. You’re not fine. I know you. You’re more than capable of hiding things from everyone else, but not from me.”

The weight of his words pressed on your chest, and the dam you had so carefully built began to crack. His eyes were full of love and care, and it was almost too much to bear. How could you betray him with the truth?

“I... I don’t belong here,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You immediately regretted them, feeling the sting of your own confession.

Ratio’s eyes widened in shock. His grip on you tightened as he searched your face for any sign of a joke. "What do you mean, you don’t belong here? You’re with me. You’re alive again. This is your life now. You’re not alone."

You couldn’t bear the hurt in his voice, the desperation to keep you tethered to this world. “I belong in the heavens, Ratio. Not here. I never did.”

Ratio froze, the air between you thick with unspoken words. The realization hit him like a wave crashing into the shore, his eyes widening in disbelief. He searched your face, as if trying to understand what you had just revealed.

“You... want to leave?” he asked, his voice breaking. “You want to go back to heaven?”

The word felt like a knife to his heart, and he felt as though the ground beneath him was collapsing. His mind raced—how could he have been so blind? All this time, he had assumed that the happiness you shared, the quiet moments in his arms, were enough to anchor you here, with him. But it hadn’t been enough. You were always waiting for something else, something he could never give you.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ratio,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. "But I can’t stay. I’m... not truly alive. Not in the way you think. I can’t ignore the call of the stars forever."

The silence stretched between you, thick with unsaid words. Then, his voice, raw and pleading, broke the stillness. “No, don’t say that. You’re here with me. I—I need you here, please. Don’t go.”

His hands reached for yours, pulling you closer. You didn’t resist, but the ache in your chest only grew. You had loved him, truly, but your soul was bound to something higher, something beyond this fleeting existence. It wasn’t just your heart that longed for home—it was your very essence.

“Ratio,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re the only reason I’ve stayed as long as I have. You’ve made this second life bearable... But I can’t pretend anymore.”

Ratio’s face crumpled with sorrow, his perfect intellect failing to provide an answer, a solution. The tears fell freely from his eyes now, a reflection of the pain you both felt. "Please. Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I... I never realized how much I was asking you to give up. You don’t deserve to live a lie just for my sake."

The words hurt you more than you had expected. For his sake. You weren’t here for him, you were here for you. But now, in the face of his pleading, you couldn’t help but reconsider. His love, his devotion, his genuine care for you—it was unlike anything you had ever known. Could you really leave him behind?

“I promise I won’t leave,” you said, your voice breaking. You reached for him, your hands shaking. "I’ll stay. I’ll stay with you, for as long as I can."

Ratio’s expression softened in a way you had never seen before. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, as though afraid you might disappear if he let go. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll help you, I swear. I’ll find a way to make you feel alive again. You don’t have to be alone in this.”

You buried your face against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on your shoulders lightened, if only for a moment. You were no longer alone in your pain.

“Together,” you whispered. “We’ll find a way... together.”

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still a place for you in this world—with him.

[cosmotellurias]

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

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

[matchanon]

mydei misses you

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

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

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

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

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

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

mydei misses you

[just-another-personal-side-blog]

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

[luxthestrange]

RoR Incorrect quotes#183 Baby Fever

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/n*threateningly*Give your mother a hug

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

You and him share a tight, warm hug

Part 2 of:

[overflowingteacupoflove]

a hot new couple has dropped in the Mushroom circle Son of apollo!Chris x daughter of Demeter!reader

Chris - Son of Apollo, god of the sun.

Care bear band-aids, pins COVERING his bags, theater kid, guitar, journals, sticker collector, painter, cherry pepsi, Hyacinthus, messy hair, swim trunks with sun's on them, Heather's enthusiast.

"Im having such a bad hair day :c"

Bug- Daughter of Demeter, goddess of the harvest.

baking, bird-watching, blackberries that are JUST ripe enough, baby tee's, bug collector, pink converse, grass stained jeans, embroidery, has a pet deer named Strawberry, has the slightest of anger issues.

"Atleast your hair doesnt have grass stuck in it."

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

a pr3ttyf4wn record!

[kikiiidym]

"ꜱᴘᴇʟʟʙᴏᴜɴᴅ"

Warnings!: None, enjoy!

Pairing!: Percy Jackson x Female Circe!reader.

A/N!: This is so long oml.

Words: 1929.

The air in your cabin shimmered faintly, like the whole room was holding its breath.

Herbs hung from the beams overhead, swaying gently even though there was no wind. Glowing potions pulsed quietly on the shelves, casting a warm golden hue across the floor, and the faint hum of enchantment buzzed through the space like a heartbeat. It felt alive in here—like the walls themselves were watching, waiting. The air smelled of lavender, sea salt, and something unmistakably electric.

You stood over Percy, who was perched on the edge of your velvet-draped bed—shirtless, bronzed skin glowing in the candlelight, a shallow cut running down his side from training. His dark hair was tousled, damp at the edges from the effort, and the sea green of his eyes was nearly black in this light, narrowed slightly as he watched you prepare the tonic.

“You know I could’ve just used water, right?” he said, his voice low, teasing. But there was a hitch in it when you turned back toward him, your fingers glowing faintly as you dipped the cloth into a shimmering potion.

“I know,” you replied softly, not meeting his gaze. “But then you wouldn’t get to see me fuss over you.”

That shut him up.

You knelt beside him, your movements fluid and quiet. You dabbed at the wound slowly, with a touch that was far too gentle for something so small. Your other hand braced lightly on his knee, the closeness burning in ways the potion never could. His breath hitched when your knuckles brushed the ridges of his abdomen—just for a moment.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, voice just above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away. You could feel the tension in his thigh under your palm, the tight coil of restraint running through him like a current.

“Not really,” he murmured finally, his eyes fixed on your face like you were something he couldn’t quite believe. “It’s kind of… nice.”

You finally looked up—and gods, that was a mistake.

His face was closer than it should’ve been. Close enough that you could count the tiny flecks of silver in his eyes, the salt still clinging to his lashes, the way his chest rose just a little too fast. His gaze flicked down to your lips, hesitated, then met your eyes again. Like he was waiting for permission.

Your throat tightened. “Percy…”

“Yeah?” he asked, voice rougher now.

You didn’t move your hand. Couldn’t. You were still pressed lightly against him, and your fingers had stilled on the edge of the healing salve. His skin was warm—too warm, like he was burning from the inside.

He raised his hand, slow and uncertain, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. His thumb lingered against your cheek, featherlight, like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him stay there.

“You know you’re dangerous, right?” he whispered. “All this magic stuff… and still, the scariest thing in here is you.”

You exhaled a laugh, but it trembled. “I could turn you into a frog.”

He leaned in, eyes never leaving yours. “Wouldn’t stop me from wanting to kiss you.”

And then—bam.

His lips met yours.

Warm. Slow. Desperate.

He kissed you like he’d been waiting for this exact moment to breathe. Like the spell of your fingers on his skin finally undid every knot inside him. It was hesitant for only a second—until you melted into him. Your hands found his shoulders, slipping upward into his damp hair, and his arms circled your waist, tugging you into his lap.

A bottle slipped from your fingers, hitting the floor with a delicate crack—golden mist curling upward as enchanted herbs giggled from the rafters like misbehaving children. A vine curled curiously around a bedpost. The candles flickered low, casting everything in shadowy gold.

Neither of you noticed.

You were too wrapped in each other, his mouth trailing along your jaw now, your breath catching in a way that wasn’t from magic. You tasted the ocean on his lips, and he tasted your spellwork like it was ambrosia. You pulled back only slightly, your forehead pressed to his, both of you flushed, breathless.

“This is a bad idea,” you murmured.

“Probably,” he whispered, kissing you again, softer this time. “Still want to.”

Your fingers traced the edge of the sun-kissed scar on his shoulder, and he shivered. His touch found the small of your back, steady and reverent, grounding you to this moment—like you were the only thing real in the world.

Outside, Camp Half-Blood carried on as usual.

But inside your cabin, wrapped in glowing mist and slow-burning magic, it was like time had stopped.

And maybe it had. You were a daughter of Circe, after all.

And Percy Jackson had just fallen under your spell, how ironic.

—

The morning sun filtered through your cabin’s stained glass windows, painting the room in streaks of soft gold, lilac, and seafoam green. Everything looked a little… hazy. Sparkly, even. But it wasn’t dust or morning dew.

It was you.

You stood at the vanity brushing your hair, cheeks still warm from last night—trying to act normal, trying to be normal—but the way Percy Jackson was watching you from your bed made it very hard.

Especially when your magic was acting weird.

Every time you moved, little sparks of gold trailed from your fingertips. The vines around your bedpost had bloomed overnight into fat pink roses, and your potion shelf? Half the vials were glowing a suspicious, flirty shade of red.

Percy stretched behind you, muscles taut, a blanket pooling low on his hips. His voice was raspy, freshly woken and unhelpfully attractive.

“So, uh… is that a normal post-kiss reaction for you? Or is the sparkles thing just for me?”

You turned sharply—bad idea—because now you were looking right at him. Shirtless. Glowing faintly. His skin still carried traces of last night’s enchantment. And stars, he looked so smug.

You crossed your arms. “You’re glowing too, seaweed brain.”

He blinked and looked down. “…Oh.”

You bit back a laugh. “Told you I was dangerous.”

He grinned, running a hand through his messy hair. “I think I like dangerous.”

Before you could come up with a clever retort, there was a knock at the door.

Your blood ran cold.

“(Y/N)? Are you in there?”

Annabeth.

Percy shot up so fast he nearly knocked over a candle. “What time is it?!”

You rushed to the door, flinging a golden tapestry over the bed with one hand while using the other to snuff the sparkles clinging to your clothes.

“I’m—uh! Coming! Just—herbs exploded! You know how it is!”

Annabeth’s muffled voice was unconvinced. “Exploding herbs?”

You hissed at Percy to hide, and he—half-panicked, half-amused—rolled off the bed and ducked behind the velvet curtain that partitioned your sleeping area. You could hear him trying not to laugh.

You cracked the door open, peeking out with the world’s guiltiest smile. “Hi.”

Annabeth raised a brow. “You missed breakfast. Chiron’s looking for Percy. Something about a new quest.”

“Oh, right. I think he said he was… uh… swimming?”

Annabeth frowned. “Swimming?”

“Very enthusiastically,” you added.

From behind the curtain, there was the faintest thud—like someone accidentally knocked over a potion bottle.

Annabeth glanced past you, suspicious. “Are you okay?”

“Yep! Just… dealing with a lot of magical buildup. Super normal Circe stuff. Totally fine. No glowing boys or anything.”

She squinted. “What?”

“Tea?” you blurted.

Annabeth sighed and shook her head. “You’re lucky I don’t have time to interrogate you. Just… if you see Percy, tell him to meet Chiron now.”

You nodded quickly. “Will do!”

As soon as she turned and disappeared down the path, you slammed the door shut and exhaled hard.

Percy peeked his head out from behind the curtain. “You are the worst liar.”

“And you are glowing like a love-struck lantern, so maybe keep your commentary to yourself.”

He walked out with that grin again—cocky, sweet, and just a little dangerous. “So… are there other side effects I should know about?”

Your eyes sparkled. “You tell me. Any sudden urge to write poetry? Talk to animals? Fall madly in love?”

He stepped closer, until your back was against the door again, his body heat curling around you like a wave.

“Too late on the last one,” he murmured.

Your breath caught, and somewhere across the room, a plant spontaneously burst into bloom.

⸻

That night you couldn’t sleep

Not because of the glowing plants.

Not because of the way your fingertips still sparked when you thought of his kiss.

Not even because of the suspicious humming coming from your mirror—Circe’s magic always liked to gossip.

No.

You couldn’t sleep because when you did, you felt him.

Percy.

It started slowly. At first, it was like a tug in your chest. Then you saw the ocean behind your closed eyes—dark and endless and warm. And him—barefoot on the shore, shirt wrinkled, sea breeze catching in his curls. His expression was soft, uncertain, like he didn’t know why he was dreaming of you either.

And then… he spoke.

“Are you real?”

You woke up with a gasp, heartbeat pounding. Somewhere in Camp, you knew Percy had just jolted awake too.

⸻

The next morning.

You marched across Camp Half-Blood with your cloak dragging behind you, irritation and panic fizzing in your stomach like a poorly-brewed potion. You didn’t knock on the Big House door—you barged in, flinging the beaded curtain aside with zero grace.

Chiron looked up from his scrolls, blinking. “Good morning, Miss—”

“I need to talk to you. Now. It’s about Percy.”

He sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

You froze. “What do you mean?”

The centaur turned, picked up an ancient book from a high shelf, and laid it open on the table. The page showed an illustration: a glowing thread tied between two figures—one wielding a wand, the other a sword. The heading read:

“Circean Heartbond: A Rare Magical Entanglement.”

Your throat dried. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Chiron didn’t smile. “It happens when a child of Circe offers healing—genuine, emotional healing—to someone they care for deeply. Combined with romantic intent… it weaves a thread. A bond.”

You blinked. “So what, we’re magically attached now?”

Chiron nodded gravely. “Emotionally. Mentally. Sometimes… even physically. The more intense the moment, the stronger the thread.”

Your hands hit the table. “I dabbed a wound! That’s all.”

Chiron arched a brow. “You dabbed a wound while straddling him in a room full of enchanted love potions.”

You flushed and had a hard time forming a coherent sentence before you realized. “...Okay, so a little more than that but...wait- how do you—”

As if summoned by your panic, the door burst open—and Percy stumbled in, hair messy, eyes wild.

“Okay, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think I saw her in my dream last night and now I can’t stop feeling things and the ocean keeps whispering her name, and I think I might be cursed—”

You both locked eyes.

A soft golden pulse rippled through the air, invisible to everyone but the two of you.

“…Hi,” he said breathlessly.

You swallowed. “Hi.”

Chiron rubbed his temples. “Oh dear.”

⸻

Outside, the skies had begun to shimmer with magic. Birds paused mid-flight. Flowers leaned toward the cabin where you’d kissed him.

The bond wasn’t just forming. It was alive.

And now, you and Percy were going to have to deal with it.

Together.