#i looked to the youngest and said 'explain your craft'

[mechaknight-98]

Outrage II (NSFW) FT Nayoung

Operator's Notes: Now back with more x-men lore and gratuitous nudity

The hectic sound stage made finding where to go for the girl group Lightsum difficult. Thankfully their manager was there to guide them. She led them to their markers and where they were to stand when performing and gave clear directions as they waited. After this last show, they’d be free to explore California to their heart’s content. For Nayoung this meant seeing her best friend Davy Jones also known by his stage name Kraken. As the music played Lightsum crafted an excellent and explosive performance of their newest song. After the performance, they sat across couches from the talk show host.

“Well, Lightsum that was a Pretty great performance. (The audience claps while the talk show host gesticulates to encourage more) you guys are so talented. Can I ask what drives you?”

The interviewer shifted her attention to Chowon. “Chowon, what drives you?”

Chowon smiled confidently, leaning into the question with the poise of a leader. "Honestly, I think it’s the desire to keep improving. Whether it's dancing, singing, or just connecting with our fans, there's always room to grow. That pushes me every day. We’re constantly evolving, and I love being a part of that process."

The host nodded thoughtfully. "That's a great perspective, always reaching for more."

Next, she turned to Sangah. "And what about you, Sangah?"

Sangah, known for her strong stage presence, gave a warm smile. "For me, it's my family. They've always been my biggest supporters, so I do everything I can to make them proud. My younger sister especially—she’s like my biggest fan. So I just want to give back to them in any way I can."

The audience let out a collective "aww" as Sangah’s sincerity resonated with them.

"And Hina?" the host asked, directing her attention to the youngest member.

Hina beamed with her usual youthful energy. "I just love being able to perform! When I see people dancing along with us or singing our songs, it feels like we’re all sharing this huge, exciting moment together. That’s what keeps me going—it’s like we’re all connected through the music."

The host smiled at Hina’s infectious enthusiasm. "It sounds like the whole group has such a strong connection to your fans and each other."

Nayoung, sitting beside them, listened as her members gave their answers before offering her own thoughts on being enamored with performing. The interviewer noticed that Nayoung’s answer stuck out the most, however. She cited a love of performing and being enamored by it.

“Oh enamored with performing huh?” The host said Smiling. Nayoung nods as she shifts in her chair.

"Speaking of Enamored, it seems like you have the eye of another performer, and fellow mutant right?"

Nayoung blushed and said, "Oh Kraken is just a friend but also a good musical partner. Our flows work really well together." Nayoung explained.

The interviewer smirked and said, "Right? Well, then I hope you two do many collaborations in the future because the chemistry between you two is electric in any genre."

After the interview Nayoung and the rest of the group head back to their hotel. They move through really quickly as they all get into their rooms, and when she’s showered and done she texts “I’m done” to Kraken” She is happy when she hears the knock on the door. She opens it to see her boyfriend the unclean vocalist for The Flying Dutchman Davy Jones, but also known for his side project Kraken, which most of the world knows him as. Nayoung holds him tight before giving him a myriad of kisses all over his face covering him in her lipstick. Nayoung smiles and says, "I missed you,"

Kraken smiles and says, "Well I am here for you, and the weekend is ours."

Nayoung smiles and says, "I am going to have so much fun with you this weekend,"

Kraken smiled and said, "I look forward to it.

Kraken teleported Nayoung with him to the studio where his friends were. It was her last off weekend before their next comeback and she wanted to spend it with Kraken whom she hadn't seen in almost a month. However JD and the rest of "The Flying Dutchman" were back in the studio, working on more songs for their new album. After Fans heard the single with her and became ravenous for more. So JD started writing Sledgehammer. Their heaviest song yet.

JD's bandmates were surprised to see JD with a woman. They thought their friend had taken a vow of celibacy a long time ago, but here they were meeting his new "Friend"

"So what is she doing here?" Douglas the "nonchallant" member asked.

"She wanted to hang out and likes our music so this seemed like a good idea to show her the new stuff we were working on."

"Are you sure about this?" Jojo the more cautious friend asked.

Nayoung opened her jacket to show her "The Flying Dutchman T-shirt and everyone relaxed as she sat on the producer's side.

Nayoung sat in the cozy, dimly lit recording studio, watching as the band members of The Flying Dutchman adjusted their instruments and fine-tuned their equipment. Kraken had invited her to join them for the session, and she was thrilled to witness the creative process firsthand.

As Kraken excused himself for a quick break, Jojo, the band's drummer, approached Nayoung with a friendly smile. He was stout, with a very brotherly demeanor that belied his intense focus when he played.

"Hey, Nayoung, right?" Jojo asked, taking a seat next to her.

"Yeah, that's me," she replied, smiling warmly.

Jojo leaned back in his chair, glancing toward the door to make sure Kraken was out of earshot. "So, Kraken’s been talking a lot about you lately."

Nayoung felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "Really? I hope it’s all good things."

Jojo chuckled. "Mostly. But seriously, we’re all pretty protective of him, you know?"

Nayoung nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I get it. He's a great guy, and I’d never want to hurt him."

"That's good to hear," Jojo said, his tone still light but with an edge of seriousness. "Kraken’s been through a lot with the band and all the pressures that come with it. He’s like a brother to us, and we just want to make sure he's happy."

"I really care about him," Nayoung said earnestly. "I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up."

Jojo studied her for a moment, then nodded, seemingly satisfied with her sincerity. "I believe you. Just know that if you ever need anything or if something’s bothering you about the whole band thing, you can talk to me or any of us."

"Thanks, Jojo. I appreciate that," Nayoung replied, grateful for the support.

As Kraken returned to the studio, oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place, Jojo gave Nayoung a reassuring pat on the shoulder and stood up.

"All right, let’s get back to it!" Jojo announced, picking up his drumsticks and heading back to his kit.

Kraken smiled at Nayoung as he sat down beside her. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything’s great," Nayoung said, feeling elated.

When everything was set up Jojo started with some heavy percussions. Followed up by AJ's haunting baseline. To compliment Noah and Dougla's powerful riff lines on keys and guitar. The AJ started singing about Massive machines mashing municipalities. Nayoung watched happily. They worked so well together and then she noticed JD had taken his Psionic barriers down. And the edges of the room began to fray ever so slightly. Her eyes went wide as she hadn't really seen the visual effects of his powers but noticed that reality began to unravel at the seams.

She watched intrigue. Tentacles began to grow from the walls as his power superimposed itself on reality. The room seemed to take on an almost misty appearance like they were truly aboard a ghost pirate ship. Nayoung smiled seeing Kraken so at ease, and in his element.

"Controll the Mob, Master the tides. Control the people's covered eyes. Destroy identity and replace it with malady. Crush dissidents like a sledgehammer. Broken bones and dreams left to die."

JD screamed and Nayoung watched in awe as his voice tore through the slowly distorted reality. It created this super interesting effect on his voice that made it sound almost filtered. Nayoung listened to the rest and after finishing JD put his barriers back up and turned to see Nayoung rocking out and headbanging her hair whipping in the producer section.

"How was that Nayo?" JD asked taking Nayoung out of her trance.

"Oh, that was so good. I loved the breakdown where you held the Hammer growl for 15 seconds, and you guys (Pointing to the rest of the bandmates) killed it." Nayoung said happy. The rest of "The Flying Dutchman laughed and all started packing up. When they finished they all walked over to the other side and began listening to the runthrough. Nayoung sat in the back jamming as they mixed and mastered the song before she realized that one of the drum sections had a similar bounce to it like Honey or Spice. She turned to JD who was focused then smiled.

After they finished this song a couple of hours later Nayoung and Kraken were off in his car. As they drove Nayoung opened the window and had her hand wave outside of it when an idea popped into her head.

“We should go to Krakoa?” Nayoung says happily

“Um, why?” Kraken asked

Nayoung smiled, “Well You’ve never been and I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

"I don't think that's a good idea," Kraken said and Nayoung noticed his psionic barriers were back up. Nayoung smiled and said,

"Worried? That's so unlike you." she chided Kraken.

Kraken raised an eyebrow and then said, "Um well the issue is my dad was quite vocal against the leadership of Krakoa. So the moment they hear my name there may be an issue...or several."

Nayoung looked at Kraken worried, "Well do you believe what your dad said?"

"Some of it yes, and some of it no. He believed that having a super sapient continent that allowed mutants to be gods was a bad idea, which I disagree with. He also believed mutants were safe with regular humans, and seeing what happened with him and various hate groups over the years I disagree, but at the same time quite a few of the people who are in positions of power aren't good people."

Nayoung's eyes widened and asked, "Who?"

" Beast is a xenophobic racist trying to put a wall around Krakoa... Well, it's a psionic barrier that hurts mutants but you get the idea."

"Oh I remember that, but he did say it was hypothetical." Nayoung countered.

"He also made mention of chipping, tracking, and cataloging mutants," Kraken adds.

"Yeah, that was a crazy thing to say." Nayoung agreed

"Also this is discounting what dude said about mutants who stayed with humans as being house n-words," JD answers.

"Yeah Spike was a bit angry then but he's calmed down. On second thought you may be right because they have been in a weird spot these last few years"

"you know what" Let's go. Kraken said

Nayoung looked at Kraken shocked and to ease her worries he said,

"Well you know if I live in fear my whole life then nothing will change, so I might as well try to live outside of that fear."

Nayoung smiled proudly at Kraken, "Okay Let's get you packed."

After getting packed for the weekend trip Nayoung used her mutant's band to transport them to the mutant nation. She arrived in her family's other home. She smiled as she led Kraken to the room they'd be sharing. Kraken was surprised by the massive size of the whole house.

"Wow is your family like rich here?" Kraken asked.

Nayoung shook her head, "No just early adopters. My dad and mom took a chance and were rewarded greatly. It might not seem like it but we are a pretty big deal here."

Kraken nodded as he responded, "Okay that makes sense."

"So you ready to go out and see the country?" Nayoung asked Kraken

Kraken nodded as Nayoung led him outside. As she walked out she shed her "human form" and took on her fiery Psychic form. Kraken smiles as he looks at her, and lets his barriers psionic barriers down.

As Nayoung and Kraken stepped out of the house, the warm breeze of Krakoa greeted them. The sky was an impossibly vibrant blue, the sun casting a golden hue over the lush, sprawling landscape. Everything felt alive here—the trees seemed to hum, the ground pulsed with quiet energy, and the air itself felt rich with possibility. This was a place where mutants thrived, and Nayoung seemed to be in her element.

Nayoung let out a content sigh as she shifted into her fiery psychic form, her energy radiating in soft waves that shimmered around her. She glanced at Kraken, her eyes playful and bright. “Ready for the full Krakoa experience?” she asked, her voice teasing but full of excitement.

Kraken chuckled, finally letting down his psionic barriers. He felt a lightness as the psychic weight he constantly carried dissipated. “Lead the way,” he said, feeling more at ease than he had expected. There was something about being with Nayoung, in this place, that made everything feel...right.

They wandered through the lively streets of Krakoa, where other mutants greeted Nayoung with warm smiles and friendly waves. She was clearly well-known and liked here, and Kraken couldn’t help but admire the way she fit so effortlessly into this world. As they walked, she pointed out some of the landmarks, explaining bits of history and culture.

“That’s the Arbor Magna,” she said, nodding toward a massive tree that seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky. “It’s where the resurrection protocols happen. If a mutant dies, this is where they’re reborn.”

Kraken raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Reborn? Like...completely?”

“Yep,” Nayoung replied, her fiery form flickering slightly as she spoke. “Their memories, their essence—it all comes back. It’s kind of beautiful in a way, knowing that death isn’t the end here.”

Kraken thought about it for a moment. “It’s...different,” he admitted. “But I guess it’s comforting, too. Knowing you can come back.”

Nayoung smiled, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you die while we’re here. I plan on keeping you around for a while.”

Kraken smirked, glancing down at her. “Oh, is that so?”

She looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Of course. I still have a lot of things I want to do with you.”

As they continued walking, they found themselves by the beach. The sand was soft beneath their feet, and the water was a sparkling turquoise, inviting and serene. Nayoung kicked off her shoes, laughing as she ran toward the shoreline. She looked back at Kraken, her fiery form now glowing more brightly in the sunlight. “Come on!” she called out, her laughter infectious.

Kraken shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he followed her. The cool water lapped at their feet, and for a moment, everything felt peaceful. He wrapped his arm around Nayoung’s waist, pulling her close. “This place is amazing,” he said quietly.

Nayoung leaned her head against his shoulder, her fiery aura softly blending with his energy. “It is. I’m glad you came with me.”

They stood there in silence for a while, just enjoying the moment, the calmness of the waves, and the warmth of each other’s presence. Finally, Kraken spoke, his voice low and thoughtful. “You know, I wasn’t sure about this whole trip. Krakoa...it’s not exactly what I expected.”

Nayoung looked up at him, curious. “What did you expect?”

Kraken shrugged. “Something more...chaotic, I guess. With everything I’ve heard about the politics here, I thought it would feel oppressive. But it’s...different. It feels free.”

Nayoung smiled softly, reaching up to brush a strand of his hair from his face. “That’s what Krakoa is supposed to be—a home, a safe place for all mutants. Sure, there are problems, but every place has its issues. What matters is that we have each other.”

Kraken stared into her eyes for a long moment before leaning down to kiss her gently. The kiss was soft, sweet, and filled with all the unspoken words between them. When they finally pulled apart, Nayoung’s smile widened, and she playfully tugged him toward the water.

“Let’s go for a swim,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Kraken laughed. “You know I’m not really a swimming kind of guy.”

“Come on,” Nayoung urged, her hand slipping into his. “It’s Krakoa. Live a little!”

With a resigned sigh and a grin, Kraken followed her into the water, their laughter echoing across the shoreline. As they splashed and played, it was as if the weight of the world melted away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in each other’s light and warmth.

For the first time in a long time, Kraken felt completely free. And he realized, as he watched Nayoung float effortlessly beside him, her fiery aura casting a soft glow over the water, that maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.

As the day wound down Nayoung took Kraken to the last spot he "needed" to see the memorial of the fallen. As Nayoung and Kraken stood by the memorial of the fallen, the atmosphere was somber. The names of long-dead mutants etched into the stone served as a heavy reminder of the sacrifices made to build Krakoa, a place where mutants could be safe—at least in theory. The two of them stood silently, side by side, paying their respects to those who had fought and died for their people.

“I know I should probably say something deep here, but—” Kraken began, only to stop mid-sentence as his body tensed. Nayoung turned confusion and worry spreading across her face.

A pale hand erupted from Kraken’s chest, and blood pooled in his mouth. Nayoung’s heart raced as she watched, horrified, while a familiar, ghastly figure burst forth from Kraken’s body. Cassandra Nova. The pale figure smiled coldly, discarding Kraken’s body like an old shell.

"Ah, well, you were a good vehicle, Dai, but you’ve served your purpose,” Cassandra said casually, as though Kraken’s life had been nothing more than a tool for her rebirth. She extended her hands toward the graves. “Now, for revenge.”

Nayoung could do nothing but watch as Cassandra’s powers stirred the corpses buried beneath the memorial. The ground began to shift, and slowly, the long-dead mutants began to rise from their resting places, their bodies twisted and shrouded in shadowy forms.

Kraken’s vision dimmed, his consciousness slipping as Cassandra’s influence overpowered him. It was like fading into a dream he couldn’t wake up from. Everything became surreal—until a voice cut through the dark haze.

"Wow, that was horrible," the voice said, vibrant and full of energy.

“Huh?” Kraken replied, utterly confused.

“Well, long story short, Cassandra Nova used your mind as a Psionic safety deposit box to revive herself when she had enough energy. Unfortunately, killing you was kind of the last step in her plan. But good news! You’re not dead. At least, not fully. I can revive you, but there’s going to be some... changes.”

The voice explained that Cassandra had altered his X-gene, farming his psionic energy. That was why his barriers had always been up, protecting him even from his own powers. But now, his original mutation could reemerge.

Kraken nodded, unsure of what exactly that meant, but trusting the voice. “Well, I guess that beats being dead.”

“Great! I’ll fix your body, but you’re going to need to fight—like, right now.”

Before Kraken could even fully register what was happening, everything burst into a force of bright colors. Then, in an instant, he was back in the real world, standing face-to-face with a very surprised Cassandra Nova.

“That’s impossible!” she exclaimed, but her disbelief lasted only a second before Kraken’s fist connected with her face. The impact knocked her out cold, her body crumpling to the ground.

The next few minutes blurred together as Kraken dealt with the remaining shadowy corpses and assessed the situation. Nayoung rushed to his side, her face a mix of shock and relief. Kraken quickly explained what had happened with Cassandra Nova, how she had manipulated his X-gene and used him as a vessel for her resurrection.

As soon as he finished, Cyclops approached, his expression stern but not hostile. “We need to talk,” he said, gesturing for Kraken and Nayoung to follow him.

They were led to a secluded part of Krakoa, a quiet space away from the bustling center of the mutant nation. Waiting for them were Beast and Jean Grey, their faces serious as they gathered around to discuss what had just occurred. Cyclops crossed his arms, his eyes sharp as he addressed Kraken.

“We’ve been monitoring your arrival since you set foot on Krakoa,” Cyclops began. “We were aware of your connection to Cassandra Nova, but we didn’t know the full extent of it. Until now.”

Beast adjusted his glasses, his voice clinical but with a hint of concern. “Your X-gene has been... tampered with. Cassandra Nova didn’t just farm your powers for energy; she altered your entire mutation. What you have now is unlike anything we’ve seen before.”

Jean Grey chimed in, her tone softer. “We want to help you, Kraken, but we need to understand what’s happened to you first. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s clear Cassandra Nova manipulated more than just your abilities.”

Kraken shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. “I didn’t know she was using me as a backup plan. But now that she’s gone...”

Cyclops raised an eyebrow. “Is she gone? You knocked her out, but we both know someone like Cassandra Nova doesn’t stay down for long.”

Nayoung, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. “Kraken didn’t ask for any of this. He didn’t know he was being used. We should be focusing on how to help him, not interrogating him.”

Jean nodded in agreement, stepping forward. “You’re right, Nayoung. Kraken is a victim of all of this. But he’s also a survivor.”

Beast interjected, his voice more pragmatic. “We need to keep a close eye on him. If his mutation has evolved beyond our understanding, we need to be prepared for any potential dangers.”

Kraken clenched his fists. “I’m not a threat.”

Cyclops uncrossed his arms, his posture relaxing slightly. “We’re not saying you are. But we’ve seen how dangerous tampered mutations can be, especially ones manipulated by someone like Cassandra Nova.”

Kraken looked to Nayoung, her presence calming him amidst the tension. She gave him a small, reassuring smile before turning to the others. “He’s not alone in this. Whatever happens, I’m with him.”

Cyclops exchanged a glance with Jean before nodding. “We’ll keep an open mind. For now, get some rest. We’ll reconvene once we’ve had more time to assess the situation.”

As they turned to leave, Kraken felt Nayoung slip her hand into his, grounding him once more. They had survived Cassandra Nova’s return together, and whatever came next, they would face it side by side. They arrive at her house for the night and walk in exhausted.

"That knockout punch was so funny." Nayoung teased. Kraken rolled his eyes as they moved around the living room eventually finding themselves in their shared bedroom getting ready to sleep.

When Nayoung bent over to pick something up Kraken noticed her perky jiggly ass for the first time. It looked so soft and squeezable. His intrusive thoughts told him to "grab it" repeatedly. Without a second thought, he reached out and grabbed it. Nayoung yelled at the unfamiliar feeling but as she felt the large hand grope and tease her ass she felt herself beginning to get wet. She turned around to see a dazed Kraken mindlessly grab her ass. She smiled as she bit her lip before turning to him.

“Oh naughty boy,” she teased, and Kraken lost control. He brought Nayoung in for a lurid kiss as he continued groping her soft bouncy ass. He had no idea where these impulses were coming from but just followed them. Nayoung on her part felt his strong hands roam her ass and smiled at him seductively in between chaste kisses. As they kiss Nayoung begins to grind her ass on Kraken’s crotch she smiles as she watches him shiver in pleasure.

“You like my ass baby?” she whispers with a seductive voice before going in for another kiss. Kraken nodded

“Then you should fuck it,” Nayoung said seductively as she casually dropped both of their pants. She marvels at his hard cock.

“Oh nice.” she cooed. Kraken lines himself with her asshole and watches as it clenched. Without warning Kraken slams his cock into Nayoung. She moans and groans in pleasure in pain as she arches her back into him. She rams her aching ass back onto Kraken hoping to get his dick deeper in her ass. As she did she guided his hands to her petite but bouncy breasts.

“Oh fuck yes. Tear my ass up.” Nayoung moans as her slick drips under them. Krakens’s grip tightens around Nayoung’s Breasts as he pounds her tight little ass. She doesn't even need to read his mind to know his brain is overstimulated by her and his new feelings. She laughs when she feels him erupt inside of her ass.

“Oh such a big load for me,” Nayoung says.

Kraken catches his breath as he and Nayoung fall into the nearby bed. She stares at him tenderly. She notices he is still hard for her. She smiles as she gently strokes his cock. She stares at him with the biggest heart eyes she has.

"you know I was beginning to think you didn't find me attractive." Nayoung teased.

"Why would you think that?" Kraken asked

Nayoung groaned as she said, "Well you never made a move until now?"

Kraken shrugged "well the urge never hit me until now."

"Huh weird. I guess Mrs. Nova was locking your libido down too." Nayoung suggested as she began to pick up the pace a bit on her handjob. Kraken groaned as she did so. Nayoung smiled.

"this new body is so responsive. I don't think I have ever seen you so reactive." Nayoung teased.

"Fuck Nayo keep it up I'm close." Kraken moaned. Nayoung smiled and said,

"What if I were to just stop right here, and leave you on the edge." to illustrate her point she slowed down to a tortously glacial pace. she smiled at Kraken, who moaned and bucked his hips into her hand.

"Um no no. I am in control baby. you'll get pleasure when I say so," she says as she grips on his meat tighter. she smiles when little beads of precum drip out into her hand, and she continues to stare at Kraken with those heart eyes before saying, "Okay now." before taking an unrelenting pace that's only goal was to get Kraken to cum. a few seconds later he exploded in her hand, and Nayoung smirked reveling in her control of her man.

The next morning, the sun rose over Krakoa, casting a warm golden light over the island's lush landscapes. Kraken and Nayoung were sitting outside, enjoying the peace and quiet after the chaos of the previous day. Kraken, still adjusting to the idea of being back in his original body, let his mind wander, wondering what the day ahead would bring.

Just then, a shimmering portal opened in front of them, and out stepped X-23, Magik, and Nightcrawler. Kraken tensed, recognizing them immediately as some of Krakoa's elite. Nayoung glanced at him with a reassuring smile, though her eyes were curious as well. They both stood as the trio approached.

"Kraken, Nayoung," Nightcrawler greeted warmly, his distinctive blue skin and gentle smile instantly putting Nayoung at ease. He glanced at Kraken with interest before turning his focus back to the group. "We wanted to check on you after yesterday’s... unexpected event."

"Unexpected is one way to put it," Kraken muttered, his arms crossed. "But I appreciate the concern."

Nightcrawler’s golden eyes studied Kraken for a moment before a look of recognition crossed his face. “Wait… I know you. You’re Daizen’s son, aren’t you? Daizen from Stanford, the professor.”

Kraken blinked in surprise. He wasn’t used to people recognizing his family, especially here. "Yeah... that’s my dad. Daizen Ishikawa. You knew him?"

Nightcrawler nodded, his expression a mix of admiration and somberness. “He was a great man, a prominent pro-mutant activist. He always fought for understanding between humans and mutants. I remember hearing him speak at the United Nations once. But...” Nightcrawler hesitated, "he was also... vocal in his opposition to Krakoa, wasn’t he?"

Magik, standing next to Nightcrawler with her sword resting on her shoulder, raised an eyebrow. "He was the one who said Krakoa would turn mutants into gods, wasn’t he?"

Kraken sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, that sounds like him. My dad was always complicated. He believed in mutants and humans coexisting, but he didn’t like the idea of isolating mutants on an island. Said it made us look like we were turning our backs on the world instead of fixing it."

X-23, quiet until now, crossed her arms and stepped forward. "So what do you think? Are you like him?"

Kraken met her gaze, his face unreadable for a moment before he spoke. "I’m not my father. I don’t agree with everything he said. He believed humans were capable of protecting mutants if we gave them the chance. But after seeing hate groups rise up, after what happened to him... I can't say I have that much faith."

Nayoung placed a comforting hand on his arm, sensing the emotion behind his words. Kraken took a deep breath, trying to find the right way to explain his beliefs. "I believe... that standing up for yourself is the only way to survive. You can’t wait for someone to save you. If you don’t fight for your own freedom, no one else will. And when you stand up, it gives others permission to do the same. That’s how you build stronger relationships, whether it’s between humans and mutants or between anyone. You show people your strength, and that pushes them to respect you."

Nightcrawler tilted his head, thoughtful. “So you believe in mutual respect earned through action?”

“Yeah," Kraken said, nodding. "I think mutants have to show the world we won’t be victims anymore, but that doesn’t mean we isolate ourselves. We have to engage with humans, show them we’re not going to be pushed around, but we’re also not above them. That’s how real relationships grow."

Magik gave a small smirk. "Interesting. You sound like you’d fit right in here after all."

X-23 uncrossed her arms, her expression softening slightly. "You’re saying we need to be strong, but not just for ourselves. For everyone else, too."

Kraken nodded again, more firmly this time. "Exactly. Standing up for yourself teaches others to stand up for themselves. And once that happens, respect grows naturally. It’s not about being superior or inferior—it’s about being equal, but not relying on someone else to define that for you."

Nightcrawler’s gaze softened with understanding, and he nodded in agreement. “Your father was a wise man, and it seems that you’ve inherited his passion, even if your paths differ.”

"I suppose," Kraken replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "But it’s not just about mutants being ‘better’ than humans, or setting ourselves apart. It’s about making sure we’re part of the world, standing our ground, and not letting fear—or anyone else—dictate our place in it."

Nayoung looked up at Kraken, her eyes bright with pride. “You’re right. If we want things to change, we can’t just run away from the world. We have to face it.”

X-23 nodded, stepping back as if the conversation had satisfied her curiosity. "Sounds like you’ve got your head on straight. Guess we don’t have to worry about you being like Cassandra Nova, after all."

Kraken let out a small, dry laugh. “Definitely not.”

Magik’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You might just survive here, Kraken."

Nightcrawler smiled warmly, reaching out to shake Kraken’s hand. “Welcome to Krakoa, my friend. I think you’ll find there are many here who share your beliefs.”

As Kraken shook his hand, he felt a sense of acceptance from the group, something that had been missing since he set foot on Krakoa. Maybe, just maybe, he could carve out a place here after all.

As they turned to leave, Kraken exchanged a glance with Nayoung. "Looks like I’m not so out of place here, huh?"

Nayoung smiled. “Told you so.”

Kraken glanced at it absentmindedly, seeing that he was tagged in a post by The Flying Dutchman’s official page. He opened the app, expecting some promotional material for their upcoming album, but as he scrolled through the post, his stomach twisted.

The words felt foreign, even though they were written clearly in front of him. “New sound, new direction. Excited to welcome our new vocalist…” Kraken’s grip tightened on his phone as he kept reading. Anger flared first, but sadness soon followed, settling deep in his chest.

Nayoung’s voice was light and cheerful in the background, talking to her members, but the sharp contrast to Kraken’s mounting turmoil felt like static in his head. She turned back to him, noticing the shift in his energy before she even saw his face.

“You okay?” she asked softly, stepping toward him.

Kraken took a slow breath, forcing a smile that felt brittle. “I’ll try to be.”

Nayoung didn’t seem convinced. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his torso and peppering him with soft kisses. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. Stay safe, okay?”

Kraken only nodded, watching as she headed off with her group. Once she was out of sight, he turned and walked home in silence.

Two weeks later.

At Nayoung’s concert in LA, Kraken sat in the audience, enjoying the energy of the crowd, though a part of him still felt disconnected from the excitement. Afterward, they met up at a quiet burger joint, the dim lighting and soft murmur of conversation providing a sense of calm after the high-energy performance.

Nayoung looked at him curiously, sensing something had shifted in him. He looked different somehow, more distant. She couldn’t quite place it.

“You know,” she began, taking a sip of her drink, “there’s this new artist I found recently. Reminds me a lot of you. His name is Daikaiju. He’s really good.”

Kraken raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Oh yeah? What’s your favorite song of his?”

Nayoung beamed, glad to see him smile, even if just for a moment. “Definitely Rampage. It’s eerie and moody but the lyrics are so fascinating. It’s like he’s trapped in this city full of people who use him. And then there’s Calamity, oh man, that one’s about standing up for yourself even when it’s terrifying.” She paused, watching him for a reaction. “Kind of like you.”

Kraken chuckled softly, nodding. “Sounds like my kind of music.”

“But enough about that—how’s The Flying Dutchman doing? I thought you guys just dropped a new album.”

Kraken’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he shrugged. “You should give it a listen.”

Nayoung frowned, confused. She took out her phone, pulling up the album she’d saved but hadn’t had time to hear yet. She tapped on Sledgehammer, expecting to hear Kraken’s familiar voice. As the song played, she frowned, skipping ahead. His voice was nowhere to be found.

Her confusion turned to shock as she checked the lead single—the one they’d worked on together. Nothing.

“They kicked you out,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kraken nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah.”

“But why? What happened?” she demanded, her anger rising.

Kraken’s smirk was bitter. “It’s simple, really. They saw the fight in Krakoa, saw me getting involved with mutants, and got scared. Said it was bad for the band’s image. I guess it wasn’t about the music anymore.”

Nayoung’s eyes flashed with fury. “That’s ridiculous!”

Kraken shrugged again, the weight of it all heavier than he let on. “It is what it is.”

Nayoung reached across the table, grabbing his hand. “You didn’t deserve that. You’re an amazing artist, and if they can’t see that, screw them.”

Kraken’s smile returned, softer this time. “Thanks. But hey, at least there’s always Daikaiju.”

Nayoung squeezed his hand, determined to support him, no matter what. Kraken smiled mischeviosky as Nayoung hugged him. She noticed and said,

“What is it?”

“Oh nothing,” Kraken responded. Nayoung pouted, “you're hiding something.” she said suspicious of Kraken.

“I am but I can't reveal everything just yet.”

Over the next few days, Nayoung found herself listening to Daikaiju more often than she intended. At first, it was just curiosity. The artist had dropped four singles seemingly out of nowhere, and the buzz around him was growing by the day. But it wasn’t just the hype—it was the music itself that grabbed her and wouldn’t let go. Each track carried a weight, as though the artist was unburdening himself with every note, every word.

Rampage was the first to hook her. It began with a slow, steady pulse of industrial beats, building gradually into a cacophony of heavy guitars and eerie synths. The sound was so raw, almost unpolished, but in a way that felt intentional. Like the music itself was a fight to maintain control, to keep from spiraling. The lyrics were sharp, almost biting. Daikaiju spoke of being trapped, surrounded by people and forces that drained him, used him, and cast him aside. But beneath that rage was something more—a sense of defiance.

The bridge of the song was quieter, almost a whisper, and Nayoung found herself leaning in, waiting for the next line. “Claws sharpened on broken chains… wings clipped, but I’ll soar again,” he sang. There was something unmistakably mutant in that imagery, something that spoke to the struggle of hiding, of being forced to suppress a part of yourself that should be free.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d heard this story before.

As the days went on, Nayoung dove deeper into Daikaiju’s music. Calamity came next, and she listened to it on repeat for hours. The song was slower, more haunting, with dissonant chords clashing against a backdrop of ambient noise. The lyrics painted a picture of cowardice and bravery, of the terrifying moment when you have to choose between hiding or standing up for yourself. “Courage isn’t in the absence of fear,” Daikaiju’s voice crooned, “it’s knowing fear, and standing anyway.”

There was something achingly personal in the way he sang those lines. It felt less like he was performing and more like he was confessing.

Every time Nayoung played one of his tracks, she felt a sense of familiarity tugging at the edges of her mind. It was more than just recognizing the themes of struggle and defiance—it was as if the person behind the music was someone she knew intimately. His voice carried a vulnerability she recognized, though it was often masked by the layers of distortion and effects. Daikaiju didn’t just sing about pain, isolation, and determination—he lived it in every note.

Late one night, Nayoung was scrolling through fan comments on one of the music forums when something caught her eye. Someone had written under a post about Eclipse, one of Daikaiju’s singles: “This guy sounds like Kraken but with more raw emotion. Anyone else getting that vibe?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Kraken. It couldn’t be, could it?

She tried to shake the thought from her mind at first. Kraken had been through a lot lately—getting kicked out of The Flying Dutchman, the fight in Krakoa—but this? This seemed almost too coincidental. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. The sudden change in Kraken’s behavior after the trip to Krakoa, the distant way he had been acting during their last few conversations. There was something unspoken hanging between them, something Kraken hadn’t been able to say outright.

And now, listening to Daikaiju, she could feel it. It was Kraken’s voice. Not just in the literal sense, though it had that same familiar grit and tone—but in the emotional depth, in the way he laid bare his struggles without fully explaining them. This was Kraken, stripped of the bravado and stage presence of The Flying Dutchman. This was Kraken speaking directly from his soul, unfiltered.

Her fingers shook as she hit replay on Rampage. This time, she listened even more intently, her mind racing. She heard the subtle shifts in his voice, the way he struggled to keep the anger in check. She recognized the lines that spoke to her directly, that made her think of the conversations they’d had late into the night about what it meant to be a mutant, about the battles they faced just to be themselves.

It was all there, hidden in plain sight. The identity Kraken had hidden from the world was woven into every beat, every word of Daikaiju’s music. He hadn’t explicitly said it, but it was there, for those who listened closely enough to understand.

Nayoung’s heart swelled with pride—and a deep sadness. Kraken had gone through this alone. He had taken all of the pain, the rejection, the confusion, and turned it into art. But in doing so, he had distanced himself from the people who cared about him.

She couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been planning this. Daikaiju wasn’t just a side project—it was his way of rebuilding himself, of finding a new voice after losing his place in the band. But it was also a way of hiding. By releasing this music under a new name, he was protecting himself from the vulnerability of exposing his true feelings.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized how deeply personal Daikaiju was. Kraken had taken his childhood nickname—Kaiju—and combined it with his first name, Daizen, to create something entirely new. It was as if he was reclaiming a part of himself he had lost over the years, a part that had been overshadowed by the fame and pressure of being in The Flying Dutchman.

Nayoung smiled, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. She had always known Kraken to be someone who fought for what he believed in, who stood up for himself no matter the odds. But now, she was seeing a different side of him—a side that was more introspective, more vulnerable. And she admired him even more for it.

With a soft sigh, she put her headphones down and sent Kraken a text: “You should know, Daikaiju is amazing. I’m proud of you.”

A few minutes passed before Nayoung’s phone buzzed, breaking her reverie. It was Kraken—no, Daikaiju now, she reminded herself. She couldn’t help but smile as she answered, excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

“So, you figured it out. My little sleuth,” he said, his voice laced with a playful mischief that immediately made her heart skip.

“Yeah,” Nayoung replied, trying to match his teasing tone, “on my fifteenth listen of Rampage, I finally cracked the case. I didn’t know you had more in you than just metal, Kraken.”

“Daikaiju,” he corrected, but there was no seriousness in it. “And yeah, there’s a lot I’ve been keeping under wraps. Metal’s great and all, but there’s more to me than just screaming and shredding.”

Nayoung grinned. “Mmm, there is, isn’t there?” She let her words hang in the air for a moment, enjoying the way they teased out a little silence before Kraken spoke again.

“Well, you know,” he began, his tone becoming more reflective, “one of the biggest things I pushed for in The Flying Dutchman was trying new sounds, experimenting beyond metal. But for them, it was always about being technically perfect. Especially Douglas. Everything had to be precise, academic even. Time signatures had to be flawless, tempos had to be perfect, and they were obsessed with hitting every mark.”

Nayoung could hear the frustration in his voice, though he kept it light. “Sounds exhausting.”

“Oh, it was. They were so caught up in making the music ‘perfect’ that they couldn’t finish anything. Before I joined, they could barely complete a song. It was like they were more interested in the mechanics of music than the art. I remember at one point saying, ‘Look, how are we supposed to play half of this stuff live?’ You know? Live performances are where we make a big chunk of our money, and some of their ideas were just impossible to pull off.”

She laughed softly. “I can’t even imagine trying to sing along to that.”

Kraken chuckled in return. “Exactly! It got so bad that it sucked the fun out of creating. Music stopped being about making something that spoke to people—it became a math equation. Sure, we sounded good on a technical level, but we were missing soul.”

“Well,” Nayoung said, her voice teasing again, “I think you’ve done an exceptional job with Daikaiju. Your sequencing is impeccable. You’ve got a way of blending chaos with melody. It’s clever. Really clever.”

“Thank you,” Kraken replied, a warmth creeping into his voice. He paused, as if taking a moment to absorb her compliment. “Daikaiju’s different because... it’s me. Completely independent. I can do whatever I want with it, release music when I’m ready, on my own terms.”

Nayoung giggled. “So, basically, you’re saying you can release music at an almost uncontrollable, chaotic rate?”

Kraken laughed. “Pretty much. Like a wildfire—once it starts, it’s hard to stop.”

“Sounds like you’re enjoying the freedom,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.

“I am. It’s been liberating. No more pressure to fit into someone else’s vision or be perfect all the time. I get to mess up. I get to create without the fear of being judged for it. And it’s funny... the less ‘perfect’ I try to be, the more people seem to connect with the music.”

Nayoung’s heart softened at the vulnerability he was showing. “That’s because people can hear you now. The real you, not the version someone else wanted you to be.”

“Maybe,” Kraken replied quietly, almost to himself. Then, in a lighter tone, he added, “Alright, last question, detective Nayoung.”

“Wait, no,” she protested, “I get to ask the last question!” She couldn’t stop herself from grinning, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Fine, fine,” he said, playing along. “What’s your final inquiry, detective?”

She bit her lip, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “When’s the Daikaiju tour, and when are you coming to Seoul? I want to see you again.”

Kraken laughed—a deep, rich sound that sent a flutter through her chest. “Ah, that’s the question, huh?”

“Of course. I’m your biggest fan now,” she teased, her voice softening. “I think I deserve a VIP ticket, at least.”

“You’re more than a VIP,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone that made her pulse quicken. “I could visit Seoul anytime. You know that.”

“Hmm, well, I’m waiting,” Nayoung said playfully. “Just tell me when.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I’m packed. How does that sound?”

Nayoung’s smile widened. “It sounds like a plan. Just make sure you bring Daikaiju with you.”

“Oh, I’ll bring more than that,” he replied, his voice full of promise. “I’ll bring everything.”

Nayoung’s heart fluttered at the playfulness of his words, but there was an underlying sincerity that made her feel like this was more than just music. Kraken—no, Daikaiju—was stepping into a new chapter, one where he was fully himself. And she couldn’t wait to be a part of it

[babygirl-riley]

Oldies

You help your grand girls pick out Simon’s favorite flowers

Warnings: little tooth rotting love, Fluff, small smut, mention of simon’s past, angst (a lot of it), hint of dementia, major character death

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

Giggling and pattered feet ran across the hall. You knew that sound. You smiled as you turned around from the kitchen chair. Two small children looked up at you. “Nana we want to pick flowers for papa.” The youngest said, you seen the mix of your son and his wife into the children. Beautiful grandkids that you loved so dear.

“For papa,” You whispered looking up into the hallway that leads to different rooms. You looked back down. “Okay, his favorite flowers are coming out at the moment.”

Flowers. You both don’t even know how you got into the topic, the area could have been invaded by enemies at any time, and NOW was the time to talk about flowers. “Lovie is this the best time?” Ghost whispered looking through the scope.

You sighed standing next to him. “Marriage is next week.” Looking around your surroundings, you both were ordered into the Alps for recon on the Russians. Definitely not the time or place.

Ghost sighed shaking his head. “If we get home in time.”

“I’m serious,” You responded. “Mom has been on my fucking ass. What is your favorite flowers?”

Ghost adjusted himself and let out a long sigh. “Your mother,” He mumbled before sighing once more. “I always loved hibiscus. My mum would get excited when Tommy and I brought them in.” He briefly explained, making a quick look before looking back into scope.

It shocked you when he just threw that at you. He hadn’t opened up for a while and when he did it would be private. “Those are beautiful…”

“Those are beautiful Mels.” You said as she picked some of the hibiscus. She looked back at you with her beautiful brown eyes.

“Nana! Nana! Do you think papa would like these?” You turned slowly learning that your body is becoming frail with even a fast movement.

She held up a sunflower. You smiled nodding your head. “I think papa will like whatever you girls give him.”

They giggled as you led them into the kitchen bringing out a vase. “Let’s put them all into this yeah?” You asked bringing it to their level.

They carefully and slowly put the flowers in one by one. You smiled as their tiny hands went to work running to grab some ribbon and other craft related things. You let them decorate the vase as what they thought that fit into the decoration. You looked around and saw the painting that was covering a hole in the wall. Years ago that hole had formed there, hell before you even had your son.

Simon propped you up to his hips as he kissed you. It was full of love and need, it made your head dizzy. You both just bought the home and him stating that we should break it in made you rub your thighs.

“Fuck baby,” He whispered pushing your back into the wall. “All those pretty noises just for me.”

You nodded grinding on him. “Si-Stop teasing. I need you.”

Simon chuckled as he placed sloppy kisses on your neck, that you knew that would leave marks. “As you wish.” He mumbled. He rutted against you as you moaned and groaned. His teeth making marks on your neck.

As the clothes got off and he shoved his cock into you. It was a brutal pace, you both were fucking on the table, chair, and now against the wall. You started to pant and claw at his naked back. “Fuck fuck fuck.” Simon whispered picking up the pace.

“Yeah baby,” You panted grabbing his cheeks and kissing him hard. “I am almost there.” You whined.

Just like that he was hitting that fucking spot that made you see stars. Without even realizing how hard you threw your head back it slams right into the wall. The wall sunk in with your head. Simon stills and grabs at your face. “Lovie,” He asks with concern. You laughed and cackled as you turned your head to the wall. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He mumbled, chuckling as well checking your head.

You sighed and grabbed his cheeks again. Giving a small kiss. “We will fix it later.”

“Papa! Papa!” Yelled the youngest running to the hallway as the oldest was right behind her.

You followed the girls close behind hearing you bones creak by every step. “You do ya girls have,” The familiar British voice rang through the room. “For me?”

When you stepped in he had the girls on his lap and the case sitting on the near by coffee table. “Nana helped us!” The oldest said excitingly. He looked up at you smiling.

You could tell the old age was there. Wrinkles the hair that once was the dirty blonde now nearly white. “Did she now?”

You chuckled as you stepped into the room. “They needed the help.” You said shuffling your way to him.

The girls looked at both of you as you leaned down to kiss him. “Ew!” The screamed, hopping down and running out.

Simon chuckled as he looked up at you placing a hand on your cheek. The soft light came through the window, illuminating his brown eyes. “Never thought we would be here.” He whispered. “Grandkids.”

You smiled grabbing his hand to help him up. “No we did not huh.” When he stood up all the way, he still was tall as he was before, little less broad. He leaned down to give you a forehead kiss before walking pass you. When you turned to watch him, he wasn’t there. You panicked at first looking around. “Simon?” When you hurriedly walked around the house he was nowhere to be found. “Simon.” You eyes started to water.

“Mum?” You snapped your head to see your son.

“Oh sorry honey I can’t seem to find your father. I just talked to him. Have you seen him?” You said wiping the tears away.

Your son frowned. “Mum dad died almost 5 years ago.”

You frowned looking around. “No I just talked to him. I swear. The little ones gave him flowers and we picked them.” You started to explain.

Your son walked to you and placed a hand on your arm. “Mum Ellie and Melonie are much older now remember?”

You shook your head even more confused. “But…”

“Have you taken your meds?” Your son said as he asked away grabbing the pill schedule holder.

You stood there looking down the hall. You didn’t even realize it was dark out. You swore it was day time then You remembered Simon did pass away, after all the things he survived age got the best of him. He fell after trying to get up the stairs knocking his head. He was fine until he fell into a coma and slowly passed.

Soap and you were the only ones left from the Task Force. So when you called him to have him say his goodbyes to Simon he was there instantly. You watched as Johnny cried and told him about all the stories and adventures that they went on. You both laughed at some. Your kids said goodbyes to him as did the grandkids. You waited until it was time to unplug him, as his chest laid still. After that life became a blur.

“Mum.” you turned to see your son he has his features.

“I miss him.” You muttered, as you sobbed.

Your son came up to you and held you for a moment. Shushing your cries as you both stood there for a moment. “I bet dad does too.” he whispered holding back his tears.

You cried harder wishing that you both died together or you died first not wanting to have this heartache anymore. “Here come with me.” Your son said taking you to the living space.

He turned on the light and you stared at the chair he once sat in. “Dad told me that if he ever passed away, he knew you would be heartbroken.” He went to a radio and grabbed a disc putting it in.

You smiled a bit as he switched songs, knowing it was “Ghost’s Mixtape.” When Soap made it during the time in the force. Once the melody started to play your heart dropped. You looked at your son who smiled at you. “He taught me the little dance you guys would do when I was a baby.”

“My mum loved this song,” You looked over at Simon who had the disc that Soap gave him. You held your son that was cradled in a blanket. “Soap accidentally put this song into the mix.”

You giggled as he muttered the last word. After having your son, Simon softened a bit. He was at your side no matter what pampering you with kisses and praises. Saying “You are stronger than I lovie.” or “You look sexy as a mum.” And with you feeling under the weather he has been extra on that, especially when taking your son home just three weeks ago.

“Oh no is it some silly song like gummy bear?” You said rolling your eyes.

Simon snapped his head at you, offended look in his eyes. “Blood hell. Absolutely not,” The song came on with a soft beginning. The similar song that made your heart soften. “This…This was what my mum used to listen to when…when dad would be done with the beatings. She would turn it on to calm herself.” You stepped closer to him placing a hand on his cheek. These moments are rare for him. To speak freely about his past and bearing his heart out. So you try your best not to speak so he can get his thoughts out. “But when this played it brought me back to you, not at that time. You. It brought me to think how I never thought I could feel the way you make me feel y/n.”

You rubbed circles on his cheek, you just smiled tenderly at him. He grabbed your hand and led you to the center of the room. “What are you doing?” You giggled holding your son tighter.

Simon smiled down at you as he pressed you and your son close to his chest and rocked back and forth. You followed his lead. “I love you more than I can ever imagine.” He whispered placing his forehead against yours. “You have me a chance to be a father…to give my son a childhood.”

“Oh Simon,” You smiled placing a kiss on his lips. “I love you too Britain.”

[erisweekofficial]

Tonight we're delighted to highlight @jules-writes-stories 🧡

If you're looking for a truly exceptional Azris fic, you have to check out Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows. The writing is absolutely beautiful, and it strikes the perfect balance between hurt and comfort. Every detail feels so carefully crafted, from the portrayal of Eris and Azriel to each moment they share. 😭

Also if you are into myth retellings, we are begging you to read this Azris flavored Hades and Persephone retelling that she wrote for Azris week this year. 👀

And be sure to check out allll the fics on her masterlist!

Read on to learn what drew Jules to Eris and what the hounds would say if given buttons. 🐶

Give us a name for one of Eris's brothers!

Sylvan Vanserra is the youngest Vanserra (other than Lucien). He’s quick to laugh, never takes himself too seriously, and readers have called him a cinnamon roll, which is fair. Eris tried to shelter him and Lucien, so he’s less guarded than the other brothers, but don’t sleep on Syl. He definitely has fire in his blood.

Give us a name of his hounds!

Chunky Possum. But let me explain, lol. When I was drafting Just Enough Light, I named Eris’s hounds after (just a few) of my favorite Azris writers. They were meant to be place markers while I thought of original names. But the hounds liked their names, so I left them, and gave some of them back stories. Naming the hounds became a way to show my appreciation for a corner of the fandom that is dear to me. My favorite is Chunky, only because of his backstory. And yes, it will tug at your heartstrings. 

What do you think it was like trying to raise Eris when he was a child? 

Short answer: he was a little fire starter with a smart mouth. Being so brilliant, the fireling likely found ways around doing what he was told and bent the rules to suit his needs. Eris asked questions that stumped his teachers (sometimes on purpose and other times because he was clever and curious). He was full of mischief and a prankster. That said, he was probably under constant pressure to perform, making him highly competitive. I could see little Eris as being lonely, learning at a young age that attachments are liabilities and love must be earned through accolades. 

What drew you to Eris? 

I love monsters and for me, Eris Vanserra is one of the metaphorical monsters of this fandom. He’s both a scapegoat and a martyr. He’s sexy and fetishized: put on a pedestal as often as he's reviled and burned at the stake. I love how Eris can possess all these contradictions and still exist as a character with traits we all universally recognize. He’s interesting and I’m always left wanting to know more. 

Who do you think Eris would want in his inner circle, if he was given a chance to build one?

Lucien. His favorite brother is a clever fox with ties all over Prythian and I want (need) them to be close with an urgency that’s not normal. Nesta Archeron. Eris is canonically drawn to her power and who wouldn’t want Lady Death to have their back? Bonus for Eris: it would piss Cassian off. Lastly, nothing would bring Eris more joy than stealing Azriel from Rhys...for so many reasons. 

If Eris gave his dogs buttons to communicate, what would their options be?

If one wants Eris’s respect, they’ll have to earn it. And one way to do this is through his hounds because they are excellent judges of character. Eris believes that his smokehounds are likely more intelligent than most of the brutes he’s forced to associate with. No, he prefers not to give names– very demure, very mindful.  After meeting someone, the magical canines communicate their first impressions of said individual by pawing at certain buttons with ratings spanning from “burn them alive” to “lukewarm, might burn later” to  “that’s your cauldron blessed mate.” I wonder what the hounds would say about us… 

[saintsenara]

oooo as an unhinged ship, if it hasn’t come up before, hermione x regulus. (meaning book hermione and book regulus, not their fanon equivalents who we may safely assume can slip right into “good girl gone bad x unreasonably hot wealthy man” without trouble, and need no further consideration. idc about them. i like losers). what we know about regulus is minimal, but we can imagine for the sake of the bit that if he somehow survived, he just might have a little interest in SPEW, and canonically, hermione does go for a youngest son with fluctuating self esteem. regulus also loves making pinterest boards for his passions (which include domestic terrorism but all the same), while hermione is known to color code and decorate her study schedules. i’m curious to know your thoughts 👀 both crack-wise and more genuinely, as i love your analyses of how characters with severe divides could — or could not — reconcile their differences and overcome the obstacles.

(their biggest obstacle, of course, is harry, who bursts in on them at least three times a day to demand hermione explain why she went for the clearly less good looking brother. men are always like “i’m fighting demons” and the demons are unexplored bisexuality.)

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

while describing hermione's type as "youngest son with fluctuating self esteem" is apposite, regulus strikes me as someone as someone whose self esteem is sufficiently bulletproof that his issue is with a world which - as he sees it - doesn't respect how special and extraordinary he is, rather than feeling overlooked because he believes himself to be less special and less loved than those around him.

[hence signing his camp little note with his initials, assuming reading it will snatch voldemort's wig off and throw it across the room, when what actually happens is the dark lord doesn't even notice he's missing and undoubtedly thinks his name is reginald.]

would he enjoy being constantly nagged by hermione [which is how she expresses to those she loves that she loves them]? eh... i doubt it. although i am compelled by the crack potential of regulus joining spew for a quiet life, and helping the missus glitter-glue posters. the couple that crafts together stays together.

but what i actually think would be most interesting about these two - as i've also said in reference to shipping hermione with bellatrix - is that they have a couple of shared traits which could mesh very interestingly: an enormous capacity for loyalty and a slightly naive, slightly childlike tendency towards seeing what they want to see.

i've said this before, but hermione's astonishing loyalty is one of her most impressive traits - and contributes, in fact, far more to her role in the series than her intelligence. but it comes with the flip-side that she also - since her loyalty is directly intertwined with her inflexibility, which is her most fundamental trait, in both positive [she's resilient, logical, etc.] and negative [she's argumentative, narrow-minded, etc.] ways - has a slightly hagrid-ish tendency towards blind faith.

her inflexibility - especially the difficulty she has with considering multiple viewpoints - also contributes to her naivety. i do think it's striking, given the fanon tendency - gleaned from the films, which massively overplay this - for her to be portrayed as orders of magnitude more mature than harry and ron that she is, in many ways, the most child-like of the trio: harry begins deathly hallows by throwing away most of his school trunk, hermione takes her schoolbooks on the run as comfort items; hermione believes that she's overthrowing the institution of slavery at hogwarts because the hats she knits vanish overnight; the item left to her in dumbledore's will is a book of fairy stories; etc.

both of these - loyalty and naivety, with the positive and negative things each of them brings - is also the regulus special. he sacrifices his life in an act of absolutely breathtaking loyalty to kreacher - which is directly caused by the humiliation he feels over his blind faith in voldemort being revealed to be misguided, and, specifically, is caused by the realisation that his initial view of voldemort as someone who wanted to bump off all the mudbloods and let pureblood families rule as oligarchs over a society which was, otherwise, fundamentally unchanged in terms of social structure etc. was extraordinarily naive. the dark lord wants to live forever, and he doesn't give a fuck who gets hurt on the way.

i do think there could be something quite compelling about the two of them either having to untangle their fairly rigid approaches to life - and how much of a knock that might be to their self esteem. i also think there's something to be said for each of them seeing in the other what they want to see, and being completely unwilling to do otherwise.

you are correct to note that harry would be gagged.

[r0guedr0id]

Count Dooku x Dressmaker Fem Reader

One shot | 3368 words | Smut & Romance | Age Gap

A/N: Bestie @dookuswifey has a lot of big feelings about the Old Man, so I had to write here a little treat using The Prompt List.

Prompts:

11. "Spend the night with me." 28. "Each of my thoughts about you are important." 34. "I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional." 38. "I'll let you do anything if you just touch me now."

It'd been some time since you arrived in Serenno to work as a tailor. Fresh out from the University of Naboo, you caught the eye of the person in charge of looking for new personnel for the palace. They noticed the love and care you put into each of your designs and your attention to detail and immediately contacted your teacher about an open position in the palace. You didn't expect an offer like that at all, humble as you were about your craft. But the last thing you thought was that you would be serving the one and only Count Dooku.

He had been a Jedi and was a respected politician and aristocrat. Those were the things you knew about him before flying to your new planet.  In his public appearances, he was always elegant and well-spoken, and maybe you thought he was actually a very attractive man. But from what you knew, you would be just one of the numerous tailors and seamstresses working for him. You probably won't meet him ever.

At your arrival, your anxiety about fitting in with the other personnel of the palace spiked, but everyone was so nice to you. Being the youngest on the staff, soon you felt welcomed and everyone tried to help you. The palace was indeed beautiful and your quarters were quite decent for a servant, with lots of natural light and a soft bed. You wondered how your working day would look while unpacking your belongings.

The next day, a protocol droid showed up at your door to walk you to your workshop. It was a huge room with lots of sewing machines. Some of your coworkers were already starting with the sewing projects they had in hand. Then the droid showed you where everything you needed was, and you could admire the fine materials you would be working with. In the centre of the room, there was a circular platform surrounded by ornate mirrors to make the fittings. Everything looked classy and expensive there, from the wood flooring to the chandelier. Finally, you were shown to your personal workstation, and the droid went through every tool there and the sewing patterns that were most used. You also noticed a huge sewing mannequin that was obviously custom-made, since it wasn't the standard men’s one. The droid gave you a notebook with a thorough compilation of measurements and sketches from the previous dressmaker. It told you they had to retire due to arthritis and you felt bad for them since they looked like an organised person who had put a lot of thought into their craft.

The droid bowed to you and excused itself after explaining everything everything you asked, and shortly you were left on your own. You introduced yourself to the seamstresses and explored a bit on your own until a different droid came to you.

"Master Dooku requests your presence in the breakfast room." Your blood froze inside your veins, absolutely not expecting that. Checking your hair in one of the mirrors, you rapidly gathered pins, measuring tape and the notebook the previous tailor left for you. But for your confusion, the droid said that such tools won't be needed. You felt like throwing up while you followed it through the quiet corridors under the morning light.

The holos didn't do him justice, it was your first thought entering the room. The was sitting with a display of various choices of breakfast, the place service being the most delicate you had ever seen. His gorgeous side profile looked godly illuminated by the morning, and you had to actively hide your admiration for your new employer. He left the holopad he was reading when he noticed you, and stood up to his full height to receive you.

"Good morning young lady, it's a pleasure to have someone of your skill joining my team." His voice was deep and he had constant eye contact with you. You thought you'd break under his gaze like one of the delicate glasses on the table.

"The pleasure is mine, Count Dooku. I'm honoured to have joined the palace staff." You didn't know how you had put together so many words, but he nodded satisfied with your answer.

"Please, sit with me and serve yourself." He indicated with a broad hand. "Coffee or tea?" 

"I actually prefer hot cocoa, thank you." Your brain must had glitched, because how the hell you were commenting on your personal preferences to an aristocrat who happened to be your boss? You started to panic, but he surprised you with a belly laugh.

"Our new dressmaker has a sweet tooth." And someone in the way he said it made you feel things you shouldn't about your boss. A droid appeared with a actual pot of fresh hot cocoa for you and you thanked it thoroughly, enjoying the warm beverage in silence while your heart was beating like a crazy horse.

"Now that we've eaten, let's talk about your job requirements." He said after finishing his breakfast, cleaning his moustache with a cloth napkin. You listened attentively while he communicated to you his main preferences and necessities regarding his wardrobe. You couldn't stop wondering about why his valet wasn't the person meeting you for this, but maybe Count Dooku was the kind of man that wanted to attend to all his business personally. He definitely looked like that.

He needed a new cape, three tunics and a special outfit for the upcoming Life Day gala, so you will be busy. He told you that he trusted your fabric choices and that you would be able to comment with his valet his preferred silhouettes and the dress code of the gala.

"Let me walk you to the workshop." He offered after both of you were down commenting on the specifics of your job. In your stroll until there, he commented on some architectural facts that you found really interesting. 

"Again, it's a pleasure to have such a skilled young woman as my personal dressmaker." You had been guessing it by now, but he had made it clear. Anyone had told you before accepting the job there you'll be his personal tailor. Maybe they thought that you could be intimidated by it, you couldn't know. 

"The pleasure is mine sir, I hope my work fulfils your likes and needs." You responded politely in a small voice. Then to your surprise, Count Dooku kissed your hand as a farewell, and left you at the door in a twirl of his cape.

What had just happened? and why was your heart beating that fast?

The first fitting

You had busted your ass to create something incredible to Count Dooku and now the first fiting was here. You haven't seen him since your breakfast together, but maybe it was for the better. The man had the capacity to make you feel weak on the knees and you needed a cold head to fulfil this project. The reality was that you recalled that first encounter every day, sighing like a teenager and imagining the big mannequin was him. Pathetic, you thought.

But the day arrived and he was there in his full glory. The other tailors and seamstress were on their time off and it was just the two of you. He smiled widely at your sight and then stepped on the room. You first showed him the cape and the tunics, the less complicated projects, and he was delighted with your progress. 

"You're working at an amazing pace young lady, I hope you're not overdoing it though." He commented, a frown of worry adorning his forehead. You laughed tired, it was true you had been working extra hard.

"Don't worry about me sir, my only goal is to have your suit in time, the rest is important."

"Each of my thoughts about you are important," he responded in a commanding, but gentle voice. You stopped what you were doing absolutely stunned. You knew you shouldn't be looking at him like that but you had turned to stone. He then cleared his throat. "What I mean is that I care for your well-being and I wouldn't want you overworking yourself." His clarification didn't make much to stop your crazy heart and you didn't know how to act now.

"That's very kind of you, sir." You responded submissively, not looking at him in the eye. His presence was everywhere, but it was only going to get worse. Your throat was dry. "Could you try your suit now sir?" Your petition came in the smallest voice, but he nodded and went up the fitting platform obediently.

You were actively trying not to touch him too much, but Maker, you were his tailor. From the expanse of his chest to his strong arms you started to learn every part of his clothed body so well. You could see your reflection and your cheekbones were burning. He now was silent and observed you working around. The platform made you even tinier next to him, and that was exactly how you felt.

"Do you like it, sir?" You asked shyly after the full suit was finally on display over his broad body. 

"Is perfect dear," he responded turning around to admire your design. By now all your face was a violent red, but it became even worse "Good job." Just the two words of praise made you melt and you were sure right now he had noticed.

"I'm happy to serve you in any way I can, sir," you responded, and you'd swear you saw his gaze darkening for a moment.

"I'll just need you to adjust the design to be able to hang my sabre, if that is okay." He asked with a deeper voice than before.

"Of course! Just tell me where." You responded, eager to improve your design to his needs. To fulfil the strong need you felt to please this man. 

What happened next just made your brain glitch. Dooku grabbed your hand and slowly, positioned it in the part of his hip where he preferred his lightsaber to be. Your mouth went dry. 

"There." He indicated, and you nodded flustered, running to make annotations to position the holster. Your hand burnt.

While you did so, he redressed and your firing session was over.

"I can have the design change in one week."

"Don't overwork yourself though." He was adjusting his cape but wasn't getting it well so you helped with it standing on your tippy toes.

"Thanks, dear," his gaze was fixated on you, between his lashes his pupils won't stop registering your little hands going over the cape clasp.

Ready to go sir, is there something more you need?" Your big doe eyes are so eager to help that you have been messing with Count Dookz that's the only explanation to his petition.

"Spend the night with me," he blurted and you opened your mouth in disbelief. Had you heard wrong?  "I mean, the gala, would you accompany me, miss?" He clarified, and you sighed in relief because it couldn't be what you first thought.

"I can't see how you would want to be accompanied by a plain dressmaker sir, even though I'll accompany you if that's your wish." You responded in your most diplomatic way, trying to not scream internally. "Nevertheless, I don't have a gown to wear to such an event." Your pout made Dooku's heart shiver and that's the only explanation for why he caressed your cheek next for a brief moment.

"Don't worry about that, darling." And after kissing your hand like he did the first time, he disappeared followed by his cape.

You had to take the rest of your day free to assimilate what had just happened between both of you.

The second fitting

To say you were nervous was the understatement of the cycle. As expected, you didn’t listen to him and busted your ass to create the perfect suit. That day, you even did your hair in a fancier updo and put your favourite dress on. Both of you had been coinciding briefly here and there, but in the end, you were staff so your routines were so different. He’d always smile at you during those encounters and even stop a moment even though he had important meetings to attend.  

You were daydreaming looking through your room’s window, thinking about your next fitting session with him, when you saw it. You knew he had been a Jedi and you talked about his sabre, but you didn’t actually think he engaged in combat. That was until that day, your jaw dropped at the sight of Count Dooku training in the gardens with the sabre. The vision was magnetic. He looked so agile and strong going through the different feints he was practising. You noticed he was wearing one of the tunics you had designed for him. The garment fit him like a glove. You were mesmerized by the sight until you noticed he had stopped working out. And he was looking in your direction. It was impossible that he could see you in this distance but you felt weird, like he was just there with you. With your heartbeat spiking, you moved away from the window and continued preparing yourself for the day.

It was still soon in the morning when the protocol droid announced that Coun Dooku would be coming for his second fitting session that afternoon. You swallowed hard, eager to have a private moment with him again and even realized your perfume. A part of you felt silly because why an aristocrat would want to mess with you? But on the other hand, under his gaze, it was the first time you had felt truly seen. And then it was that strange moment this morning. You didn’t want to give it more thought, but it had felt weirdly intimate.

The afternoon arrived and your coworkers left and you started getting more and more nervous until the door finally opened.

“It’s nice to see you again young lady.” He had changed from the tunic you saw him with this morning and smelled incredible. You stood immediately and bowed in respect, but your hands were already trembling slightly.

“Welcome to the workshop sir. Shall we start the fitting?” He then eyed you from head to toe lazily, not moving an inch from where he was standing. The thing was that you were eager to have your hands all over him, even though it was supposed to be in a professional way.

“I can’t wait,” he responded in a raspy voice, and you wondered for one second if he was waiting for you to touch him too, but rapidly discarded that thought. This was strictly a professional physical touch and Count Dooku was just being nice. He went up the round platform and you rushed to get the suit and the pins. But this time, he wasn’t undressing and you looked at him quizically for a moment. 

“Would you allow me, sir?” You asked, pointing at his cape, and he nodded. On your tiptoes, you found the clasp, and with the corner of your eye, you saw the reflection of you both and thought how good you looked together.

“Have you thought about my invitation, dear?” He asked as if he could read your mind. Moving away, you folded carefully the heavy cape and put it on a chair.

“I don’t have anything to wear to an event like that,” you responded carefully, turning again to face him. 

“I’ll have the most beautiful dress crafted for you, sweet girl.” 

Your eyes opened widely and your head started spiralling. Did he really want to bring you to the Gala as his companion? Why? You were a girl from a good Nabooian family, but nothing worthy of an aristocrat like him. While your brain was working on overdrive, he had been removing his tunic and was now only in a high-neck undershirt. You swallowed hard and it took all the self-restraint in yourself to not look at him like the eye candy he was.

“Why me?” You asked finally, your gaze fixated on your task of helping him with his new tunic. It fitted him perfectly, and you would be proud if it wasn't for the incessant pounding of your heart. Next, you went to grab the new belt to close his tunic and hang the lightsaber, trying to remain professional at all times. You offered it to him, but he just lifted his arms, indicating that he wanted you to put it. 

“You have caught my eye, little lady.” You blushed incapable of looking at him. It wasn’t anything you already knew, but hearing it was a different deal.

“Can I put your belt now, sir?” You asked approximating him, feeling hotter and hotter. Count Dooku leaned over your shoulder and you felt his hot breath when he spoke.

"I'll let you do anything if you just touch me now." You actually squeaked at his words. Your eyes finally met his and they were dark and inviting, but you had a job to do. Putting your arms around his waist, you adjusted the new belt, but this time you didn’t avoid touching him but the contrary. Then, with trembling hands, you adjusted the tunic around it. Your hands started to travel to his ample chest and you looked at him in search of reassurance. He was looking at you with his mouth agape, eyes semi-opened and the most adoring look. It was the yes you needed before letting your hands roam through the expanse of his chest and shoulders. It was adorable how he let a deep sigh leave his lips as if he had been waiting for this as much as you. His desire fueled yours and made you feel bold, hands travelling south to the new belt again.

“I think everything fits well sir, do you feel comfortable?” You asked, keeping the illusion of professionalism. “Is the belt appropriate for your lightsaber?” With doe eyes, you looked at him while tugging at the belt casually, when you noticed how hard he was and your jaw dropped.

“To be honest, my pants are feeling a bit tight miss.” He purred and your mouth went completely dry. 

“Let me fix that for you, sir,” and you actually put the little act of pretending you were adjusting his pants, even dropping to your knees. You could see his Adam’s apple move when he swallowed, his gaze not leaving yours for a moment. “I think I’ve found the problem,” you cooed and slowly stood up again caressing his outer thighs while doing it.

“Oh, yeah? And was is it dearn?”

You tilted your head and looked through your long lashes coquettish. Your little hands travelled again to find the waistband of his pants. Maker, he was even harder.

“The problem is…” You started tracing patterns with your thumbs over his hipbones. "I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional, Mr Dooku."

Your boss groaned and all hell broke loose. In a moment, he had manhandled you into the ample pattern table. He was nestled between your tights, your skirt hiked up and he looked so manly while needy over you.

“Is this what you want, little one?” He asked while kissing that soft spot behind your ear.

“Yes, oh yes, sir.·

Thanks to the Maker, the old piece of furniture was sturdy enough to endure the rest of the passionate fitting session.

You ended up accompanying Count Dooku to the Life Day gala, both of you looking radiant together in your tailor-made garments. All the eyes were on you, but you only could see the gorgeous man who was holding your arm the entire soiree. When the first notes of music started, he was fast to bow and ask you a dance, and you complied happily. That was only the first of the many events you would attend together. For every one of them, you would design the most amazing suit and he would gift you the prettiest gown. Everyone would talk behind your back, but the thing was you only had eyes for each other.

[doublel27]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

So last Wednesday @welcometololaland tagged me in WIP Wednesday looking for Tarlos and it’s now the following Thursday and this is the first thing I have written for them in ages but…

“God, he’s a natural huh?”

Carlos glances up from the platter he has adjusted no less than four times to his sister. He follows her gaze to TK who has her youngest on his shoulder, safely cradled, as he crafts some sort of story for her four year old twins. Looking at TK always takes his breath away. His husband, and what a miracle it is to have that title attached to this man, is practically glowing in the setting sunlight. His smile stretches wide across his face and he leans back a little to let out a joyous laugh at something one of their nephews said.

Their conversation continues, a secret across the yard that is muffled by the family that they’ve co-constructed over the last several years. To his left, Owen is explaining to his mother the health benefits of whatever he’s adding to the food table while she hums rather than say anything uncharitable. The sound of rapid spanish of the sprawling Reyes family mingles with the 126’s boisterous argument over something Mateo has said.

“Carlitos, that man has a talent. You don’t even have to train him into fatherhood.”

The guilt at knowing TK wants fatherhood desperately and is amazingly suited for it curls inside his belly, low and tugging.

“You know, just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean it has to be your whole life,” Owen says out of nowhere, jumping in and attempting to be helpful, Carlos is sure. “I mean, working with kids is a wonderful skill that both TK and Carlos have that really assists on some of our tougher calls.”

I don’t know where this is going specifically but …here.

Unsure who to tag and it’s past Wednesday so count this as an open tag.

[frootloopscos]

Day One? Done and Done!

As the the soft music from Trein's computer played (Y/N) let out a quiet sigh of relief as they watched each kid slowly fall asleep. Ortho putting himself in charging mode after seeing everyone else asleep. They looked over to Trein with a small smile, "is it always this hectic?" They asked, Trein exhaled through his nose with a knowledgeable nod. "Yes, though that is how the youngest room usually is. You should be getting a bit of a break tomorrow with Crewel's room." (Y/N) nods at this information. "Thank you, is there anything I can do while they nap?"

Trein gave them a small job of refilling the kid's water bottles outside in the hall at the fountain and they were doing just that, holding Deuce's clear blue water bottle under the tap when they felt someone pull on the bottom of their shirt. They moved the bottle away from the water and looked behind them as they put the lid on it to see a familiar looking boy with Silver hair and lilac eyes. "Oh hello there, Silver right?" They asked bending down slightly to his height. The small boy nods while rubbing his eye, "is there something I can help you with bud?" Silver nods again and points to the water fountain.

Turning to the fountain (Y/N) realizes and nods, "was I in your way? Sorry about that!" They said as they stepped to the side allowing him to get a drink before he gave them a gap toothed smile and waved before going back to where (Y/N) assumed was Crewel's room. (Y/N) finished filling the water bottles before going back into Trein's room, "I'm back." They said quietly as to not wake up the sleeping kids. Trein nods and motions for them to put the bottles back at the kid's tables. "After nap time we'll have arts and crafts as parents and guardians come to pick them up."

(Y/N) nods "alright, what's the project they'll be doing?" They asked tilting their head slightly. "A Halloween project." Trein said and explained how using two marbles with some white paint in a pencil box with a black cut out of a person they can make mummies. "Awe that sounds so cute." (Y/N) said as they and Trein began to cut out the outlines for later. Making sure there was a few with small points where the ears would be and a few with different animal shaped ears on the top of the head for a bit of diversity.

——

Around thirty minutes after the two adults had finished the cut outs, the kids began to wake up, Ortho being the first as he had an internal clock that he had set for him to wake up. (Y/N) clapped their hands together and warned the kids to close their eyes before they turned on the light. "Alright it's time for Art! Let's sit down at our tables as Mr. Trein goes around and gives you a cut out." They said, the kids all answer in their own ways before sitting down as Trein goes around allowing the kids to choose what outline they want to use.

Once they all had an outline, (Y/N) demonstrated what the art project was going to be, "so you take your outline," they said holding up a cut out of a person with cat-like ears on top of the head. "And put it in the box, then Mr. Trein or I will come and put the paint marbles in the box with it, then you shake it up!" They said as they shook the box watching the kids all smile at the motion. "And when you open it, it's a mummy!" They said with a grin showing the kids their new mummified cat person.

As they did their projects, one by one parents and guardians came to pick them up. Epel, Jack, Deuce, Ortho, Ace, the only one left was Sebek. (Y/N)'s brows furrowed and they knelt down to him, "who's picking you up today bud?" They asked, Sebek looked to them and puffed out his chest, "my grandpa!" He said with a sharp-toothed grin, "he's so cool Mx. (Y/N)! He was a gen gen..." he paused, "Mr Trein what's the word again?" He asked looking to the older male. "General," Trein said as he was packing up his papers and other things for the day. "Yeah a genital!" Sebek said turning back to (Y/N), their eyes widen slightly as they snort, "general," they correct him lightly. "That's what I said, Genital!" Sebek said and began to " march " around the room with a grin on his face.

(Y/N) smiled, 'at least he's happy,' they thought to themself as they watched him. Soon enough a knock was heard and the door opened. "Grandpa!" Sebek yelled before running over and hugging the male who walked in, (Y/N) could see the resemblance between the two. "Hi there, I'm (Y/N), the newest helper here at the daycare." They said introducing themself to the male, "Baul, nice to meet you." He said shaking their hand, "you ready to go little soldier?" He asked looking to Sebek. The boy nods and takes his hand, "bye Mx. (Y/N)!" He said before leaving.

——

(Y/N) sighed as they sat in their car, turning on their Bluetooth and going to their favorite song before driving out of the parking lot. Feeling like they deserved something after the day, they drove though the TwstDonnalds and got some food before finally driving home. After exiting and locking their car they walked up to their door and unlocked it, "Grim I'm home!" They said calling to their familiar.

Claws on wood could be heard as the cat ran through the house and to the human, "you were gone forever!" The cat yelled as he flew up to their face, his blue eyes staring into their own (e/c) ones. "I'm sorry, but you get to come with tomorrow." They said as they are a fry. "I do?!" He yelled now excitedly grabbing for their TwstDonnalds bag. "Yes, you do, and stop that or you won't get any!" They said raising the bag and going to the counter.

Together the two ate before (Y/N) took a shower and snuggled into their bed with the cat. Hugging him close to them with a smile as they closed their eyes and fell asleep.

————-

YA'LL AGAIN IM SO SORRY I'VE BEEN BUSY WITH COLLEGE BUT HERES A LONGER CHAPTER FOR YOU (yes I know Halloween was yesterday I'm sorry  😭)

Word count: 1083

Published to wattpad: Nov. 1st, 2023

Published to tumblr: Feb. 1st, 2024

Edited: n/a

[dawnagustd]

big deal || myg

➛ title: Big Deal ➛ pairing: (non romantic) idol!yoongi x reader; ft. ot7 ➛ genre: mature rated comedy? ➛ summary: “It’s never a big deal until it becomes your big deal,” Yoongi learns. ➛ rating: 18+ ➛ word count: 1.3k ➛ warnings: strong language | attempted and failed blackmailing (like it was pointless lol) | c*cks… lots of c*cks being discussed; specifically Bangtan c*ck | ot7 chaos | this is a complete unedited shit show | open ending just in case | i think that’s all ➛ author’s note: Hi! It’s been a long ass time. I’m so nervous lol. Anyway, this is for @hobeemin​ & @sweetestofchaos​ and it has everything to do with this Discord emoji. This is the first completed work I’ve written in months, so please be kind lol. I know it’s bad(it’s supposed to be) and I’m not all too comfortable writing idol aus but I had a ball writing it so just let me have this moment🤣. Also, I don’t want to promise a part 2 but... man I like the thought of mad whiny Yoongi.

“Mine doesn’t even look like that! Guys, look at how thick and short it is.”

Yoongi does an internal eye roll as Jimin lets out another dramatic cry. All this over some damn Discord emojis. Maybe he’s just too old for this shit because he doesn’t see the big deal. At least he’s not the only one.

“It isn’t that deep,” Seokjin states, shoving some ramen in his mouth.

“That’s what Jimin’s girl said,” Jungkook blurts out in a small voice.

He can see Jimin giving them a nasty glare through the monitor screen. It’s just his pride. He feels like the creator of these Bangtan-style Discord emojis should have added a little more length. Yoongi will not deny or confirm whether or not they should have. Still, he can’t help but chuckle as Jimin tries to convince everyone about the truth they already know of.

“Yeah, Jimin. It’s not that serious,” Namjoon chimes in.

He’s taken a seat on the couch, bored with the big discovery they made just a few minutes ago. Someone approached and told them about a website dedicated to Discord emojis. Apparently, a creator’s newest NSFW uploads are BTS-inspired superhero cocks. And well, they just had to see it to believe it.

“Easy for you guys to say. Your cocks are perfect!”

“Well, thanks Jimin,” Jungkook laughs.

“Shut up! You know what I meant.”

He’s not lying, though. This is pure talent. The amount of effort and detail you put into the craft doesn’t go unnoticed. No wonder everyone’s talking about this.

“Jimin, why don’t you just contact the creator? The info is in their bio,” Hoseok suggests.

Jimin and Taehyung begin searching for your number together, both being displeased with their results. While they bicker, Yoongi starts going through the rest of the content.

“And what does yours look like, hm?” Jungkook teases.

Yoongi turns to the youngest member and shrugs. “Don’t know. Didn’t look.”

He returns to scrolling, but Jungkook snatches the mouse out of his hand.

“Well, let’s see,” Jungkook insists. He returns to the newest uploads and looks through the members until he finds the Suga-Man emoji.

“I don’t care about that shit. I know what my dick looks like—”

When Yoongi sees his emoji, he nearly knocks Jungkook to the floor while he tries to regain control of the mouse. He cannot believe his eyes. It’s nothing like the real thing at all. Yoongi’s appalled.

“Where are my details?!”

He catches his outburst seconds after it is too late. All of the members heard him cry out due to the distasteful site. He looks over at Seokjin.

“They forgot some stuff,” he repeats.

“Okay.”

His mouth drops at Seokjin’s lack of empathy. 

“Well, I must be the least favorite member,” Yoongi concludes.

“Dude, we don’t talk like that. Remember?”

“Then explain why mine is so plain?!”

Seokjin sighs. “I’ll give you your own advice, bro. It’s not that serious.”

But it is. His emoji dick looks so basic. He has layers that make him unique too. This is so embarrassing.

“Jimin, I don’t think you’re supposed to call the number,” Taehyung shouts, trying to chase down a frantic Jimin.

They’ve somehow managed to find your Instagram and your business number. Jimin couldn’t wait for a second to dial the digits and speak with you, and neither can he.

When Jimin comes beside him for protection from Taehyung, Yoongi grabs the phone and instantly hears it ringing. He starts tapping the desk impatiently, ignoring Jimin’s wails and pleas. He’ll give him the phone after he’s done so he can whine, but this is urgent. You need to make the necessary changes to his emoji immediately or take it down completely. 

If you don’t… Well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.

Just when he believes it’ll go to voicemail, someone answers the phone. They introduce themselves as the creator and ask how they may insist. Yoongi introduces himself also, and after 5 minutes of back and forth because you thought you were getting pranked, he FaceTimes you.

“Woah. It is you,” you gasp. “All of you.”

“Yeah. Anyway, back to our discussion.”

You blink your eyes as if you’re snapping out of a trance, then look directly at Yoongi.

“Sorry, what were you saying? I wasn’t listening because I thought you were fucking with me,” you admit.

With a groan, Yoongi repeats himself.

“Those emojis you made, the Bangtan Super Cock set. It’s inaccurate.”

“No, it’s not,” you deny.

The other members are summoned by Namjoon for practice, and Yoongi waves, signaling he’ll be following shortly.

“Oh, hell yeah it is,” he scoffs.

“How so?”

Yoongi can hear mischief in your voice. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knows how this goes.

“Look, all I’m saying is mine has no texture or detail. It’s boring and looks nothing like the real thing.”

Your giggles have him both annoyed and amused because you’re actually kind of cute. You’re definitely not someone he’d suspect to be making these types of things.

“What texture or details did I neglect to add, Suga-Man?”

“Cut the shit,” he orders, but you continue to tease. 

He’s thankful the others are out of here because he’d never hear the end of this.

“Can you just add something to make it look less sleek?” 

“No,” you cackle. “Why would I do that?”

“Because—”

He almost slips up, but he catches himself.

“Look, just do it or I’ll sue you,” he threatens.

“You can’t do that.”

“I can try.”

There is more laughter on your end of the line before you eventually stop and tilt your head.

“Why does it matter so much?” you ask. “I mean… It must be serious if you called this number. No one calls this number. I’m just a small content creator.”

You make it seem like your work isn’t mind blowing. He wouldn’t know where to start, and yet you have hundreds of emojis created, and they’re free. But he can’t go on like this. Not when he knows there’s a misrepresentation of his cock going around. No way.

“Just add some veins, and that’ll do,” he mutters.

Once again, you giggle.

“Nope. My creations come from my mind, and that is what my brain told me to draw.”

“You hate me, don’t you?”

“Of course not,” you assure. “You’re my bias.”

“Then add the effects and make me look good!”

“It doesn’t work like that,” you argue. 

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose and tries his best to work on an effective strategy.

“I’ll pay you,” he offers, but you refuse.

“I’m good.”

Silence follows, and you both are just staring at each other at this point. Time is winding down, and Namjoon will come looking for him in a minute. The longer he stays on this call, the bigger the risk he has of getting caught. He’s already playing a dangerous game. You could be recording all of this, and he wouldn’t know until it’s slapping him in the face. This really wasn’t worth getting flustered over now that he thinks about it.

“Why are you so passionate about this?” you ask. He can hear the genuine curiosity in your tone, so he answers truthfully.

“My cock isn’t boring,” he repeats. “It’s not average.”

A long sigh travels past your semi-parted lips as you lean forward, getting closer to the screen. Damn, you aren’t just cute. You’re hot. Now he’s definitely embarrassed. 

Your smirk has him thinking you’ll show pity but looks can be very deceiving he’ll learn. You end the call with a challenge.

“Prove it.”

Yoongi sits there until the members physically force him to come practice. He never mentions what happened on that phone call, but best believe, it’s still lingering in his mind.

[lesbianlotties]

🎻 for Wenclair

🎻 you keep asking if your practicing is bothering me but honestly I'm so swept away. play something for me. haha I mean freebird not a like, romantic song, that would be, wild

“If you want me to practice elsewhere, you should just say it, Enid,” Wednesday said without even looking up from her cello.

“What?” Enid blurted out, jumping a little on her place on her bed and dropping the book she had been pretending to read.

“You have been staring for the last eight minutes,” Wednesday said, finally looking up at Enid with her usual expressionless face. “I assumed it meant you are vexed about me playing cello in our room.”

“Vexed? No,” Enid shook her head but she seemed to be in a little bit of a daze. “I was just… wondering,” she shrugged.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes, almost imperceptibly, deep in thought. She was considered simply going back to her practice, but some part of her, a begrudgingly tamed part of her that could admit to appreciating Enid’s existence in her life, sighed.”Wondering what, Enid?” Wednesday pressed.

“Um,” Enid stuttered. Her eyes were wide and she kept playing with her hands. She had no idea how to tell Wednesday that she wasn’t annoyed by her playing cello in the room but quite the opposite. She was so enamored that despite usually being a proud romantic, she was almost embarrassed by her own swooning at Wednesday’s sad cello melodies. “I was wondering if I could request a song,” Enid said, giving Wednesday her best and brightest fake smile.

“What’s your request?” Wednesday asked. Enid had expected her to look irritated at the interruption, but Wednesday looked genuinely curious. The problem was that there was not a single rational thought passing through Enid’s lovesick mind.

“Baby shark?” Enid blurted out, grimacing as she said it.

“I have gone swimming with sharks before. They aren’t as half as scary as modern media suggests and most of them cowered away from me. But I can tell you there is not a specific song included, not even with the youngest of them,” Wednesday explained patiently, unknowingly making Enid fall even harder for her.

Enid chuckled, “My bad. I just, um, I’m trying to think of something cool, you know? I wouldn’t ask you to play a lame, sickeningly sweet romantic song for me.” She kept nervously laughing and avoiding Wednesday’s eyes and then she added, “Like, that would be totally crazy, right? You would totally kill me with your cello… right?”

There was a long pause that almost made Enid jump off their balcony.

“I blame my criminally sentimental father for this knowledge but,” Wednesday said and shifted her hold on the instrument. She had a fascinating look on her face that was close to a smug smile as she said, “Some romantic musical pieces are extremely well crafted and compelling to play. I have mastered all that I’ve deemed worthy.”

As soon as Wednesday played the first note of a song, she was interrupted by a loud gasp from Enid, who leaped from her bed to perch herself on the edge of Wednesday’s bed to be closer to her to listen to this extraordinary moment.

“You would do that?! For me?!” Enid exclaimed with a high-pitched voice and accidentally left all her hesitation and discretion behind on the other side of the room.

Wednesday frowned at her. She very much scowled at the way Enid had grown comfortable enough with her to take a seat on her bed. But then Wednesday looked down at the instrument in her arms and prepared to restart the song. First, she said, “I thought by now you had figured out I would do anything for you.”

She played the first note of the song…

“OhmygodWednesdaythatwasso-”

“Enid!”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be quiet now, I promise!”

[neoyi]

...Yeah. Okay.

Um.

I wasn't expecting Birth By Sleep to open up with a shady dude carrying a corpse around (probably to dispose of it in Destiny Island's sparkling clean ocean.)

I think I'm now witness to a crime scene.

I got more Birth By Sleep ramblings under the "Keep Reading."

BBS' introduction follows the same trend as the first Kingdom Hearts by introducing its central cast and getting their personalities established from the get go. I always enjoy these prologue moments because the games perfectly capture who these guys are and what they mean to each other.

I like the way Terra and Aqua - oldest of the trio - ruffle Ven's hair because the latter is the youngest. I like Ven's precocious nature and eagerness to match the physical and mental qualities of his older peers, whilst getting across his rookie childishness. Aqua is clearly the heart of the team, crafting their friendship charms and pontificating on their bond, and Terra is... there.

Okay, fair, subdued personality notwithstanding, Terra's story (whom I've chosen to play first) is not without struggle. I don't know if the darkness inside of him was inherited from birth or a byproduct of something that happened off-camera, but it's clearly been with him for some time. I've grown accustomed to every character in the game spouting the "darkness (or light) in your heart" that I mostly took it metaphorically or at least, metaphysically, so Terra literally being seeped in darkness felt like it came out of nowhere. But literally, light poured out of Kingdom Hearts (the actual, metaphysical door, not the game title) and killed off Heartless Ansem in the first game, so well, of course there would be physical manifestations of darkness lurking about. I think my brain isn't used to a pre-Heartless world. I mean, what the hell are the Unversed? I'm going to assume the game's going to tell us, but like, are they physical manifestation of darkness as much as the Heartless represents soullessness? I've only marginally spoiled myself on BBS' (more or less the grander, spoiler-heavy narrative, and even then, not a whole lot), so I'm curious if they're ever going to explain how Terra ended up with a power that he has to learn to control lest it'd consume him.

Alright, I do think it's inherently funny that Obvious Evil Looking Guy With the Evil Name Who Is Pro-Team Darkness, is able to put doubt into Terra's heart on whether said darkness is anything to be ashamed of. But to the game's credit, Xehanort is not only a Master Keyblade wielder, he's a personal companion to Terra's mentor, Eraqus. It would make sense that he wouldn't distrust this man. It's also pretty evident Terra already feels raw from losing the Mark of Mastery test because he has trouble controlling his Forbidden Powers. One can't help but wonder if this was a criticism he's had to endure his entire life, especially from a teacher who has been a father figure to him growing up. Hearing someone reassure him that his abilities are what makes him special and has the potential to be properly channeled sounds refreshing to a guy who probably has spent years being told to suppress it, and thus, alienate his very existence.

I can't believe they put Fortune Street into this game. BBS all but stresses that you should play Command Board in order to get more... commands. The latter governs your moves during battle. The more you play, the quicker you can level up your abilities as well as earn new ones. I've been told this has the potential to absolutely break the game if you keep playing, since the probability of scoring incredibly powerful Commands is well within possibility as early as the first world. This is all optional. It's a dang mini-game, albeit one with far greater use to the overall game than most. I'm addicted. I can't stop playing this dumb Mario Party meets Monopoly game.

Okay, a point for sticking with her original silver dress instead of the altered blue one they use for merch. But big demerit for giving Cinderella her current blonde hair when we all damn well know this girl had RED in her hair. Strawberry blond Cinderella > Blonde Cinderella.

Terra's first trip into Cinderella's world opens with him catching her post-dress rip, crying her eyes out. Apparently she's sad enough that she failed to notice the Unversed literally inches from her, of which Terra beat them seven ways to Sunday. It literally takes the Fairy Godmother teleporting within her vision for her to snap to because the game has to adapt the movie's plot straight as accurate to its source material as possible (it's that or make up a story whole cloth.) Terra later has to accompany and protect her inside the Prince's castle when the Unversed attacks so she can make it to the ball in time. Look, I'm all for her having fun after all the emotional bullshit she's had to deal with growing up, and I get the magic spell is on a timer, but there's monsters invading the castle and not once does anyone do a damn thing about it. Maybe Cinderella is aware of this. Knowing she, at the time, only has one shot to truly enjoy herself before returning to her days as an indentured servant to her shitty family, she shrugged and figured, "What the hell. You only live once." She's going to the dang ball and she's gonna have a magical time, evil creatures threatening to maim her be damned.

Then again, look how empty the castle is. Of course the Unversed waltzed in like they own the joint, there's only like seven people during the Grand Ball. Did the royal vizier lose the invitations? Sir, are you tricking the King by deluding him into thinking there's hundreds raving it up in there?

I think it's super cool that, being a prequel to the main KH timeline, Birth By Sleep's worlds have, so far, been connected to the original Seven Princesses of Hearts who has yet to be represented. We've already been to Alice, Jasmine, and Belle's world in KH 1 through KH2. Currently, Terra stumbled onto Aurora's (accurate to the movie, she's already asleep and uselessly does nothing) and now Cinderella's. The only one left is Snow White's and I assume we're gonna see her world, too. I hope so. Also, it looks like the game will show us how they ALL got captured (well, the ones in BBS) in time for KH1. We already saw Aurora's which, since this takes place a decade before KH1... oof, she's been comatose for a while. Not quite the one hundred years Maleficent intended, but you don't ignore ten years of sleep!

Within the context of Cinderella's narrative, the titular character's endless optimism and hope is something she channels as her personal inner strength. People criticize her for "being passive", but Cinderella is stuck in a situation she cannot easily escape from. She's an abused victim controlled by a woman with reasonable amount of money and a likely high enough position to keep it that way. Her dream is a survival tactic and ultimately what keeps her going; her utter defiant and refusal to sink into depression takes immeasurable strength to do so. Terra counters this, saying he achieves his dreams on his own, but the thing is, he has the means to do so. Sticking with Cinderella has Terra reconsider though. While her mantra is not inherently compatible with his lifestyle, Terra's constant battle with darkness might mean that maybe, sometimes, you got to have something positive to carry with you to help you during times of distraught, especially if that's all you can do (I do not know if Terra's world have professional therapists. Maybe. I guess? Sure?) I wonder if Cinderella's words is just the kind of mentality that Terra could, at minimum, keep in mind during his quest to find Xehanort. Course, I'm left wondering if the hope spot he decides to build for himself is one where he either suppresses the darkness or embraces it. I'm probably overthinking this ("believe in your friends", "you have the power of light", "have hope" and similar cheers are plentiful obligations in Kingdom Hearts that it almost feels senseless), but Cinderella's beliefs that which kept her alive, might very well be worth trying for someone whose mind is currently in strife.

OH HELL YES.

I was informed of this boss a while back by friends who have played or, at least, had a passing familiarity with the game, cuz' they know what my aesthetic is. And this is aesthetic. I failed to take screencaps, but his hat can be knocked off. He'll pick it up eventually, and when he does, the guy dusts off any dirt that got on it before placing it back on his head. What an elegant soul!

Okay, so um, I think I kind of ship these two. I didn't take screencaps, but there's another scene in the game where Cinderella giggles at him in a flirty sort of way, and actually takes Terra's advice to "stay strong", which is also a great wraparound to Terra taking Cinderella's mantra.

Like, look at them! Forget Prince Charming, Cinderella, let Terra sweep you off your feet and take you to all the Worlds, rules be damned!

[mechaknight-98]

Undaunted (NSFW) ft Sejeong

Author’s note: when I started this piece it was meant to be a fun romp but because Mr. Riordan has tied so much of being a half-blood to being neuro divergent a lot of old wounds invariably brought up and I had a lot to say… more so than usual. So bear with me on this one it’s a long one. 13 k words or so.

I always thought that isolation suited me more than unity or coalitions, believing I could handle anything alone. I've never been more glad to be proven wrong.

Sejeong and I were recent acquaintances. I had been working as a videographer for her entertainment company for four weeks now, spending hours on photo shoots, behind-the-scenes videos, and assisting with music videos and audition tapes. She was bubbly and energetic, a bit much for my taste, but she didn't push me too hard, so I continued working with her. I respected her dedication to her craft—whether acting, modeling, brand ambassadorship or singing—as she always strived to embody each role with utmost dedication. It was inspiring.

At the end of an early day's shoot, she approached me for the first time with genuine interest. Aware that my stern demeanor often kept others at bay, Sejeong boldly asked, "You're Val, right?" I nodded slowly, skepticism palpable. Sejeong smiled warmly and said, "Great, you're coming for coffee with me after this."

Her determined look made it clear that refusal wasn't an option. Before agreeing, I needed to understand her motives.

"Sure, but on one condition," I replied. "You tell me why."

Sejeong tilted her head, maintaining her innocent smile. "Because, silly, we've been working together for months, and I don't even know your name," she said matter-of-factly.

I narrowed my eyes; Sejeong mirrored me, realizing her oversight.

"I barely know yours either," she retorted. "Plus, what if there's an emergency and you need to be found? I think they'll need more information than tall stocky African American man,” Sejeong expanded

Her response eased my skepticism. I followed her to a nearby coffee shop where she remained bubbly and smiling throughout—concerning traits in my experience. People like that were either hiding immense pain or were super evil. As we ordered, she insisted on paying.

"I'm sorry, I just have bad luck when I don't pay for meals," she explained.

I shrugged, "It's no big deal. Plus, this isn't a meal. I got a hot chocolate, and you got coffee."

Sejeong relaxed at my logic. As we sat down, she steepled her hands and asked, "So, tell me about yourself."

This was the first time I took a good look at her, and she was stunning. Despite being a couple of years older, she exuded an aura of ease that made me feel oddly comfortable like I could drop my guard. So, I acquiesced to her prodding.

"Just a normal guy from Cali, I guess. Mom, Dad, and two sisters."

"Oh, are you the oldest, youngest, or middle child?" she inquired.

"I'm in the middle," I responded.

"Cool. I'm the youngest," Sejeong shared. I nodded, surprising her.

"Wait, you know?" she asked, puzzled.

"I did my research before joining the company. Plus, I'm a casual K-pop fan, and you're considered royalty," I explained. Sejeong smiled.

"So, are you a fan of mine too?" she teased.

I shrugged, "I like your acting, but your music isn't my thing."

Realizing too late that I should have been more tactful, I tried to clarify, "Not that it's bad objectively; it's just not my taste."

This only seemed to make it worse, and Sejeong began to pout. "So, you hate my music?" she asked, hurt.

As the situation escalated, I searched for a way to salvage it. Thankfully, a blonde angel came to my rescue.

"Unnie, leave this poor guy alone. Can't you see he's flustered?" Somi intervened as she approached our table. Beside her was a young man in our age range named Ivan. Sejeong turned to Somi, smiling.

"Ah, Somi, can't I have a little fun?" she teased, hugging her friend. Ivan and Somi joined us, and the atmosphere shifted from a business introduction to a casual hangout among friends. Feeling out of place, I listened as Ivan, Somi, and Sejeong chatted and bantered like old friends.

As they talked, a server brought over a plate of food "on the house." While they were engrossed in their conversation, I managed to sneak a few bites, hoping to leave some for them. After ten minutes of rapid Korean dialogue, I excused myself to the restroom. Inside, I splashed water on my face, trying to clear my head.

"When you go back out there, you're going to tell them, 'Hey, something came up, and I have to head home,'" I rehearsed aloud. I failed to notice other occupants in the restroom, but I did hear the telltale rattling of a hydra's tail. Turning back, I found a Lernaean Hydra staring at me.

We locked eyes, and I tried to defuse the situation. "Hey, let's not fight. We can casually cross paths and not kill each other," I proposed, but the hydra lunged at me anyway. I dodged its attack and summoned the "Pyretic Claws of the Storm Beast," slashing at the hydra’s heads until I managed to defeat it. The hydra attempted to regenerate from burning stumps until it finally exploded with a loud "pop," leaving me covered in its guts and slime.

Behind where the hydra stood, Sejeong, Ivan, and Somi stared at me with intrigue.

"You're a demigod, like us," Sejeong declared.

Over the next few days, Sejeong insisted on introducing me to her other demigod friends. These meet-ups usually came with a free meal, so I reluctantly accepted. The friends included two more couples: Levi and Heejin, and Gahyeon and Preston. Levi and Preston were friends of Ivan. I tried to keep my distance both emotionally and physically, but Sejeong always pushed me back into the center. Her reasoning was always along the lines that demigods shouldn’t be alone. Rationally, it made sense; I just didn’t like it. My dad had intentionally raised me away from all of this when my mother left, so I was conflicted. After meeting everyone, we started doing group hangs, the first of which was today.

When we reached the outside of Somi and Ivan’s apartment, I stood frozen. Sejeong noticed and smiled at me.

“Everything alright, Vally?” she asked. I remained silent, prompting her to furrow her brows.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t like this, but I can’t place why. Everything about crossing this threshold makes my skin crawl and makes me want to smash something,” I responded.

Sejeong listened and then asked, “Weren’t you raised around demigods?”

I shook my head. I had met others before but never more than a handful of times. Sejeong’s eyes widened as she listened, prompting her to ask, “Wait, so you’ve survived all this time with no training and no support? Do you even know your godly parent?”

I resisted the urge to scoff. My situation was unique, despite being normal for me, so scoffing at her served no purpose.

“Yes, Seji. My mother claimed me before I went to college and gave me the ‘Claws of the Storm Beast.’ She told me, ‘You’re on your own. I can’t protect you anymore,’” I explained.

Sejeong looked befuddled before asking, “Who the hell is your mom? That sounds terrible.”

I thought about lying but realized it would serve no purpose, so I told the complicated and strange truth. “My mom is Zeus. Long story short, Hera thought a good punishment for his sins would be to live as a woman for a few years. During one of those years, Zeus met my dad, who was separated from his wife, the lady I refer to as my mom, and they had me. She dropped me off with my dad and came back occasionally to chat with him until he reconciled with his wife.”

I watched as Sejeong’s brain broke hearing that. I didn’t blame her; the same thing happened to me when I first heard it.

When she recovered, she asked, “How have you been surviving all this time without being trained? And what is the ‘Fangs of the Storm Dragon’ you mentioned?”

Her response seemed odd to me, but I humored her. “I learned to fight from TV, specifically wrestling and action hero shows. The ‘fangs of the Storm Dragon’ is my weapon, given to me by my mom. It was designed and crafted by my mom with elements from each major betrayer god.”

Sejeong nodded and said, “We are getting you trained as soon as possible.”

I raised an eyebrow, confused as to why Sejeong didn’t respond further, which frustrated me. I had told her all this stuff about me, yet I still didn’t have much information about her. Before she could open the door, I asked about her godly parent and how she survived. She was so taken aback by my story that she was super open about hers.

“My dad is Loki. He claimed me when I was young, but I was already training with other demigods at that point,” she answered.

I nodded at the foreign concepts and feigned understanding of what that was like, yet I remained frozen still.

Sejeong smiled then said, “Tell you what Vally if you come with me right now I'll let you be alone all next week.” I know her words were meant to comfort but they brought a sense of unease within me as I found myself saying,

“No! I like spending time with you…I have grown accustomed to you being around.” I said the rational part of my mind says she still has the potential to be a highly dangerous individual but my emotions presented an intense dichotomy.

Sejeong smiled at me and then said, “If you wanted to date me you could have asked.” she smiled as she watched me short-circuit for a few seconds before opening the door and leading me inside my hand in hers.

The atmosphere in the room is jovial, with friends hanging out and goofing off. It is oddly charming. Sejeong leads me to a spot next to her as we huddle around a hot pot. I take out the Kobe beef and other various meats I brought, along with some veggies and a couple of sushi rolls for palate diversity.

Ivan, Somi’s boyfriend and son of Bacchus, says merrily, “You brought all this for us? Dude, you are the best.”

A smile creeps onto my face. “Well, yeah. Someone has to make sure you don’t poison us with alcohol.”

Sejeong turns to me and cracks a smile. “Oh, was that a joke I heard? I thought Mr. Serious didn’t understand jokes.”

I look at her and reply, “Well, maybe you just aren’t funny?”

Somi, daughter of Aphrodite, laughs, putting me further at ease. Heejin, the daughter of Tsukuyomi laughs too, and stares at me. Not in a particularly menacing or emotionally charged way, but in a very observant way, as if she is trying to figure me out.

Eventually, she asks the question I think she’s been wanting to. “So, Val, who is your godly parent?” The room grows silent. Feeding on the excitement and atmosphere, I reply, “Take a guess.”

Sejeong laughs before telling them that they would never guess it, even with a million hints. I agree but give them the first one.

“She is not who you think it would be.”

Sejeong compliments my hint, saying how good it was as the group begins to guess.

“Morrigan. You kinda radiate her energy as a scary powerhouse,” Levi, son of Tyr says.

I shake my head.

Gahyeon, daughter of Daji, says, “Hmm, well then, my guess is Izanami.”

I shake my head again, surprising everyone. I see Preston, son of Minerva, eyeing me intently.

“It’s your mom, correct?” he asks.

I nod.

“What pantheon?”

“Greek,” I respond.

Preston eyes me, then says, “Huh, you seem way too powerful to be just the son of a Greek goddess. We thought you were stronger than that. Based on how you carry yourself and the static always around you, I’d say Zeus, but that can’t be right.”

At this point, Sejeong loses it. She begins laughing uncontrollably and smiling, making everyone present look at her. Then it clicks.

“Your mom is Zeus,” Somi says. She pauses, then adds, “Yes, we love a girl boss.”

I turn to Sejeong, confused, but she is all smiles.

“How?” Heejin asks, baffled.

“Well, I—” I begin to answer, but time seems to slow down until the air stops. I look around to see everything frozen.

“So, you finally found a home?” an older, feminine voice rang out, instantly recognizable. My fists clenched and my jaw tightened, mirroring the way she used to stand when preparing for a confrontation.

I turned to face my mother. She looked older than the last time I saw her, but still undeniably her: dark skin like mine, long dark brown hair streaked with white, and those piercing gray eyes. Her stance was identical to mine, a stance of readiness and defiance. Everything I hated about myself reflected in me.

“How have you been, DuVal?” she asked, her tone calm yet fierce. It was a voice I had often used to mask my vulnerabilities. I stared in silence, feeling a storm of emotions rise within me. Her gaze held a mix of emotions—bottled rage, the same rage I saw in myself, always simmering just beneath the surface.

“I see you’ve found a home.” Her words were careful, layered with meaning. I kept my guard up, watching her eyes flick from me to Somi, then Heejin, and finally to Sejeong. When her gaze returned to me, it was with a knowing look.

“This one, she’s the one you like,” my mother said confidently.

My fists tightened, my eyes never leaving hers. “Why are you here, Zeus? To remind me of all the times you weren’t?”

She sighed, a mixture of sadness and frustration in her expression. “I know I haven’t been the mother you needed. My actions—or lack of them—have caused you pain. But I’ve always watched over you, DuVal. Always.”

“Watching from a distance isn’t the same as being there,” I retorted, my voice rising. “You left me to fend for myself, to figure out who I am and what I’m supposed to do. And now you just show up, expecting what? Gratitude?”

Her eyes softened. “What was I to do? Beg your father not to break you despite being adamant about making you like everyone else? I don't beg. I told him the ramifications of pursuing ‘rearing for your special needs,’ but he didn't listen. No matter how many teachers and mentors I sent your way, dropping hints about embracing your heritage, he ignored me. Only your mother listened.”

I tensed. “I didn’t agree with my dad on a lot of things, but I believe he did his best.”

“He didn’t know what I was or what it would cost,” I added.

“You believe that? Then why would he root you so deeply in his faith despite having met me and our chats? Why only mention me when he kicked you out? Has he ever apologized for that? If this is about abandonment, he’s as guilty as I am. No, this goes deeper. You hate me because I remind you of all your failed attempts to be normal, despite knowing you’re not. Well, let me be the bigger person and say, ‘I’m sorry I burdened you with such gifts.’”

“Do you expect me to be grateful for this condescending apology?”

“I don’t expect gratitude. I know I don’t deserve it. But you need to understand the weight of your heritage. There are threats on the horizon, and your power is needed.”

I shook my head, the storm inside me brewing. “I’m nothing like you. I don’t want to be.”

“You don’t believe that. I see it in your heart and your eyes. Your appetites are like mine. We share the drive to lead, and to have power. You just refuse yourself. Why not let yourself run wild and let experience temper you? It will be the only way you will learn control.”

Her words brought a splitting headache as my rage and emotions threatened to spill out. Zeus looked to Sejeong and said, “Have you even kissed her yet? Or are you fighting your attraction to her as well?”

Her words were scathing. I thought of a clever comeback, but she was always quicker. “I mean, she is your type—cute face, bubbly personality, sizable assets, and older than you. Why haven’t you made a move?” she prodded.

“Shut up,” I said.

“If you just let yourself be free, you wouldn’t stumble over your words like that.” She bemoaned, “Stop holding back,” she demanded.

She stepped closer, her presence both comforting and overwhelming. “You are more like me than you realize. The strength, the rage, the desire to protect those you care about. It’s all there, DuVal. Embrace it.”

I shook my head defiantly. “Oh really? So you expect me to believe your heart doesn’t ache that she’s not yours. Maybe I should take her.” I broke for a moment, I admit she was pressing all my buttons.

“Touch her and I’ll rip your throat out. She’s mine!” I growled, and my mother was all smiles.

“See how good that felt? I could feel the conviction, the passion, the courage in your words there. Surely it felt good to tell me off, to stake your claim, didn’t it?”

I stood straight and readjusted my posture, and my mother groaned.

The room seemed to pulse with her words, the static in the air intensifying. I glanced at Sejeong, her frozen smile a stark reminder of what was at stake. Could I turn my back on this part of myself?

“I don’t need your help,” I said, though the conviction in my voice wavered.

“Perhaps not,” she replied softly. “But you need to know the truth. The path you’re on is fraught with danger, and you can’t face it alone. Think about it, DuVal. Think about who you want to be.”

I clenched my fists, feeling the energy crackle around me. “I want to be someone different. Someone better.”

“You can be better, DuVal. Better than me. But not by denying who you are. Our power, our drive, it’s a part of us. Channel it, control it, and it will make you stronger. You’ve always had the potential to surpass me, but you have to stop fighting yourself.”

She reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. The touch was electric, a jolt that sent shivers down my spine. “Embrace the storm within you. Use it to protect those you love. Don’t let fear hold you back.”

I looked into her eyes, seeing a reflection of my struggle. The same determination, the same intensity. “I don’t want to be like you, but I can’t deny what I am.”

“Then don’t deny it. Use it. Be the leader you’re meant to be, not the one you think you should be. Lead with your heart and your passion. It’s not a weakness, it’s your greatest strength.”

I took a deep breath, the storm inside me calming slightly. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said, her voice softening. “Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You have people who care about you, and who will stand by you. Don’t push them away.”

As she stepped back, I felt a strange sense of relief and a flicker of hope. Maybe I could find a way to balance the storm within me, to use my power for something good. But it would take time, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to fully embrace that part of myself.

“Think about it, DuVal. Think about who you want to be,” she repeated, her eyes locking with mine one last time before she turned and walked away.

I stood there, the static in the air slowly dissipating, and looked at Sejeong. She gave me a reassuring smile,

With that, time resumed. The room filled with laughter and conversation once more, but my mind was a whirlwind of confusion and unresolved emotions. Noticing my change in temperament, Sejeong squeezed my hand, grounding me in the moment. I had a lot to consider, and even more to decide. So I did the thing I knew best.

“I have to go. I just remembered I had something to do,” I said to everyone. Sejeong stood up in front of me as I tried to leave.

“DuVal, what happened? You were cracking jokes and having fun, and now you have to leave. What gives?” The rest of the group surrounded me. Their faces showed concern, but I couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. I tried to get around Sejeong, not realizing at the time that the children of Loki could shapeshift. One moment I was trying to politely get around her, the next I was facing a polar bear. At that moment, I would have rather dealt with Sejeong.

I began to suppress my surging fight response but was failing, as evidenced by the manifestation of "Abyssal Claws of the Storm Beast" in my hands. Realizing her tactics weren’t working, Sejeong did the smartest thing: she shifted back to her normal form and brought me down to her level, hugging me. My heart stilled as the storm inside me began to fade. She tilted my face up from her chest and, with a wicked smile, said, “Feeling better? Or do you need more time cuddling with Samantha and Rachel?” All the tension and emotional turmoil I was processing disappeared at that moment. I stood up and smiled at her. She smiled back before guiding me back to the party.

A few days later, we wrapped filming for a major project, and Sejeong took me back to her place. She booted up her PS5 and started playing FF7 Rebirth. I watched her play but didn’t try to backseat game her. I smiled as she triumphed over a particularly grueling boss in the middle of the game. She looked over to me with a smile, but the fatigue was getting to both of us. I felt my eyes droop and my head fall. The last thing I remembered was her saying, “Omomo.”

I dreamed I was overlooking a vast expanse of sky, the scene cautiously calming. I turned to see my mom. She was smiling, but her presence stirred the emotions I had been burying deep inside. My eye twitched involuntarily.

“Why do you hate yourself so much?” Zeus asked, her voice gentle yet piercing.

“What?” I responded, taken aback.

“You wallow in self-loathing. It’s concerning, yet you hide it well. Why?”

“I don’t understand,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat.

“Every time we talk, I can see into you, just as you can see into me. I see your hatred of yourself for not being like others, for feeling destined for destruction rather than creation. You wish you could tear yourself apart every day, but you can’t because your body won’t let you. You repress the ferocious, fervent, royal side of you because you’re ashamed of it. Shame others taught you. You are a king. Why do you let them diminish you?”

“That’s a very out-of-touch way to view people,” I retorted, but Zeus wasn’t swayed.

“You and I both know these people don’t want to lead themselves. They want a wise and tested leader to guide them, to make the hard choices so they can live freely and safely. So what are they if not peasants?”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I wasn’t ready for this confrontation.

“Oh, you weren’t expecting your mother to challenge you like this, were you? Well, buckle up. This is just the beginning. You endure these miserable and intolerable creatures who engage with you as if they’re your equals and bear their injustices, yet wonder why they don’t accept you. No matter how much you defang and claw yourself, the truth remains: you aren’t like them. They know it and will continue to remind you of that fact. So why bother with them?”

“Because a true leader…” I began, but Zeus cut me off.

“A true leader leads ahead of the pack, where it is the loneliest. Stop acting like one of them. You’re better than them. You and that girl are better than this. You should be running the world together. That much is certain.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, frustration boiling over.

“Because you crave validation from sources that can’t give you the praise you seek. These people are not your peers, no matter how much you want them to be. So stand proud and ferocious. Let your rage and power out. Stop holding back because others can’t see your intentions. Let your desires guide you, not your mind. Your mind will only blind you, telling you who you need to be to survive, not who you are meant to be to thrive.”

I sat there, feeling competing desires rise within me, a storm of emotions I’d been trying to suppress.

“Don’t shame yourself for what you want. Want it, Chase it, but don't meander with the sheep it will only weaken you.”

I stared at my mother, her words slicing through the barriers I had meticulously built around my heart. The storm within me raged, conflicting desires crashing like thunder and lightning. I felt the familiar pull of shame, but also a strange, burgeoning sense of clarity.

“Mom, it’s not that simple,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t just embrace this…this side of me. It’s dangerous. It’s destructive.”

Zeus’ expression softened, but her eyes remained fierce. “Dangerous? Destructive? DuVal, you are my son. You carry the tempest within you, but you also hold the power to control it. You are not just a force of destruction; you are a beacon of potential, of leadership, of hope.”

I shook my head, the weight of her expectations pressing down on me. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to be a monster. I don’t want to hurt people.”

“And you won’t,” she replied firmly. “You have the heart of a protector. But denying your true nature only weakens you, and makes you vulnerable. You need to find balance, to harness your power without letting it consume you.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the air crackle with the tension of my emotions. “How? How do I do that?”

Zeus stepped closer, her presence overwhelming yet comforting. “By accepting who you are, all of who you are. You are both human and divine. Embrace your heritage, not as a burden, but as a gift. Let those you care about see the real you, not the mask you wear to hide your fears.”

I felt a tear slip down my cheek, mingling with the faint sparks of static. “But what if they reject me? What if they can’t handle it?”

She gently wiped the tear away, her touch warm and grounding. “True friends, true allies, will stand by you, no matter what. And those who don’t? They were never meant to be part of your journey.”

I closed my eyes, letting her words sink in. The storm within me began to calm, not because it was gone, but because I was starting to accept it as a part of me. “I’ll try, Mom. I’ll try to be who I’m meant to be.”

Zeus smiled a rare, genuine smile that filled me with a sense of hope. “That’s all I ask. Remember, you are not alone in this. We are connected, you and I. And there is strength in that connection.”

As her image began to fade, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The dream dissolved, and I woke up in Sejeong’s apartment. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room.

Sejeong was still asleep, her face serene. I watched her for a moment, feeling a surge of affection and gratitude. She had seen a glimpse of my true self and hadn’t turned away. Maybe, just maybe, I could learn to embrace all parts of myself and find the balance I so desperately needed.

Carefully, I slipped out of bed and made my way to the window. (unsure how I got there from the couch) The sky was clear, a soft blue expanse stretching out before me. For the first time in a long while, I felt a spark of hope, a flicker of possibility. I didn’t have all the answers, but I had a direction, and a path to follow.

The decision to be honest with those who mattered most felt like a heavy weight lifting from my shoulders. I returned to Sejeong, lying peacefully in her sleep. Despite her serene appearance, she began to shuffle uncomfortably, her hand reaching out as if searching for something. On instinct, I took her hand, and the frown that had creased her face melted back into her typical smile.

I stayed with her like that for a while, watching her breathe and feeling the warmth of her hand in mine. When she finally woke, her eyes met mine with a clarity that took my breath away.

“Sejeong,” I said softly, my heart pounding.

“Yeah, Val?” she responded, her voice still thick with sleep.

“I like you,” I confessed, the words tumbling out with a mix of anxiety and relief.

Sejeong’s lips curved into a playful smile. “Well, are you going to do something about it?”

Without hesitating, I cupped her cheeks in my hands and kissed her. Her lips tasted faintly of the spicy ramen we’d shared earlier, a perfect mix of heat and comfort. As our kiss deepened, my mind began to blank out, and all I could focus on was the insatiable desire coursing through me.

Her hands moved to my shoulders, pulling me closer. The intensity of the moment seemed to charge the air around us. Static electricity crackled, making the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end. Sejeong’s touch was grounding, pulling me back even as my emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

When we finally pulled apart, her eyes were bright, a mix of amusement and something deeper. “That’s more like it,” she teased, her fingers tracing the lines of my jaw.

I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in days. “There’s so much I need to tell you, Sejeong. About my mother, about what’s coming. But right now, I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

She nodded, her expression turning serious. “We’ll face whatever comes together, Val. But you don’t have to carry everything on your own. I’m here with you, every step of the way.”

Her words settled something inside me, a reassurance that I wasn’t alone. We stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the world outside continued to turn. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Sejeong smiles, but right now I think I need a bit more of your affection.

Sejeong’s eyes narrow as she brings me in for another kiss.

“Don’t think,” she said and my brain cleared of all thoughts the only thing that remained was lust and affection for her in the moment. She gave me a sexy and sultry look that made me want to see how far I could bury my dick into any of her holes. She goes in for another kiss then says, “Come on Val bare your fangs . Hunt! Let it all just this once,” she said instead of fighting my instincts and urges I run with them I tear into Sejeong’s hoodie and eventually we stand naked in front of each other.

I marvel at her bush. Which causes her to be uncharacteristically shy. When she tries to hide though I spread her legs open and plunge my dick inside of her pussy. Sejeong moans as I spear her, her eyes look up to mine and she smiles, “take me,” she implores me. I begin to thrust gently in and out of her. Hoping to find a tempo she likes. I emphasized slow and deep strokes as she seemed to like when I touched her womb. Her pussy envelops me with the most pleasant feeling of tightness that I can’t help but continue pleasing her. I watch as she comes undone from the pressure and she reaches her peak.

She moans and then looks up at me with a wild look in her eyes before pushing me to be under her. She begins to bounce on my rod with the fury of ten suns.

“Yes, Yes, fuck yes,” she moans as I feel her walls tighten to milk me for all I’m worth. The longer I last the more ferocious she becomes and eventually I lose to her and she has me cum all over her tits. She smiles before taking a long lurid lick and saying, “Delicious,”

The next day, I woke up in a muddled haze that cleared slightly when I saw Sejeong sleeping comfortably beside me. She looked serene, and I smiled, realizing just how much I loved her. That intense feeling was one of the many things my father had said we shared: the capacity to feel deeply.

As if sensing my thoughts, Sejeong turned to me with a bright smile. "Morning, handsome," she said. Her bright eyes looked into mine, and she leaned in to kiss me. I followed her lead, savoring the moment. "Okay, time to get up," she said.

"Okay," I responded. We got ready, and I made her coffee just the way she liked it. We watched the sunrise from a bench near Sejeong's apartment, and as the dawn broke, I felt a familiar presence.

I turned to see my mother approaching slowly but with intent. When she came into view, she appraised Sejeong and me. Sejeong looked at Zeus, then at me, and said, "I see the resemblance. That steely gaze, the commanding aura. You must be Zeus, although last time we met, you looked a little different."

Zeus looked at Sejeong, confused. "Daughter of Loki? How so?"

Sejeong laughed. "Oh, so that way of speaking is genetic. Well, Queen of the Skies, you had less of this," she pointed to her chest, "and you had something between your legs."

My mom looked up, and Sejeong laughed again. "Wow, Val got a lot from you," Sejeong chuckled. I turned to her, and she explained, "When you recollect Zeus, you look away as your mind goes over the memory."

I laughed. "Are you enjoying this?"

"Oh yes. I love seeing my boyfriend puzzled. He just has the cutest focused face."

"Boyfriend?"

"You're surprised? You've been at my beck and call for the past few weeks, and we've gone on three dates. We are boyfriend and girlfriend," Sejeong asserted. I gave a worried look.

"Am I that readable?"

"Not at first glance, but after seeing your heart and all your quirks, I've thumbed through your book a few times."

I groaned, making Sejeong laugh. "Come on, Vally, just accept it."

When she said that, Zeus chuckled. "You remind me of Val's father with that."

I turned to her, on guard. Sejeong noticed and squeezed my hand to calm me down.

"What do you mean?" Sejeong asked for me.

"Well, the playful teasing and compassion, for starters. But this makes me realize, Val," Zeus chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement and pride. "You know, our taste in partners is remarkably similar. I see so much of what I admire in Sejeong. She's strong, yet kind. Fiercely independent but deeply loyal. Just like your father."

I clenched my fist, my mom's praise for my father hitting a nerve. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't hold back. "If he was so great, then why did you leave him and me?" The sky darkened lightly at my comment. Zeus's intense glare bore into my eyes, but I didn't back down.

Zeus sighed, sitting down next to us. "It's complicated, Val. Your father and I... we had different paths, different destinies."

Sejeong, sensing the importance of the conversation, moved closer, her hand finding mine for support. Zeus noticed the gesture and smiled faintly.

"Your father was a good man, Val. Strong, principled, but also... mortal. Our worlds were too different. As a god, I have responsibilities and burdens he could never fully understand or share. And I could never be the partner he needed because of those obligations."

I frowned, trying to piece together the fragments of my childhood memories. "But you loved him, right? Why wasn't that enough?"

Zeus nodded, her eyes softening with a hint of sadness. "Love is powerful, but it's not always enough to bridge such vast differences. Our relationship put him in danger and exposed him to things no mortal should endure. And as much as I loved him, I couldn't let my presence continue to put him at risk. It wasn't fair to him, or you."

My jaw tightened, but I didn't interrupt. Sejeong squeezed my hand gently, offering silent support.

"I had to make a choice," Zeus continued, her voice heavy with the weight of her words. "I chose to protect him by leaving, hoping it would allow him to live a safer, more stable life. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made, but I believed it was the right one."

"Much like you with that Ishtar priestess. Speaking of, how did the curse turn out?" Zeus asked.

"It's been removed, thanks," I responded coldly. Zeus laughed.

"Good," she said with a smile. Sejeong, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. "It's clear that your father loved you both, Val. But sometimes, love means making sacrifices for the greater good, even if it hurts."

I turned to Sejeong, her words resonating deeply. Then I looked back at Zeus, a sense of resolution beginning to form. "I understand now. It doesn't make it any less painful, but I get why you did what you did."

Zeus reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Val. And remember, even though I had to leave, I never stopped caring about you. I never stopped watching over you."

“So, this is the famous Sejeong,” Zeus said, her voice carrying that familiar mix of calm and intensity. Sejeong looked up, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of Zeus. I could see her assessing my mother, taking in the same dark skin, the long brown hair streaked with white, and those piercing gray eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“Yes, and you must be Zeus,” Sejeong replied, her voice steady but her eyes flickering with curiosity and something akin to recognition.

Zeus smiled, a small, knowing smile that sent a chill down my spine. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the woman who’s managed to capture my son’s heart.”

Sejeong glanced at me, then back at Zeus. “The pleasure is mine. I’ve heard… a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have,” Zeus said, her gaze shifting to me. “DuVal has always been quite the storyteller.”

I could see Sejeong studying us both, her eyes darting between Zeus and me. She had a keen eye for detail, and I knew she was picking up on the similarities—the way we both stood with a certain tension, the way our eyes could pierce through someone’s defenses, the way our voices carried a similar weight.

“You two move the same way,” Sejeong observed, her tone curious. “It’s like watching a reflection.”

Zeus chuckled softly. “Well, he is my son. Some things are bound to be inherited.”

Sejeong nodded, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she continued to watch us. “But there are differences too. Val is… softer, I think. More willing to show his vulnerabilities.”

Zeus’s smile faded slightly. “Is that so? I always thought strength came from hiding one’s weaknesses.”

Sejeong shook her head. “No, I believe true strength comes from embracing them. From being honest about who you are.”

Zeus looked at Sejeong with a new level of respect. “You’re wise beyond your years, Sejeong. Perhaps you’re the influence DuVal needs.”

Sejeong smiled a warm and genuine smile that seemed to light up the porch. “Maybe we’re what each other needs.”

I felt a swell of pride at Sejeong’s words, but also a pang of something else—fear, perhaps, that she would see too much of Zeus in me.

Zeus stepped closer, her eyes fixed on Sejeong. “Tell me, Sejeong, what do you see when you look at DuVal?”

Sejeong didn’t hesitate. “I see someone who’s struggled, who’s faced immense challenges, but who’s still kind and caring. Someone who’s trying to find his place in the world.”

Zeus nodded slowly. “And do you see the same in me?”

Sejeong paused, her eyes thoughtful. “I see someone who’s powerful, but who’s perhaps forgotten what it’s like to be vulnerable. Someone who’s built walls to protect themselves.”

Zeus’s gaze softened for a moment, a rare display of vulnerability. “You’re very perceptive, Sejeong. DuVal is lucky to have you.”

Sejeong smiled again. “And he’s lucky to have you, too. Even if he doesn’t always see it that way.”

I looked at Zeus, seeing a flicker of something in her eyes—pride, maybe, or a hint of the love she rarely showed. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to give me hope.

Zeus smiled faintly, her gaze lingering on Sejeong. “You have your father’s eyes, but your mother’s spirit.”

Sejeong tilted her head slightly, a question in her eyes. “You knew my father?”

“Oh yes,” Zeus chuckled softly, “I’ve known Loki for eons. He’s quite the trickster, your father. Always up to some mischief or another.”

Sejeong raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. “And how do I compare?”

Zeus studied Sejeong for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “You are different from Loki in many ways. He revels in chaos and thrives on unpredictability. You, on the other hand, bring a sense of stability and clarity.”

Sejeong nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose I inherited my mother’s influence. She valued honesty and integrity above all else.”

“That balance serves you well,” Zeus noted, a hint of approval in her voice. “Loki may be a master of illusions, but you see through them. That’s a rare gift.”

Sejeong smiled warmly, a genuine expression that softened the tension between them. “Thank you. I try to use it wisely.”

Zeus nodded, her gaze shifting to me. “And DuVal? How does Sejeong influence you?”

I glanced at Sejeong, feeling a swell of pride and admiration. “She… grounds me. She sees through my walls and challenges me to be better.”

Zeus’s eyes softened, a hint of maternal pride flickering across her features. “You’ve chosen well, DuVal.”

Sejeong looked between us, sensing the unspoken history and emotions. “There’s a lot you two share,” she remarked softly. “But there are also differences.”

“Yes,” Zeus agreed, her gaze returning to Sejeong. “You are a blend of both worlds, Sejeong. Your father’s mischief tempered by your mother’s wisdom. It’s a potent combination.”

Sejeong smiled gratefully, acknowledging the complexity of her heritage. “I’ve learned to embrace both sides. It’s what makes me who I am.”

Zeus nodded and got up. she turned to us and asked, "So what's next for you two love birds?"

"I am taking my feral boyfriend to Camp Half-blood to hopefully make him less feral,"

"Good luck He's worse than Heracles in that regard."

"it will be fine."

True to her word, four days later I was flying back to the States with Sejeong to help with counseling at the camp. The camp had grown tenfold, now housing a myriad of pantheons and incorporating their various practices and traditions. We arrived a few days early, along with the rest of our half-blood friends.

On the taxi ride from the airport to camp, Levi leaned over and warned me, “So, um, we might have spilled the beans about you coming with us, and, uh... well, the Huntresses are coming because Thalia wants to meet her ‘little brother.’ I know you aren’t comfortable with the spotlight, so I figured you should know.”

Sejeong groaned. “I told you all not to tell anyone. I wanted only Chiron to know to avoid the circus.”

“To be fair, we told everyone he was coming before you told us not to,” Somi pointed out.

“I told you all not to do it in the same call,” Sejeong said, exasperated.

“Yes, but it was 5 minutes, 54 seconds, and 32 microseconds later. I had already told my entire cabin by that point,” Heejin replied.

Sejeong rolled her eyes, annoyed at her friends' lack of restraint.

When we got to camp, I noticed an immediate change in my attitude, posture, and temperament. I felt an overwhelming hostility. Sejeong picked up on this and squeezed my hand, hoping to calm me. Instead, it only intensified the rising desire I had for her. I managed to squeak out, “Seji I don’t like this place it gives me weird vibes.,” Sejeong nodded and then said

“It will be okay Vally we’ll get through this one day at a time.” As we enter the camp there is a huge crowd waiting for us. I can feel the gazes and hushed whispers as we pass through. The first to approach us was a dark-haired green-eyed young man a little older than me, and a blonde-haired girl with piercing gray eyes who walked with him.

“Hi, I’m Percy Jackson,” the dark-haired man said, “this is Annabeth Chase.” Sejeong walks over to Percy and Annabeth to give them a big hug. Percy and Annabeth happily received the hug before saying to Sejeong, “Long time no see,” Sejeong nodded before mentioning how she had become quite famous. Percy and Annabeth seemed proud and pleased by this. They looked behind Sejeong where I stood,

“You must be Duval,” Annabeth said. I nod and she laughs

“You don’t look much like Zeus,” Percy says bluntly. I chuckled before responding

“Well can’t control that,” I responded Percy and Annabeth laughed before leading me to the Councilor’s cabin. When we get inside they lead me to the room and bed I’ll be in for the next few weeks.

After I set my stuff down I headed outside to hang out with Sejeong. I noticed quite a few of the crowd were still following, which made me more uncomfortable, but Sejeong shooed them away. As we approached the Loki cabin, its unique design became more pronounced. Twisting vines intertwined with intricate carvings of mythical creatures adorned the wooden structure, giving it an air of mystery and whimsy. Sejeong knocked on the door, and we waited for a response. The sounds of laughter and chatter could be heard from within.

The door creaked open, and Asumi stood there with a bright smile. "Sejeong! It's so good to see you!"

Sejeong stepped forward, embracing her half-sister warmly. "Asumi! I've missed you. How have you been?"

Asumi stepped back, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Come in, come in! We have so much to catch up on."

I followed them into the cabin, feeling slightly out of place but curious. The interior was just as eclectic as the exterior, with colorful tapestries, mismatched furniture, and an assortment of trinkets and oddities scattered about. It was a lively space, reflecting the playful nature of its inhabitants.

Sejeong and Asumi settled onto a worn but comfortable-looking couch, and I hovered nearby, unsure of where to sit. I decided to perch on the edge of a nearby armchair, trying not to intrude too much.

"So, what's the latest gossip?" Sejeong asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.

Asumi leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Well, you won't believe what happened last week. Marcus from the Hermes cabin pulled the most epic prank on the Ares campers. He switched all their weapons with rubber replicas. The look on their faces when they tried to practice was priceless!"

Sejeong laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Classic Marcus. What else?"

Asumi glanced at me briefly, then continued, "And then there’s been talk about the new arrivals. Everyone’s buzzing about a certain son of Zeus who's causing quite a stir."

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I looked down at my hands, pretending to be fascinated by a loose thread on my shirt. Sejeong reached over and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, that's DuVal," Sejeong said, glancing at me with a smile. "He's been handling the attention pretty well, all things considered."

Asumi's gaze softened as she looked at me again. "Well, it's not every day we get someone like you here. It's a lot to take in, I bet."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just trying to find my way, you know?"

Sejeong and Asumi continued their conversation, discussing various camp activities and the latest drama among the campers. I listened attentively, occasionally chiming in when they mentioned someone I had met or an event I had attended. Despite feeling like a bit of an outsider, I found myself enjoying the lively banter and the sense of camaraderie between the sisters.

As the afternoon wore on, more campers filtered in and out of the cabin, each one stopping to say hello and share a laugh. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, and I started to relax, feeling more like part of the group.

At one point, Asumi excused herself to grab some snacks from the kitchen, leaving Sejeong and me alone for a moment. Sejeong leaned closer, her voice low. "Are you okay? I know this is a lot."

I nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm good. It’s nice to see you with your family. You seem so happy."

Sejeong's eyes softened. "I am. And I want you to feel welcome here too."

Before I could respond, Asumi returned with a tray of cookies and drinks. "Here we go! Help yourselves."

We spent the next hour chatting, munching on cookies, and sipping on lemonade. The initial awkwardness I had felt began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of belonging. Asumi was genuinely kind and welcoming, and I appreciated how she made an effort to include me in their conversation.

Eventually, it was time to head back. As we stood to leave, Asumi gave me a warm hug. "It was great to meet you, DuVal. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

I returned the hug, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thanks, Asumi. I'll be back."

Sejeong and I got ready to leave the cabin, as we were walking back towards the door. She looked up at me, a satisfied smile on her face. "See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

I shook my head, smiling. "No, it was nice. Your sister’s great. Thanks for bringing me along."

Sejeong slipped her arm through mine, and as we were about to leave, I heard a familiar voice screech out, "DuVal?"

My face landed directly into my palm as I hoped that the voice wasn't who I thought it was. I turned around to see Cassandra—my ex-girlfriend, daughter of Loki, and Exalted of Ishtar. She looked at me with disdain, but with Sejeong here, she tried to mediate.

"Oh, you know Val?" Sejeong asked Cassandra, surprised.

"Know him? I used to date this motherfucker," Cassandra said lividly.

I shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant, though I could feel the tension in the air.

"Don't you shrug at me like you didn't do anything! We were together for two years, and you left me when it got hard."

I chose my next words extremely carefully so I didn't set her off. "Cassie, we were emotionally abusive to each other, by your admission. You kept pushing me away. I got tired of it and lashed out. I felt bad, I apologized, and do you remember what you said?"

"Don't you dare bring that up! It's not my fault you didn't remember correctly."

"See, you say that, but...you know what? Forget it. I don't care anymore. Let's go back to ignoring each other," I replied.

Cassandra slapped me, and I held my tongue. Fighting the urge to retaliate, I turned to leave the cabin.

"That's it, run away like you always do," was the last thing I heard.

I tried to be the bigger person. Please believe me when I say that.

"I can't believe I cared so deeply for something so pitiful," I muttered, looking at her with a mix of disdain and apathy. It all hit me at once—the hurt, the anger, the realization of how toxic our relationship had been. Sure, we had some good times, but as we got closer, she pushed me further away.

I walked out of the cabin into the afternoon, where it was sprinkling. The gentle rain was oddly soothing as I tried to put as much distance as possible between Cassandra and me. I could hear Sejeong yell something from the cabin, then slam the door before chasing after me. She was visibly shaken by whatever had happened. When she caught up to me, she said, "Tell me what happened. All of it."

So I did. I told her how we met in college, bonded over shared trauma, and how we fell apart after I transferred. I explained how our relationship began to deteriorate, how Cassandra's indecision and emotional turmoil led to every relationship of hers degrading over time, and how every boy she got entangled with ended up hating her. I didn't, though. I felt bad until I just didn't feel anything anymore. The only thing that hurt was the good memories we had, but even those had faded.

I made sure not to paint myself as just the good guy. I was honest about how I was a significant part of the reason it fell apart. I had my faults and failings.

Sejeong looked at me intensely, seeing me for the flawed person I was. She hesitated, then said, "I am going to need some time to process this. Can I talk to you later?"

I nodded, and she gave me a small smile before walking away.

I watched her retreating figure, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. The rain had picked up slightly, each drop feeling like a small pinprick against my skin. I walked aimlessly, trying to clear my head.

Eventually, I found myself at the edge of a small grove, the canopy of trees offering some shelter from the rain. I sat on a fallen log, replaying the confrontation with Cassandra over and over in my mind. The bitterness in her voice, the sting of her slap—it all felt too fresh, too raw.

As I sat there, I couldn't help but reflect on the cycles of pain and anger that seemed to define my past relationships. Cassandra was a stark reminder of a time when I was lost, unsure of myself, and reactive. But now, with Sejeong, I wanted something different. I wanted to be better. I skipped Lunch and Dinner as I sat there trying to get back to my calm but I just couldn't do it. while I go over my time with Cassandra I remember Zeus and my dad both saying before I got entangled with her that she was bad news.

Hunger got the best of me, so I headed to the mess hall for dinner. On the way back, I grabbed my cap to hide my face, not wanting to draw any more attention. Once inside, I found a quiet corner away from prying eyes and sat down. Following the rituals of all the other campers, I began to eat, enjoying the rare moment of silence.

That was until someone approached me. I looked up to see a stunning Native American young woman with the coolest green eyes I had ever seen.

"You're a new face," she said politely.

I chuckled and replied, "I guess that's correct. DuVal, but my friends call me Val, and we are friends now."

The young lady smiled. "Val... I like it. The name's Piper." Piper reached out her hand. I took it and shook it. She smiled again before sitting next to me.

"You know, you don't look like a child of Zeus," she observed.

I chuckled. "Well, Zeus was very different when she was my mom."

"Oh, Zeus is your mom. That's wild, but I kind of see it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, I used to date Jason Grace before he died a few years back," Piper said, her face growing somber.

I gulped uneasily until Piper smiled. "Ah, don't worry about it. It's not your fault. You didn't know," she said reassuringly.

I shrugged, and Piper laughed before asking, "Not a big talker, eh?"

I nodded. "Fair enough," she said, looking down at my hands and then back at my face. "Are you okay? Your hands are trembling."

I looked down and noticed she was right. "A little nervous is all," I replied, my voice shaking as I heard the whispers around me.

"It's him. The Orphan. The Child of Zeus. Where's Sejeong? Why is he all alone? Why is he so quiet?" The whispers were quickly silenced when I stood up to leave. As I did, I accidentally bumped into Thalia. The remains of my food spilled all over her, and she looked up at me. When our eyes met, we both recognized each other.

"Oh, you," she said. I held my tongue.

"So, you're the big shot everyone is talking about."

"I am so sorry. I'll get something to clean that right up," I stammered.

Thalia looked at me with a focused expression. "No, it's fine," she said, though it didn't seem like it. "Come on, sit with me and the Huntresses. I want to meet my new 'little brother.'"

My mind raced as I found myself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Reluctantly, I sat down with Thalia. The Huntresses eyed me curiously as I put my hands down by my legs to stop them from shaking.

"So, tell me about yourself. I've only heard bits and pieces," Thalia said.

"Um, I do photography and videography," I replied.

"Oh, okay. And how long have you known you were a half-blood or that there were others like us?"

"Uh... I knew since I graduated high school a few years ago, but I didn't know about this community until deep into the pandemic when I was constantly hounded by monsters," I explained.

Thalia furrowed her brow. "Is everything okay, brother? You seem uncomfortable."

"I... I don't know. I don't belong here," I said, standing up to leave.

"Sit. We aren't done," Thalia said firmly. Her Huntress friends surrounded me, so I sat back down.

"What's wrong? What's got you so shaken?" Thalia asked, her tone softening. Despite her warning, I attempted to excuse myself again. This time, lightning struck in front of me, and the rest of the camp faded away. I turned back to see my mother, Zeus, staring back at me.

“Why are you running?” she asked pointedly.

“My children don’t run away,” she accused.

“Yes, we do. Jason ran from Piper, Thalia ran away from you, and you ran from every responsibility you didn’t want,” I retorted.

Zeus's eyes glared at me, but I wasn’t going to cower.

“I hide and run from everyone because deep down I know no one will truly like me or understand me. That’s the burden of power and knowledge. When you truly have agency and the strength to make wise choices, people resent you. The cowardly judge you and I’m sick of hiding behind a handicap. I’m sick of reducing myself so others can feel at peace.”

Zeus looked at me, surprised. “I never knew you felt that way.”

“Please, I’m your son. I want everything I can grasp and things I can’t, but my father taught me restraint and control. Do you know what it’s like to have the fathomless desire to take anything you want but need the wisdom to know why you can’t? The part of you that’s inside me wants everything under the sky as mine but the human part of me holds me back and I’m sick of fighting myself, but I can’t because the world is too small..”

Zeus looked at me with wide eyes, “so what are you going to do about it?”

“Let the part of you that’s inside of me out and take what I want,” I said.

Zeus' eyes narrowed as she stared into mine and she asked, “What do you want now,”

“To not be bothered,” I said, and as I finished talking the camp faded back into the light and I realized that everyone was staring at me. I figured they must have seen that whole exchange based on their expressions. I roll my eyes and then go to leave when Thalia stops me this time by throwing her javelin. I sigh and then she says,

“Please stay. I just want to talk,” the punk-like edge she had in her voice was gone and was replaced by a genuine feeling of concern. I sigh and say,

“Can we do it elsewhere without so many eyes?” Thalia looks to the rest of her huntresses and they nod so she nods back to me. I nod back and we agree to meet at one of the hills privately after dinner.

I go to our designated meeting area after leaving the mess hall, and wonder why I had that vision with Zeus earlier. She had to have known why I was like this right? I think to myself. A few moments later. Thalia comes from the bushes and smiles at me. I give her a thumbs up and she sits next to me.

“Crazy right?” She says breaking the silence. I nod and say

“Look I’m sorry for my outburst earlier I've just been in a bad headspace since I got here,”

“No, I get it. the scrutiny everyone has with watching you hoping you mess up I completely understand. Jason, Percy, me, and now you all feel it,” Thalia said contemplating.

“I just wish I could create some space where I could be me and not stand out ya know?” I responded somberly. Thalia nodded and eventually responded

“You remind me a lot of Jason. You are more reserved like he was but also I sense a hesitance in your presence that he never walked with. It's interesting,” she said. I smiled as we sat looking up at the stars silently just enjoying the time. Eventually, we go our separate ways and I turn in for the night.

After lunch, I found myself alone. The crowds that had been trailing me since my arrival had finally dispersed, and my friends were all busy catching up with their own family and friends. Thalia wouldn’t be arriving until tonight, so I couldn't meet her just yet. With time on my hands, I decided to explore the camp to get a better feel for it.

My wandering eventually led me to a secluded waterfall area. The serene sound of rushing water was a welcome contrast to the bustling camp. The air was cool and misty, and the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. I could sense the presence of others nearby, but no one approached me. I was content with the solitude until a feminine voice broke through the tranquil sound of the waterfall.

“You know it’s dangerous to be this far out alone. Anyone could do bad things to you.” The voice was calm yet carried an underlying authority.

I turned to see an older woman standing a few feet away. Her gaze was strikingly similar to Zeus's but carried a more "maternal" quality. Her presence was commanding yet oddly comforting.

“I like to think that I don’t invite that type of challenge,” I replied, meeting her gaze. “I try to put good in the world and hope to get good back.”

Her expression softened at my words. “I’ve never known a child of Zeus to be so introspective.”

“Well, not all of us can be reckless heroes like Jason, Perseus, Heracles, or the legendary Thalia,” I said with a hint of a smile, feeling a bit more at ease.

The woman’s gaze focused on me, her eyes searching. “Something tells me that’s not your style.”

I nodded. “Nope. I’d much rather enact a strategy that guarantees victory with minimal collateral damage. Huge battles usually mean no one truly wins.”

She smiled, a genuine warmth radiating from her. “May I see?” she asked, pointing to the camera hanging around my neck.

I shrugged and handed it to her. She carefully examined the photos, her eyes lighting up with appreciation. “You have quite the eye for capturing life in motion.”

I couldn’t help but grin with pride. “Thank you, Hera.”

Hera looked up at me, pleasantly surprised. “Hm, you’re smarter than you look,” she admitted, the atmosphere around her shifting from intense to gentle.

“I try my best,” I replied modestly.

“You’ve surprised me, DuVal. I thought you’d be like the rest of my husband’s children, but you’re not. Stay that way; it will serve you well.”

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely touched by her words. “I intend to.”

Hera handed back my camera and sat beside me on the rock, the sound of the waterfall creating a soothing backdrop. “Tell me, DuVal, what drives you? What makes you different?”

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, the roar of the waterfall filling the silence. “I think it’s the understanding that power isn’t just about strength. It’s about knowing when to use it and when to hold back. It’s about empathy and restraint.”

Hera nodded, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “A child of Zeus practicing restraint? You are truly an anomaly, DuVal. You remind me of the best parts of Zeus. His intelligence, his strategic mind... but you also have something more. A kindness, perhaps. Why is it that you share these qualities and the others don’t?”

I looked at her, trying to read the emotions behind her words. “I don’t know. For me, I’ve always been like this. Blame Ultraman, I guess. I appreciate the kind words, though. It’s been an interesting time these last few weeks reconciling with my mom.”

“Oh, that’s right. Zeus had you when he was a woman,” Hera recollected. “That was a peculiar time. I thought it a grand punishment and that he would learn respect for me. To some degree he did, but all it did was drive a wedge further between us. I suppose that’s what led to him or her, at the time, meeting your father.”

She smiled, a mix of pride, sorrow, and nostalgia in her expression. “I believe you are on the right path. And remember, DuVal, it’s not just about what you inherit but what you choose to become.”

As we sat there, I felt a strange sense of connection with Hera. Despite her initial antagonism, there was a bond forming—a mutual understanding and respect. The weight of her words settled over me, heavy yet reassuring.

“Sadly, that’s already been decided. I became a monster,” I said sadly, the reality of my past actions pressing down on me.

Hera’s head tilted, confused. “Why do you think that? Because you don’t have a place with them?” She gestured to the camp. “Just because you weren’t raised like they were doesn’t make you a monster. You move with a gentleness and wisdom that I don’t see others move with. Just earlier today, with the other daughter of Loki, you chose the softer path when you easily could have returned all the venom she sent you.”

“Ah, Cassandra isn’t bad, and besides, that would be begging for more bad to come my way,” I replied.

Hera smiled. “You’ve surprised me, DuVal. I thought you’d be like the rest of my husband’s children, but you’re not. Stay that way; it will serve you well.”

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely touched by her words. “I intend to.”

Hera’s eyes twinkled with a rare warmth. “You’ve earned it. Now, go and make the most of it.”

With that, she stood and began to walk away, leaving me with a renewed sense of purpose. As I watched her go, I knew that this moment had changed something fundamental in me. I wasn’t just the son of Zeus; I was my person, ready to forge my path.

Suddenly, Hera paused and turned back towards me, a contemplative look on her face. “DuVal, one more thing.”

“Yes?” I replied, curious about what else she had to say.

“Your perspective on avoiding unnecessary battles, on protecting others... that’s something I’ve seen too little of among the gods. It’s a quality that will make you a better leader and, perhaps, in time, a better god.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. The idea of becoming a god had always been an abstract concept, something far off and intangible. But hearing it from Hera made it feel more real, more possible, and honestly, the idea repulsed me.

“I’ll do my best to live up to that,” I said, my voice steady.

Hera nodded, satisfied. “I have no doubt you will.” With that, she turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving me alone with my thoughts. A little while later I walked back to the councilor’s cabin where a new camera and a note waited for me.

“A hero is more than the weapon they wield. A leader is more than those they control. If you are truly a monster then maybe a monster is needed to guide us out of the night and into the dawn.” I chuckled as I read the note before I heard Sejeong behind me.

“Ooh, what’s that ?” She asked noticing the camera

“A gift I think,” I responded

Sejeong smiled as she closed the distance between us “Ooh a gift from who?”

“Hera I think.” Sejeong laughs as she looks at the camera before handing it to me to add it to my bag.

“You love that camera bag huh,” Sejeong noted

“Why do you say that?”

“I never see you without it.”

“Well I have approximately 5 grand stored in here,” Sejeong eyes popped as she heard the number

“I understand then,” she said with a smile before removing said bag to pounce on me and bombard me with kisses. I happily accepted her advances and let her conduct her “affection train” on me. Her kisses began to shift from chaste to hungry.

Sejeong lifted her shirt revealing her breasts. They were remarkable as always I palm both and began to kiss her more but something was off. I could tell something was eating at her. Like she was forcing herself to do this. As if trying to find her footing, but she couldn’t,

“What’s wrong,” I asked

“It’s nothing. it’s just,” Sejeong started

“Cassandra?” I finished. Sejeong nodded

After she had enough, she cuddled next to me and asked a peculiar question, her voice barely above a whisper, “DuVal, am I a bad person?”

I looked into Sejeong's eyes, seeing the vulnerability and self-doubt reflected there. I understood what she meant by this, the weight of her lineage and the expectations placed upon her. I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully.

“Sejeong, due to the position you are in, absolutely not. You’ve been trying your best under difficult circumstances, and that’s all anyone can ask for. I understand,” I said softly, my voice steady with conviction.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned into me, seeking comfort. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly. “You are not a bad person, Sejeong. You have a kind heart, and you care deeply. That’s what matters.”

She sniffled, burying her face in my chest. “Thank you, Val. I needed to hear that.”

As we sat there, the room growing quieter, I felt a sense of finality settling over us. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hung in the air. This was the end of our romantic relationship, but not the end of our connection.

I gently lifted her chin, making her look into my eyes. “Sejeong, you’ll always have a special place in my heart. We may not be together in the same way, but I’ll always be here for you. As a friend, as someone who understands.”

She nodded, a small, sad smile forming on her lips. “I feel the same way, Val. Thank you for being here, for understanding.”

We sat in silence for a while, just holding each other. The unspoken promise of continued support and friendship lingered between us, a comforting presence amid our parting.

Eventually, she pulled away slightly, wiping her tears. “I should go,” she said softly. “But this isn’t goodbye.”

“No, it’s not,” I agreed, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll still see each other, still be there for each other.”

With one last hug, she got up and left the room. I watched her go, feeling a mixture of sadness and relief. This was the right decision, for both of us. As I sat alone, I took a deep breath, letting the emotions wash over me. This was the end of one chapter, but the beginning of another.

End of Part I

[loosesodamarble]

Papa's Favorite Shadow

Summary: Morgen is happy to know that despite their different attributes, he and his daughter Sable get along just fine. Genre: general, fluff Word count: ~650

..........

Morgen scanned the table and the supplies that had been laid out on the surface. Wire, beads of various colors, jewelry fastenings, tweezers, and pliers were neatly organized in sections on the table.

Morgen sat next to Sable, his eldest daughter, who had her brown hair pulled back in a voluminous ponytail. She gazed at the materials with eagerness and joy.

“So, Sable dearest, how many friends are you making these for?”

“All of them~!” was Sable’s chipper answer.

“Oh? And how many would that be?”

Morgen silently watched as Sable counted her fingers and muttered various names to herself. There were a few he recognized, such as the youngest daughter of House Vermillion and the triplet sons of House Silva. Others were completely new to him. And the number of names just kept rising as Sable counted.

All those children would be receiving a handmade friendship bracelet, if Sable’s plans panned out that is. And that’s where Morgen came in. With Josele away on a long-term mission, Morgen was the only one available to act as Sable’s helper in her task.

“Um… I think forty?” Sable concluded after her count.

“Goodness gracious! I don’t think I’ve had forty friends in my whole life! Where do you find them all?”

“Everywhere!” Sable exclaimed. Her smile was as bright as the sun.

Morgen loved that about Sable. He loved everything about his daughter. Despite her Shadow Magic, she was optimistic, friendly, and had only sweet intentions. She reminded Morgen of himself in his youth. Though he wasn’t as energetic as her, Morgen and Sable shared a love of life. That was enough to bring father and daughter together.

“Let’s hop to it,” Sable said and reached for a spool of beading wire.

“Yes, let’s begin.”

And so Sable and Morgen settled in for a long day of crafting bracelets for the many children Sable had made part of her life.

Morgen measured out the wire, testing lengths with Sable’s wrist to make sure they wouldn’t be too large or small. With the wires cut, he applied fasteners to one end of each piece. He didn’t quite have a hand for the delicate work of beading but Sable leaned over and said “it looks good enough. Keep going, Papa” to encourage him.

Another reason to love Sable. She was content like Josele was, never asking for more than what someone was or could offer.

“I really hope everyone likes them!” Sable giggled while beading with her bare hands.

“As do I. Your friends will surely—” Morgen paused to concentrate on keeping a bead pinched between tweezers and stringing it on a wire. “They’ll surely appreciate your kindness.”

Sable rocked her body from side-to-side and hummed a tune she had learned from Morgen. While hidden, her legs were surely kicking under the table too. Sable’s happiness was just too much to keep within her little body so it came out in these little gestures.

They worked for a while in silence. After a few bracelets were completed, Morgen turned to Sable.

“Say, where did this idea come from?” Morgen asked as he finished beading a bracelet. He picked up a fastener to affix to the wire’s end. “Making the bracelets that is.”

“Well I’ve been feeling really happy about my friends,” Sable started to explain. “I wanted to show them how much I like them. I first thought of writing ‘thank you’ letters. But then I realized I’m not good at writing.”

“No shame in acknowledging such a thing,” Morgen assured before giving Sable a kiss on her crown. “So then what?”

“Obviously, I decided to make something instead!” Sable raised up an incomplete bracelet to the light, making it sparkle. “Plus, people don’t carry around letters everyday but people can wear bracelets everyday!”

“That’s very true!”

“Now let’s hurry and finish them! For a Light Mage, Papa sure is slow!”

“Wha—? Sable, you wound me!”

Still, Morgen let out a chuckle and Sable laughed.

[horror--wh0re]

Coffee Pot and Kettle

CHAPTER 1

EVENTUAL SERIES

Pairing: S.H./fem!healthcare!reader

Warnings: KitchenBoy!Steve, swearing, pining, flirting, slow burn, fluff, use of Y/N but not often

WC: 833

AN: This is my first real fic and fic series, so please let me know if you want more! Always open and happy for suggestions and criticism. 

Masterlist - TBD

It wasn’t the best job. Plain and simple. If you were being honest with yourself, you only took the job because your mother wouldn’t get off your back about having a ‘big girl job’ with benefits. Eventually, after a few months, the job grew on you.

Activities Assistant, your name tag read, right below your first and last name along with the terrible colored logo of the company you work for. Not only was it a job completely outside your future career goals, your specific job was to entertain residents in the dementia and alzheimer's unit of a nursing home. A very less-than-glamorous job, one that would bring pity and a few cringed looks from anyone close that you told when you first accepted.

Whatever.

As the months went on, you actually got into the swing of things. Most of the residents were very sweet when they weren’t having one of their episodes. Some would participate in the activities you would do, like when you would play a very preschool version of soccer or used trivia flashcards. Others would just be content to watch as you built some crafts or made them all friendship bracelets. The only real difficult parts to deal with were when a resident had passed. You already lost a few within 6 months, two of them you had really bonded with. But you still had responsibilities and other residents to entertain and care for.

The next resident you couldn’t help but attach yourself to was Ms. Baker. Due to the disease, and the fact that you won over her affection, she often thought you were her youngest and favorite daughter. ‘Debbie Jean’, she called you. Even though it was no where near being your name, you liked it. It meant she was happy to see you.

“Ms. Baker, would you like some coffee?” You asked her every morning.

“Sure! I’m not goin’ anywhere.” She chuckled, as if talking about a shot of hard liquor. Her phrasing made you smile as you went to pour from the pot you got from the kitchen’s breakfast pot. “Make sure there’s sugar in it, Debbie!”

“Yes, Ms. Baker.” You nodded. That woman needed about 10 packets of sugar per mug, or else she said she couldn’t taste anything.

The main thing you noticed with residents, not just Ms. Baker, is how much coffee they actually drink. Some could drink tea too, but it wasn’t the beloved (decaffeinated) coffee. Either they’ve forgotten how much they already drank or they don’t care, one small coffee pot in the morning was definitely not enough. Ms. Baker alone could empty that pot in less than two hours, and you had a whole day to fill.

“Sharon, I’m gonna get some more coffee from the kitchen.” You alerted the unit’s Nurse of where you were going. She nodded, moving to go and sit with the residents. They couldn’t be left alone, just in case. Carrying the empty pot from earlier, you headed down into te building’s basement where the kitchen was hidden.

Opening the door and heading in the kitchen, the steam of the dishwashers and cleaning machines warmed your face. Not that you’d see, but it added a rosy tint to your cheeks. It would have been relaxing if not for the loud bashing and clanking of plates being stacked and boxes being moved. The kitchen employees looked too busy to even notice you, and you didn’t want to be rude. You debated turning around and coming back in a few minutes when a voice greeted you.

“Can I help you with something, hun?”

You turned to the source, and your mouth went dry. Your eyes locked with friendly and enchanting brown ones.

“Uh.. coffee? Can I get some– it’s for the residents, upstairs.” You felt the need to explain yourself.

“Of course!” He smiled again, making your stomach twist. He gently took the empty pot from your hands and walked over to the machines to dispense you some more.

“I’m, I’m Y/N, I’m from the Activities Department.” You introduced yourself. Sure, you just saw a smoking hot guy within your reach, but you weren’t rude. “I’m always on the dementia unit.”

“That’s so cool!” He turned his head to you as he talked. “I’m Steve. Obviously, I’m slavin’ away in here.”

“Right, I see.” You let out a small, quiet laugh. He was dressed in a simple white T-shirt and dark pants, fluffy brown hair whisping out from the underside of his cap. The outfit was nothing special, but it somehow added to the boyish charm you were getting off of him. All too soon, your pot was full of hot, fresh coffee for your people.

“Alright, here you go!” He handed it to you and offered another award-winning smile.

“Thank you. I’ll see you around.”

“You will!” He promised. You walked away and out of the kitchen with the teensiest bit of pep in your step, in a much better mood than this morning.

[kissingwookiees]

essentially just got paid 15 bucks an hour to watch ghibli movies, love that for me.

[haleyboook]

Tony’s widow

Set during she-hulk, Tony Stark’s widow has been hiding out in Mexico with Bruce Banner ever since her husband died. Unable to accept his death she remains isolated with her two children and sister. When she meets Jennifer and finds out that her blood helped heal Bruce’s arm, suddenly she grows interested.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“This is where I spent the blip fixing myself and integrating the Hulk-Banner identities.”

“In this tiny beach house lab?”

“I wouldn’t call it tiny.” I say as I stand at the door with Ani, Antonia, my youngest rested on my hip.

She spins around to look to me and says “Who are you?”

I shake my head saying “Man, I need to get the baby weight off. I used to be so known and recognizable. I’m y/n, y/n stark.”

Her eyes widen and Bruce says “Hey.”

I nod to him and he looks to his cousin saying “Tony built this for me a few years ago. Tony Stark, her husband.”

“Oh, right, right, right.” 

I step inside of the lab as Bruce explains “He used to joke that I was a loaner, and that one day he’d just swing by and take it back.”

I lightly nod and say “He only said that so you’d actually use it and not feel guilty taking it. It was always yours, Bruce.”

He smiles to me saying “I see you’ve brought Ani, she looks so much like him.” 

I nod saying “I know. It’s the eyes. Haunting sometimes. I love her, so much, but she has Tony’s eyes and that’s so hard to handle sometimes.”

I look over to Jen, Bruce’s cousin and say “You okay?”

She looks to Bruce confused saying “Wait, did we hit a spaceship?”

Bruce nods saying “Yeah. Sakaaran Class-Eight courier craft. They’re probably trying to deliver a message. I gotta look into that. You know, weird stuff just kinda finds you when you’re a hulk. But first we gotta deal with you.” 

She shakes her head saying “Me? What happened to me?” 

I make a face and shrug as she says “I changed.”

I look to Bruce and he says “Look, I’m sorry. I tried to warn you. My blood got into your system, and after the wreck, you got a lethal dose of gamma radiation.”

“Lethal?! As in I’m gonna die?”

I smack Bruce and he says “Ow... No! There is more to it... I uh... that I’m going to explain.” 

She hits his arm and says “That is not the sentence to take a pause on, Bruce!”

I smile at her feisty-ness and nod. She says “What? Why is she nodding?”

Bruce looks to me and says “Okay. Just look at your blood samples okay? You and I, we share a rare combination of genetic factors that allows us to synthesize gamma radiation into somethin’ else.” 

“So I turn into the Hulk now, too.”

Ani sneezes as she wakes up and I say “Sorry. Yeah, kinda..”

Bruce says “I’ve been analyzing your blood. And the way it synthesized gamma, I was able to use it to completely heal my arm.”

I perk up at that and she says “Oh. Because I’m better than you?” 

Bruce shakes his head saying “Mmmmm, it’s basically different.” 

“In a better way.” 

Bruce shakes his head saying “In conclusion, my arm is healed and now I’m able to be my fully integrated self again.”

“Smug hulk.”

I look over to the vials of blood beside me and I look to Bruce and Jen walking away from me. 

“Smart Hulk.” 

“Well, it’s pretty smug to call yourself smart.”

I begin to tune them out as I slip two vials of Jen’s blood into my pockets. 

I turn towards them as Bruce turns back around, grabbing the vials and saying “Now that I’ve actually analyzed your blood samples...” 

He begins destroying the vials and I feel minor anger spark inside of me. 

Jen shakes her head saying “A bit dramatic.” 

Bruce says “It’s way too dangerous to get out in the world, even if there’s only a millionth percent chance that it makes another one of us.” 

Ani starts crying and they look to me. I say “Sorry. I should go find Morgan and leave you two be while I get Ani down for a nap.”

Bruce says “Do you need any help?”

I smile to him and say “Thank you, Bruce. I’ve got it though.”

I leave the lab and Jen watches Bruce watch me leave and she says “Oh my god.”

He looks over to her quickly saying “What?”

“You’re in love with her!” 

Bruce scoffs saying “I am not! She’s a good friend!”

“No... you don’t watch someone leave like that if you’re only friends! You’re in love with her! You’re nearly drooling! Dude she literally has two kids.”

Bruce shakes his head saying “You could not be any farther off!”

Jen smiles and says “You wanna play house with Tony Stark’s widow and kids. Huh.. interesting.”

Bruce grumbles saying “I don’t. She’s my friend, and I owe it to Tony to look after her and help her.”

Jen nods and says “And maybe enjoy her company a little too much. How’d she even know we were here?”

Bruce sighs saying “She’s been staying here, away from the media and world. Ever since Tony’s funeral. I took her here. She couldn’t handle the public and other people.”

“That’s not healthy, Bruce, isolating yourself, that much...it’s not healthy. I get she’s grieving..”

He glares at her saying “Leave her alone. Let her grieve how she wants. Tony loved her so much, she meant everything to him. I can only imagine it’s mutual with her.”

Jen nods and I continue towards the guest house, Friday saying “Mrs. Stark.”

“Not now.”

“Mrs. Stark, I don’t know what you wish to achieve with Miss Jennifer’s blood sample, but I don’t recommend using it.”

I shake my head saying “I don’t want your opinion. Begin running tests on it. Make duplicates. Pull apart every factor within it. I know there’s a way to reverse death and gamma damage. It recovered Bruce’s arm easily.”

“Yes, Mrs. Stark. I have to remind you that Mr. Stark, is gone and can’t-”

“Shut up!” I snap as I hear my voice echo. I sigh as I feel the tears well up. I shake my head saying “Don’t ever tell me he’s gone or dead again.”

“Yes, Mrs. Stark. Starting the process now.”

I push the vials into the machine and sigh as I set Ani down in her crib and see Morgan playing outside in the sand with my sister. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

wooooahhh new story! Do you guys like it? Got the idea and I needed to write it out! I just watched the most first episode of she-hulk and oh my god all the mentions of steve and tony were killing me! 

Comment if you’d like to be tagged!

[sturchling]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a story of marinette moving to Gotham.

And going to gotham academy and having her own boutique. Damienette pairing. Cat noir salt. You dont have to if u dont want too.

Sorry for the long wait, work has been keeping me super busy lately. I hope you like this and it was worth the wait! I had a hard time trying to work in the Chat Noir salt, so its more like Adrien salt. Let me know what you think!

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Marinette was tired of Lila and her lies. She was tired of Adrien’s refusal to help defend her from the liar. And she was tired of everyone believing the liar over Marinette. Most of the school now believed that Marinette was a horrible bully that had been attacking Lila since she arrived. Marinette had been removed as class rep and was constantly given detention by Mr. Damocles. Marinette’s parents have been very supportive, and now realized that Lila was just a malicious liar. But even with their support, it had become to much for Marinette and she knew it was time to leave Paris.

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Her parents were hesitant when she brought up the idea. Marinette had found a study abroad program where she could attend Gotham academy, hosted by Bruce Wayne himself. She discussed it with her parents, really hoping to convince them. They were obviously concerned for a number of reasons. The main one being the crime rate in Gotham. They knew that Marinette needed to get away from Paris, that things had gotten bad in the city for her. But they didn’t want to send her to a dangerous city where she could be hurt or killed. But after speaking with Marinette for several hours, they started to realize how excited Marinette was for the opportunity. While they were still worried, they knew this was the right place for Marinette. And they were comforted that if she was accepted, she would be hosted by and staying with Bruce Wayne. His manor is one of the safest places in the city. So, they agreed with Marinette that she could apply the program.

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So Marinette applied to the study abroad program. She didn’t tell anyone at the school, not like anyone in the class was speaking to her anyway. She waited anxiously for news from the program, hoping to hear that she had been accepted.  The longer she didn’t hear anything, the more anxious she became. She was sure that she had been rejected and they just hadn’t told her. Marinette had just got back from a particularly bad day at school, when she noticed she had a new email. An email from the study abroad program. She raced to open the email, and started cheering when she read the line We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Gotham Academy Study Abroad Program. Marinette raced downstairs and told her parents the news. The email said that she would be expected in Gotham by the end of the month. It went on to explain details of the program. That night the Dupain-Cheng family celebrated, and began preparing for Marinette’s departure. 

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The last month of Marinette’s time in Paris seemed to drag on and on. Everyday she had to listen to Lila’s lie all day long and the whole class fawn over here. She had to endure Lila accusing her of bullying almost daily and almost daily detentions. But finally, it was her final day at the Dupont. She was almost giddy as she walked to Mr. Damocles’ office with her parents. When she entered the office and Mr. Damocles saw her, he just sighed. “What did you do now Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Then he saw her parents in the office and straightened up. “I didn’t do anything Mr. Damocles. I never did anything Lila accused me of, but I know you will never believe me on that. We are just here to get my academic records and inform you that I will no longer be attending this school after today.” Mr. Damocles was flustered by the sudden declaration. “What do you mean you won’t be attending anymore? Where are you going?” Mr. Dupain stepped forward, barely containing his contempt for this man who had been helping to make his daughter miserable. “Marinette will be studying abroad in America for the next year at least. Now, give us the academic records.” Mr. Damocles stuttered for a while, wondering how such a bully got accepted to such an amazing program. But soon, the Dupain-Chengs got the records from him and were on their way.

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 Marinette went down to the locker room with her parents and started emptying her locker. Class hadn’t started yet so, everyone was still in the locker room. They were confused when Marinette started emptying her locker. Adrien, who was about the only  person that still talked to Marinette from time to time, approached the young designer. “Marinette? What are you doing?” Marinette didn’t look at any of them, continuing to empty her locker as she responded. “I am emptying my locker. Starting Monday, I will no longer be here for school. I am transferring to Gotham Academy.” The class stood in shock, they never expected Marinette to leave. Sure they were happy that Lila would be able to come to school in peace, but it would be weird without Marinette here. They just stood in shocked silence, as Marinette finished with her locker and walked out with her parents. 

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Adrien was shocked by Marinette’s decision. Why would she leave? He knew things had been tough for her lately, but he had kept telling her that it would get better soon. Soon the class would realize that Lila was a liar. That she just had to wait a little longer. But Marinette had clearly given up and was running away. That wasn’t like Marinette at all. When he had the chance, Adrien was going to go pay her a visit in Gotham and convince her to return. 

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Marinette was already loving Gotham. She had been met at the airport by Alfred who brought her to the manor. Mr. Wayne was very nice and introduced her to his children as well. Marinette was the same age as Damian and would be in the same class as him as well. Damian had expected to be irritated by this girl when he was first informed of their guest. But to his surprise, he didn’t find her presence as repulsive as everyone else. 

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Weeks went by and Marinette was having a wonderful time. She had made some wonderful friends in her class, though she was nervous to try and make friends after Mrs. Bustier’s class. But she was welcomed warmly by her new class. Her and Damian had also grown close over the weeks. They had started dating recently, and would often spend their time together quietly working on their different craft projects; Marinette working on her designs, and Damian working on his most recent painting. The Waynes were shocked at the change Marinette had caused in the youngest Wayne. Damian was still a very reserved person, but he was considerably warmer to Marinette and had started to act warmer to his family as well. 

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While Marinette wasn’t aware of it, her departure brought about Lila’s downfall. Lila hadn’t been at school recently, on a ‘diplomatic trip to Achu’, and because of that, she didn’t know Marinette left Paris. So when she came back, she was planning on making her next attack against Marinette’s reputation. She used makeup to make fake bruises and called up her tears as she entered the classroom. The class was horrified to see their friend crying and injured. They raced forward and asked Lila what happened. “It was horrible. As soon as I returned to the city last night, Marinette was waiting for me outside my home. She was so mad that she got detention for a week when I told Mr. Damocles that she had stolen my book. She beat me up and said if I ever said anything I would regret it! I am so scared!” Lila was proud of this performance. It was probably one of her best performances yet. But when she looked up at the class, she was surprised to see that the class was staring at her doubtfully. 

-------------------

Alya, feeling dread in her stomach, asked “Are you sure it was Marinette last night? No chance it was someone else?” Lila, irritated that they were questioning her, didn’t notice the tension in the room. “Of course it was Marinette. I saw her face and there is no way it was anyone else last night.” Nino, who was now realizing that this could mean that Marinette was right and that Lila was a liar, asked “What do you mean Marinette attacked you last night? Marinette moved to Gotham almost two weeks ago. She couldn’t have attacked you last night.”  Now Lila was horrified. This was a major mistake. Lila was trying to back pedal, and figure a way out of this mess, but the class had realized at this point that Lila was lying and that she had probably been lying before when Marinette was still here. The class started to yell at Lila as they realized that she had been lying to them all this time. Lila raced from the room, not wanting to face the class. The class quickly tried to reach out to Marinette, to apologize and ask her to come home, but the number they had for her had been disconnected. Adrien was disappointed that Marinette hadn’t told anyone her new number, not even him. He was going to go to Gotham soon and try to convince her to come back. He was sure their Everyday Ladybug would be willing to come back.

-----------------

One day, weeks after Lila’s exposure, Damian and Marinette were sitting in the garden just relaxing. After watching Marinette work on a new design, Damian said, “Marinette, you should really try to open a boutique. Your work is terrific and you would be very successful.” Marinette seemed shocked for a moment. “You really think I should? I wouldn’t even know where to start. And how would I afford a building? I don’t think I could do it.” Marinette continued to anxiously ramble, until Damian came to stand in front of Marinette. “Marinette, Angel, breathe. I am sure you would do wonderfully. And as for the building, my father has multiple buildings in the city that he isn’t using. I am sure he would allow you to set up in one of them.” After more convincing, Marinette agreed to at least ask Bruce about it. When they approached Bruce, he was very willing to help Marinette set up her first boutique. He had seen the girl’s designs and knew that she would be a major success. Marinette felt bad about just taking one of his buildings and accepting his help with getting everything she needed for the boutique, but she accepted when Bruce told her to consider it a loan if that made her more comfortable. Then, they immediately started setting up her boutique.

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After about a month, everything was set up and Marinette’s boutique had opened under the name MDC. She was an instant success and quickly became very busy with several orders from big name clients. As time went on, Marinette began to feel like Gotham was her home. One day, after she had closed the boutique and was leaving with Damian to go on a date, they were approached by a familiar face. “Adrien?” Adrien smiled and approached her. “Hi Marinette.” Damian sensing the tension, stepped closer to Marinette. “Who is this Marinette?” Adrien looked at the boy standing next to Marinette and didn’t recognize him at all. “Damian, this is Adrien, someone I knew in Paris. Adrien, this is my boyfriend Damian.” That took Adrien by surprise, but he moved past it. He was sure that Marinette would leave this Damian and come back to Paris where she belonged.

----------------

“So what are you doing here Adrien?” Adrien smiled again, “I am here to bring you home Marinette! Lila has been found out and she is gone. You don’t have to keep hiding here in Gotham. You can come home and back to the class. Everything can go back to normal.” Marinette just stared at him, as Damian started to get angry. Adrien didn’t pick up on the tension. “So come on. Lets go get your things. We can fly back to Paris in the morning.” Adrien tried to grab her arm, but Marinette moved back, avoiding him. “I’m sorry Adrien, but I’m not going back. I am really happy here. I still have months with the study abroad program and may stay here permanently if I can. I have friends who wouldn’t leave me for a liar. Damian is here. And my boutique is doing really well. I am not ready to go back to Paris.” Adrien just rolled his eyes. “Come on Marinette, you have friends in Paris, and you can set up a new boutique in Paris. Its no big deal. So come on, lets go.” Adrien once again tried to grab at Marinette’s arm, this time Damian got in his way and shoved him back. “Marinette said she didn’t want to go with you so that is that. You should go now, you have embarrassed yourself enough.” Adrien glared at Damian, angry that he was getting in his way. “I am not leaving. Not until Marinette tells me to, so stay out of this.” Marinette stepped out from behind Damian, looking more confident then Adrien ever remembered seeing her. “Adrien you should leave. I am happy here and I am not going back to Paris. My ‘friends’ in Paris turned their backs on me because of the liar’s pretty words. My friends here would never do that to me. Now please leave.” Adrien was shocked, and didn’t move. Damian rolled his eyes and guided Marinette around Adrien and back to the manor.

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Adrien went back to Paris, alone, the day after his conversation with Marinette. He was surprised that Marinette wouldn’t come back with him. Mrs. Bustier’s class was sad when Adrien came back without Marinette. They had hoped she would come back, but unlike Adrien, they knew the chances were slim. While they were sad that Marinette was gone and that they had chased off such a good friend, they were happy that she had found a place that she could live happily. They tried to move on, hoping that one day they may get the chance to apologize to Marinette in person. 

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Marinette stayed in Gotham after her conversation with Adrien. She finished her year with the study abroad program and then decided to live in Gotham permanently, with her parents blessing. She continued to stay at the manor, living happily with the Waynes. She continued using the horse miraculous to go back and forth to Paris for the akumas and soon revealed her identity to the Waynes once she realized they were the Batfam. Her boutique continued to be a major success. Her life had improved in every way it could. She was surrounded by true friends, she had a boyfriend who truly cared for her, her fashion business had started with great success, and she didn’t have to deal with the liar anymore. She was the happiest she had been in a long time, and she intended to be this happy for the rest of her life in Gotham.