#target reader: hades

[voice-of-desire]

>Oof, hey Desi, don't think the lil lump over my shoulder- Spectra went into sleep m...

>...Oh no... what happened?

< Hades, @056-hades >

H̸u̶h̵.̶.̸.̶?̴!̷ 😨⁉️

Oh, 😶 uhm... S̶o̶r̷r̵y̸, 🙏🙇😓 sweeth̸e̶a̵r̵t̴.̸ ❤️‍🔥🦊🔥💋💘💞 I'm—h̷̨̓i̵̻͠c̸͈͘ 😖—f̶i̸n̸e̵, 🫠👍 I just...

I, um, got a bit t̷o̷o̸ e̴x̴c̴i̸t̶e̸d̵ 🤏📈😁❗️ when I realized 👀❕️ Obby ❤️‍🔥—Observer 👁💊🖥 had w̶o̶k̴e̷n̷ up 😴🆙️ and I s̶p̷o̶o̵k̷e̷d̸ 🥶😰 them, I think. 😕 Just got h̸i̵s̸s̸e̶d̴ ̴a̷t̴ 🐈‍⬛️🤬💢🗯 a little, 🤏 that's a̵l̷l̷.̸.̴.̷ 😅

... Apparently ❔️ they've, eh, r̵e̷v̵e̶r̷t̵e̴d̵ ⏪️⏳️↩️ to some sort 🤔 of "1̷.̴0̶" 👁1️⃣ form? They... ❤️‍🔥👁💋💘💞 d̸o̸n̸'̴t̵ ̸r̵e̶m̸e̷m̶b̷e̶r̶ ̷m̵e̴.̷.̴.̷ 🧠💭❌️️‍❤️‍🔥🥲

[devotedfem]

Persephone

Jungkook, also known as Hades the king of underworld, has to run a company on earth to watch over his future soul targets. What he didn't expect though, was to see you; a beautiful and ethereal girl who grows flowers wherever she sets a foot. The dark urge to take you was strong enough to blind his judgment, making him want to steal you from Demeter and go to war with Olympus itself.

Jungkook x f. reader

3.5k words.

Genre: Hades and persephone au | yander-ish.

Tags: Possessive behavior, retelling of persephone and hades, captivity, Jungkook is infatuated and whipped for reader, reader is bubbly and innocent, smut, kidnapping but it's kind of consensual, grumpy x sunshine type of trope, fluff.

Permanent taglist | patreon for extra content.

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Your wide and radiant eyes took in the sight in front of you; a beautiful garden near a big and grey building that made you part your lips in awe, you’ve never seen the human world before, everything was so different from your home in the Olympus. Your bared feet touched the grass with delight, you inhaled deep, frowning a little at the bitter taste of the air here.

The ground below you grow flowers every time you set a foot on it, as if nature was welcoming you in with tender love.

You stopped at the sign standing tall at the entrance of the beautiful garden. You tilted your head to the side, remembering your reading classes with the nymphs.

PRIVATE PROPERTY: it says in red. But you shrugged, not sure what it means by private, the garden was big and open, not to mention that mother nature is not the property of anyone but herself. You walked pass the sign without any care in the world, brushing softly the petals of the flowers growing tall below your feet.

Your mother was too overprotective over you, so much that it reached an unbearable point. She always says that you’re safe only in the Olympus and under her care, that the land of the humans was too dangerous for a goddess like you. Your curiosity for the outside world was stronger than the fear she instills in you. That’s why you’re here, visiting the earth behind her back. It will just for a couple of minutes, and then you will return home safe and sound.

You kneel on the grass, picking flowers while the breeze moves your long hair, unknowing that you were being watched.

Jungkook stood tall in front of the large window glass of his office that stretch from the ceiling to the floor. He had his hands in his pockets, and his breath was taken away by the sight of a stunning girl in his company’s gardens, picking flowers as if she was fucking Cinderella.

He’s known for having an iron grip and being ruthless with anyone who dares to disrespect him and his territory. Invading his property as if it were a public park was reason enough to have you on your knees begging for forgiveness. He doesn’t tolerate people that acts out of line, that’s why everyone in this building and in the underworld flinch with terror at the very sight of him.

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side when he caught the sight of flowers growing from your touch, you looked ethereal and otherworldly in his garden surrounded by flowers, as if you were in your element. He couldn’t take his dark eyes off you, feeling captivated by your beauty.

His brows knitted in a deep frown, who are you? And what are you doing here? He didn’t know about any goddess or semi-goddess that grows flowers besides Demeter, and she didn't have a daughter that he knows of.

His gaze burned on you so intently that you felt it, lifting your chin up to look at him from your spot. And you did something that took him by surprise, you waved a hand at him with a bright and sweet smile on your face, making Jungkook inhale sharp at the gesture. You looked so beautiful smiling so brightly, it made Jungkook’s pupils dilate in a predatory way.

He swallows hard, his fists clenching in his pocket with the urge to grab. You, the Cinderella girl, are not aware of the darkness that you have just awakened, triggering something deep and primal within Jungkook.

“Bring her up to my office,” he barked an order to the quiet assistant from behind him without looking away from you. The woman shriek at his voice, “now!” he screamed turning around to throw daggers at her, making the poor assistant run away to get to you.

He licked his pierced bottom lip when you kept picking flowers unaware of the predator hovering over you, ready to pounce at its prey. But first, he’ll find out who you are and what are you doing here, fragile and innocent, in a world full of evil beings and humans.

You won’t be out of his sight until he figured you out.

The office lights flickered and the temperature dropped suddenly, turning the place into a fridge. Jungkook’s eyes turned deep blue when his assistant took you by surprise, almost dragging you inside of his building. He blinked quickly with a frown, his emotions were getting the best of him and he wasn’t sure why, when he gets carried away like this by his instincts, his powers get out of control too. But no one has control over his emotions besides himself, let alone a Cinderella girl like you.

That’s why he wanted to know you, and why did you have a certain effect on him.

He turned around when you entered his office, sucking in a quick breath when he noticed that you are even more beautiful this close. You were glowing with your beautiful sundress and bright aura in his dull and dark office, a strong contrast.

“Wow, this place is so big,” you said in awe, looking to your surroundings with wide and curious eyes. And then you spotted Jungkook staring at you from afar.

You walked quickly towards him erasing the distance between you two, making Jungkook frown, taking him by surprise, no one else has ever approached him by their own will, people were too scared of him to do that. But you weren’t scared at all, not with that big and open smile of yours.

“Oh, hi there! You’re the man that was looking at me?” you asked him when you were close enough, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Your voice was soft and innocent, and your eyes glinted with wonder.

“Yes, you’re lucky I'm in a good mood today so I don't have you rotting in my cell in the underworld for trespassing on my territory," he mocked, arching an eyebrow in disdain. You were so lucky to be this pretty, or else he would’ve thrown you to a dungeon deep in the underworld long ago.

You blinked confused, tilting your head to the side. Your gaze was wide and hesitate.

“Your territory…? But- it’s mother’s nature territory! The grass and the flowers belong to herself only!” you remarked with a frown, as if he was the odd one and not you.

Jungkook lifted his brows and snorted with disbelief, he was for the first time in his immortal life at loss of words. You truly did act like a princess from a fairy tale, it amused him.

“I don’t know from what fairy tale or fantasy world you came from, but as long as I bought this building, its territory and garden you step in belongs to me,” he growled with his eyes glowing blue again, you were triggering his worst emotions. Jungkook’s assistant gasped with fear at that sight, terrified of her boss mood.

But instead of scaring you too, it made you look at him with surprise.

“Your eyes,” you whispered in awe, “you’re handsome.” And with those simple words you disarmed him, melting Jungkook’s anger away.

He let out a small cough to hide his surprise, he didn’t like to be taking aback, but with you it was impossible not to be.

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest, roaming his dark eyes over your body from head to toe, frowning when he noticed you were bared-foot.

“Who are you?” he asked flicking his gaze up at you, “Where did you come from? And what are you doing in my territory?” His voice lowered an octave, sounding intimidating enough to make you avert your eyes with unease.

You played a little with your fingers, not looking into his eyes. He didn’t like to see you nervous or insecure, regretting for a second speaking to you like that. But he shook those thoughts away, you didn’t deserve a different treatment from any other intruder.

“I can’t tell you.” You muttered tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with uncertainty.

He narrowed his eyes at you, clenching his jaw and feeling his patience running thin.

“Do you want me to force you?” He threatened, and the temperature of the office dropped again, making you flinch and hug yourself.

Your eyes widened with fear flashing on them for the first time, and Jungkook for some reason hate the sight.

He sighed composing himself, pinching the bridge of his nose to not lash out on you. He just couldn’t bear to see any hint of fear in your pretty and innocent eyes.

“Are you in danger?” He asked more calmly this time.

Your features softens, shaking your head.

“No, I- escaped from home, I’m not from earth, I’m like you.”

That intrigued Jungkook even more.

“Then you’re from the Olympus?” He asked, and you nodded at his words. “Do you know who am I?” He worded it with caution, and you shook your head again.

That was the reason of why you weren’t scared of him, everyone who knows him is aware of the power he holds in the underworld, it wasn’t something to take lightly.

“You don’t look like a bad person,” you muttered.

Jungkook hold his breath sharply. No being or soul told him those words in his entire lifetime.

“What?”

“I think you’re grumpy but not bad.” You said innocently, as if you’re words didn’t cut deep within Jungkook. You were the first person that treat him this lightly, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.

Jungkook remained silent for a minute, staring at you, thinking what to do with you. You are a hidden and unknown goddess, unaware of the world, which means that you were locked up and hidden away for a reason. For all he knows you can be a piece to jeopardize the Olympus. And he also wants to know why your presence is so triggering for him.

“You will stay at my place tonight, it’s too late for you to be wandering around on your way to Olympus. I’ll get you there tomorrow safely,” he said it as a suggestion but it was an order, and you noticed, frowning and hesitating.

“But-“

“I said it’s too late and dangerous for you. Do you want to get hurt being all by yourself out there?” His eyes glowed blue again, the temperature dropping and his patience running thin. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes and breathing deep to compose himself, his emotions were getting the better of him.

“How do you do that? Turning your eyes blue, I mean.” You asked with awe, looking at him with wonder flashing your big and innocent eyes. That made him smile a little, melting his anger away. You were too cute for your own good.

“Let’s say a few people can make me do that when they get under my skin,” he teased, making you giggle.

That night he brought you to his house, a place that was sacred for him, that no one else besides him and his shadow has stepped a foot in. It’s almost alarming how you’re becoming the exception of many rules in his life. He throws that thought at the back of his mind to worry about it another time.

You were like a child watching and experiencing the world for the first time. You have this euphoric-like wonder about all the things surrounding you, convincing him even more about you being a princess out of a fairy tale. He just stared at you in silence, with his hands in his pockets and a little smile curling on his lips. Thank God no one was around to see him this whipped.

But then, his pet from the underworld chose to make an appearance in that moment, and Jungkook assume that it will scare you away. After all, it is a big black dog with three heads, who wouldn’t be afraid of that beast?

You weren’t though. You took him again by surprised when you cooed at his beast-dog, walking towards it as if it was a fucking kitten or puppy.

“Be careful, he’s a beast from the-“ His words were cut off by the supposed “dangerous” beast from the underworld barking playfully and happily at you, wagging his big tail as if it was a fucking puppy and not a beast from the hell itself.

Jungkook shook his head with disappointment, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the scene before him with disbelief. You were petting the dogs’ heads softly, ignoring its dangerous and frightening built.

“Okay that’s enough,” he said pulling you away from his beast, making you pout and making the dog whimper. Jungkook throw a threatening gaze towards it, shutting its whimpers. “Behave like the beast you are,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be mean he’s just a puppy, even if he’s big, he has feelings!” Jungkook arched a brow at your words. He? Since when his beast was a he? But you were walking away from him before he could ask you. You were going to his kitchen.

You were eating all of his candy and sweet treats, saying things like the nymphs from back home only cook you healthy meals. He mentally noted that blurt of new information; you were under the care of nymphs in the Olympus, isolated and ignorant about the outside world.

He took you to the guest room where you’ll spend the night, leaving you a change of clothes.

Jungkook sighed once he was in his bedroom, stretching his neck and massaging his temples. He was too tired, drained by the events from today. You were a lot for him, your mere existence felt like a threat to his routine and comfort zone. He just can’t figure out the effect you have on him, like a spell. Maybe you were a witch?

He fell asleep with those thoughts running his mind, dreaming about dark flowers and black trees growing in the underworld, with a beautiful queen dressed in a purple gown eating pomegranate seeds.

Jungkook woke up suddenly, sitting on his bed with his breath labored and his naked chest covered in cold sweat. Something woke him up, and that something was you, sleeping next to him snugly without any care in the world. He frowned at your audacity, waking you up. You blinked your sleepy eyes open, looking up at him with a frown.

“What the fuck are you doing in my bed?” He barked, sounding meaner than he intended.

For the first time you looked embarrassed, your cheeks turned red and you didn’t meet his eyes, playing with your fingers above the sheets.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be inappropriate. It’s just that I always sleep with the nymphs back home, I’m not used to sleep alone, and-and this place is so… dark and I was a little bit scared,” you said in a quiet and thin voice, avoiding eye contact.

You just had melted Jungkook’s rotten heart, making him soften his gaze, breaking his defenses.

“Okay, you can sleep here but just for tonight,” he said with a sigh, ignoring your chirp sound of happiness.

That night he didn’t sleep at all.

And that wasn’t the only night you two sleep together, you were warming the left side of his bed for one week. And it wasn’t awkward or weird at first.

Until one night. You were tossing and turning around in your sleep, and Jungkook ignored it, thinking you were just having a bad dream. Until you moaned softly, making him widen his eyes and inhale sharp. The sound was high-pitched but soft, stirring something inside of Jungkook. But he, again, chose to ignore it, trying to fall asleep.

“Jungkook,” you whimpered his name, turning around until your chest faced his back, panting near the back of his head.

And in that moment, he snaps. After all he was just a man, one with urges and needs. And it happens that you awake all of the dangerous instincts within him.

He turned around, facing you. He inhaled sharp at the sight of your plump parted lips letting out soft moans, and your pretty face covered in cold sweat. Your brows were slightly frowned, and your sounds were too sweet for him to bear.

“Y/n…” he woke you up gently, making you blink your eyes open with confusion. “You were having a good dream?” That made you blush profusely, but you didn’t avert your eyes from him, even though you were embarrassed.

“I dreamed about you,” you whispered softly, with that glint of innocence in your eyes.

He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes to not lose control of his urges.

“Sweetheart, be careful, it’s too late and you don’t know what you’re saying-“

You interrupted him by getting closer to him. An inch separating both of your bodies.

“I want to experience what I dream, with you. I’ve never done that before and I want to.”

He was taken aback by how a sweet mouth can say such sinful words and make them sound innocent.

“Do you know what you’re asking for? If… we do this, there’s no going back. You’ll be mine, all of you. I am a very possessive man y/n, you have no idea,” his voice dropped an octave and his words sounded like a warning of something you should be aware of, but you never listen.

The air around you two turned thick, and Jungkook’s heavy and piercing stare made you feel goosebumps. It was intoxicating being near him, the thrill of danger rushing your veins turned you on. You reached a hand towards his cheek, stroking with your thumb the skin under his eye softly, making him close his eyes with a blissed-out expression, he put his big hand above yours. He was like a dangerous beast being treated with gentleness for the first time.

“I don’t mind belonging to you.” And with those simple words Jungkook snapped his eyes open, looking at you like a predator ready to pounce its prey.

That was the last straw for his self-control, he warned you but you didn’t listen. Now there was no turning back.

The temperature of the room dropped, and Jungkook’s eyes glowed with a blazing blue color, taking your breath away. A dark aura wrapped the both of you, and you knew it has something to do with Jungkook’s change of mood.

He kneels above you, caging your body with his legs and hands. His piercing gaze never leaves you, pinning you like a predator that won’t lose sight of its target. His hand wander on your body, making your breath quicken and your heart pound. He took away your clothes softly, tearing apart your underwear when it got stuck in your knees, making you giggle. He took off his jogger right after leaving you naked under him.

His hungry eyes roamed your body, devouring with his eyes every part and every corner of your body, drinking in the view to save the image for later. You felt your cheeks heating up with embarrassment and desire.

He widened your legs, resting the back of your knees on his shoulders, exposing your folds shamelessly for him. You wanted to closed your legs but he didn’t let you, kissing your lips fiercely to distract you from your shyness. His mouth devoured yours, sucking and biting your lips like a starve man, making you moan into his mouth.

You inhaled sharply when you felt the tip of his cock opening your entrance, making you frown with pain. He soothed you by kissing your cheeks softly while shoving slowly his thick and large cock into you, splitting you open and watering your eyes with unshed tears. Jungkook licked the first tear that dropped from your eyes, kissing your eyelids and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

And then he snaps, grunting and burying himself inside of you, breathing deep. His brows were frowned in pleasure and his lips slightly parted; he was staring down at you with his blue eyes darkening dangerously. He rocked your body up and down against the matter, ramming into you with force and turning your pain and discomfort into pleasure. You moaned and sobbed at his rough thrusts, being dragged by the force of his hips rolling against yours. It was a lot to take, so you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold onto something.

Jungkook’s poundings became stronger and deeper, making you let out a silent scream and coming so hard that your eyes turned white for a second, whimpering in overstimulation when Jungkook kept ramming into you. He was staring down at you with his face scrunched up in pleasure and his jaw clenched, letting out a deep and affected groan when he came, filling you up to the brim.

That night you fell asleep wrapped by his arms, unaware that the next day he will bound you forever to the underworld by giving you pomegranate seeds.

He warned you, didn’t he?

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[cece693]

Hear me out percy jackson x demeter reader what if reader got kidnapped too by Luke just like Hades but reader doesn't like Luke an let me tell you percy and demeter ARE GOING WILD the crops are all dead and the water is going crazy

That's all thank you!

YOU TOOK THE WRONG PERSON

pairing: percy jackson x son of demeter

You were never meant to be part of the prophecy. You weren’t a warrior, not in the traditional sense. You could make vines grow through concrete, calm wild animals with your voice, and coax life from dry earth—but a fighter? No. You weren’t supposed to be on the battlefield.

But you were Percy’s.

And that made you a target.

They took you in the night—Luke and his followers. You fought, of course you did. You thrashed and shouted and lashed out with roots and thorn-covered whips, but Luke had planned this. He used celestial bronze nets soaked in hydra venom to dull your magic, and even as you screamed Percy’s name, the earth couldn’t reach you. Your mother couldn’t reach you.

At least, not yet.

Camp Half-Blood woke up to wilting gardens. Strawberries shriveled on the vine. Roses blacken mid-bloom. The Demeter cabin is on its knees, their prayers unanswered, the soil refusing to listen. But that’s only the beginning. Because when Percy finds out, when Chiron breaks the news that Luke took you,—“We think he intends to use them as leverage. You’re close, and their connection to the seasons—”

Percy’s already gone.

He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t shout. He just leaves, a storm trailing behind him. Quite literally.

The skies turn black. The ocean begins to surge unnaturally, even in places far from Poseidon's domain. Water floods subway systems and overflows dams. Rain won’t stop. Thunder pounds the clouds like a war drum. And Demeter? She’s not idle, either.

“My son,” she says, her voice brittle as frost. “Taken like Persephone. But this time, I will not weep. I will rage.” She refuses to bring spring. Crops fail. Vineyards rot. Fields across the globe dry into brittle husks.

Humanity begins to notice. But none of that matters to Percy.

He would tear the world apart ocean by ocean if it meant getting you back.

Meanwhile…

Luke tries to manipulate you, playing the old card of, “They don’t care about the truth, only the prophecy,” and, “You and I could be so much more.”

You stare at him like he's soil that refuses to grow. “You’re not Hades,” you spit. “You don’t get to play villain and still act like you’re in love with the world you’re trying to destroy.”

“You think Percy will come for you?” Luke mocks, cruel. “He’s a pawn of Olympus.”

You stare at him, the pain in your wrists forgotten, your breath catching not from fear but fury. Your voice is soft when you speak, but every word lands like the crack of roots splitting stone.

“No,” you say, gaze locked and unflinching. “That’s where you keep getting it wrong. He’s not a pawn.” You lean forward, eyes sharp with something ancient, something your mother passed into your bones like wildseed. “He’s the storm. He doesn’t take orders—he makes the sea rise.”

Luke falters—just for a second.

“He’ll come for me,” you continue, your voice calm, almost pitying, “not because the gods told him to. Not for Olympus. But because he loves me. And you? You wouldn’t know what that kind of loyalty looks like if it strangled you in your sleep.”

The silence stretches. You feel it in the walls—the faint tremble of far-off water

“You’re not a god,” you finish. “You’re just a boy playing tyrant in someone else’s war.” And that’s when the walls groan. Dust rained from the ceiling. Somewhere above, something—no, everything—shifts.

Luke’s smug smile finally cracks. “What did you do?”

You blink slowly. “I didn’t do anything.” You tilt your head, listening. “But the tide’s coming in.”

And then it hits.

The far wall of the chamber explodes inward, not with fire—but with water. Pressurized and howling like a leviathan. It floods the corridor, swallowing Luke’s guards in seconds. Vines as thick as tree trunks burst through cracks in the floor and lash out like serpents, tearing down pillars, choking weapons from hands, dragging the unworthy underground.

And then—him.

Percy stands in the breach. Soaked to the bone, blood trailing from his temple, celestial bronze blade clenched so tightly in his fist it creaks. His sea-green eyes land on you, and something ancient and wild ripples behind them.

“Get away from him,” Percy says, and there’s no room for argument. His voice booms like waves against cliffs. “Now.”

Luke draws his sword. “You won’t make it out of here with him,” Luke hisses. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“You already lost,” Percy growls. “The ocean doesn’t ask permission.”

And suddenly he’s moving—the kind of speed you don’t see, only feel. Water blasts forward in a crashing spiral, knocking Luke off his feet. The two clash in a blur of silver and blue. You watch helplessly, shackled, vines too exhausted to respond—but the earth is listening again. You whisper low, coaxing the stone, and slowly, steadily, the roots obey.

Chains snap. Your arms fall limp at your sides, burning—but free. Just in time to see Luke flat on his back, sword flung from his grasp. Percy doesn’t strike the killing blow. No. He plants a foot on Luke’s chest and points Riptide at his throat. “You hurt him. You took him."

Percy’s voice trembles—not from weakness, but from holding back the kind of wrath that could shatter continents. “You tried to break the world by using the person I love most as bait.”

Luke sneers, though he’s pinned. “Still think you’re a hero? You’ll never stop it—Kronos is coming. You’re just another demigod in the meat grinder, Jackson.”

“Maybe,” Percy says, eyes burning. “But I’m the demigod who’s still standing.”

He doesn’t kill him—not out of mercy, but defiance.

Instead, he lets the earth have him.

Vines snap from the ground, curling around Luke’s limbs, dragging him down like an ancient punishment—the wrath of Demeter herself. The floor cracks, soil groaning, and the last thing Luke sees before darkness claims him is Percy wrapping you in his arms.

Percy collapses to his knees beside you, arms instantly pulling you in. He smells of salt and blood and ozone, the sharp scent of a storm that finally passed. “I’m here,” he breathes. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

You sag against him, the adrenaline finally fading. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” Percy says, almost incredulous. His voice cracks at the edges. “I’d flood the world if that’s what it took. You think gods scare me? You think fate scares me?” He cups your cheek, thumb brushing over the grime and dried blood. “Losing you—that’s the only thing that terrifies me.”

You lean into the touch. “You scared the plants.”

He laughs wetly, eyes still shining. “You scared the sea.”

[dreamdragonkadia]

A/n; I wanted something sweet and simple to write, and Percy was the target of my affection today. p.jackson x hades!reader

“Do you think the ocean would drown me?”

Maybe it was the way his fingers curled so easily around yours, palm warm against your colder skin, swinging your hands back and forth like they were meant to fit, like Yin and Yang.

Or maybe it was the way the ocean lapped at your ankles like a curious animal, all cool nips and teasing chills that barely registered beneath the heavy heat of the sun.

You stood at the shoreline with Percy, his sneakers already tossed somewhere behind you on the sand. The waves rolled in and out, brushing against your feet, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite catch. It was peaceful, so much so, your thoughts slipped past your mouth before you could stop them.

“Do you think the ocean would drown me if I went in without you?”

Percy blinked. Once. Then again, slower this time, like he was trying to make sure he heard you right.

There was a beat of silence.

You kept your gaze on the water, trying to ignore how raw and stupid the words sounded in the open air. Typical, you thought. Another gloomy, intrusive thought courtesy of being one of Hades’ kids. Even sweet, golden Hazel had her moments like that—dark thoughts she only dared voice to her half-siblings, as if only children of the Underworld would understand.

“Gorgeous…That’s a weird thing to say,” Percy said at last, his tone careful. Not judgmental, just... Percy…being honest.

You felt a flush creep up your neck and started to pull your hand away, but he caught it before you could, holding on tighter.

“No,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean—okay, yeah, it’s a little weird, but like, not in a bad way. You’re allowed to ask stuff like that.”

You finally looked at him, and he gave you a crooked, lopsided smile—the one that always looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be flirting or apologizing.

“I’d be pretty pissed if the ocean tried anything,” he added. “Like, seriously, we’d be having words. Me and the sea.”

You huffed a laugh, not expecting that. “You’d fight the ocean?”

“For you?” Percy shrugged, smug. “Absolutely. I mean, it listens to me. Most of the time. I think it kind of has to respect you now anyway.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m your girlfriend?”

“Exactly. Like, it’s a package deal,” he said, nudging your arm with his shoulder. “You’re with me, and I’m Poseidon’s kid, so the ocean probably knows better than to mess with you. Divine courtesy or something.”

You tilted your head, considering that. “So you’re saying I have… ocean immunity?”

He grinned. “Yep. Comes with dating me. That and killer free kiss. Won’t even charge you.” He was trying to make you smile. And annoyingly enough, it worked. You leaned into him a little, letting the gentle push of the tide nudge both of you forward.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

“For what?”

You hesitated. “For not thinking I’m weird.”

Percy snorted. “Oh, you’re totally weird. But so am I. That’s kind of the whole deal.”

You laughed softly, letting your shoulder bump into his.

He looked at you then, really looked. Not with pity or confusion, but with that quiet, thoughtful intensity he got sometimes when he was thinking more than he said. The waves rolled in and out at your feet, like the ocean itself was waiting.`

Then, without a word, he gave your joined hands a gentle tug, pulling you closer until your chest bumped against his.

“Percy—”

“You’re not weird,” he said, a little more serious this time. “You’re… you. And I adore you. All of it.”

Your heart did a dumb little flip.

And before you could say anything else, Percy leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t a movie kiss, rushed or dramatic. Just soft, certain, and salty with sea air. Like he had all the time in the world to give you, like he’d do it again and again until you believed every word he just said.

When he pulled back, he was smiling. “Told you the kiss was free.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning, but you didn’t move away.

“Alright,” you said. “But I’m still not convinced about the ocean immunity thing.”

Percy grinned, slipping an arm around your waist. “Guess we’ll just have to keep testing it.”

“If you throw me into the water, we are fighting.”

“Noted.”

[thealtoduck]

SPICY

Camp Half-Blood x Son of Aphrodite!Reader

Warnings: The Hunters of Artemis lowkey being bullies, slut shaming kinda, verbal confrontation, OOC!Drew…

Summary: To the displeasure of Cabin 10, Camp Half-Blood gets a visit from the Hunters of Artemis…

——

As everything seemed about to be peaceful at Camp Half-Blood… for once in a lifetime. Then THEY showed up. ”THEY” being the Hunters of Artemis showed up. Thalia and seven other hunters.

What they were doing at camp, you had no idea, but here they were. But it was nice for you to see Thalia again, she had been a friend of yours while she was at camp.

Personally you had nothing against the Hunters for their choice to join the hunt. What you did have something against was how some of them would act and say about you, your mother and your siblings. It was starting to get on your nerves.

Thalia and three of other hunters were completely fine and respectful. Keeping things civil between you and your siblings and themselves. But then there was the other four… the ones who were whispering things, not only about your cabin but every single demigod at camp and maybe even about Mr D and Chiron too.

A couple of days in to their stay you and a couple of other Aphrodite kids went to the archery range for some extra practice. But when you got there, the four hunters were there shooting the targets.

Your group stopped behind them and Drew spoke up in as polite of a tone as she could muster ”Excuse me, we’ve booked the archery range for practicing”. The hunters turned to them, their smiles were mocking as they said ”We just finished”.

They collected their arrows from the target. And moved to the side of the range, one of them then asked ”You don’t mind if we stay and watch, do you?”. ”Do whatever you want” Drew said and turned towards the other Aphrodite kids.

”Lacy, you’re first” Drew said and Lacy stepped forward. The young girl seemed distracted as she tried to set the arrow correctly on the string. You glanced over at the four hunters seeing them whisper amongst each other.

Once she got it right and fired off the arrow she missed by quite a lot. ”Good try” Drew told her, giving her a pat on the shoulder. ”Mitchell, you’re up next” Drew stated and Mitchell took Lacy’s place.

He set the arrow, he trembled slightly as he tried to aim. ”Focus Mitchell” you tried to encourage him. Once he fired the arrow he managed to hit the target but nowhere near center. The four hunters started giggling. The Aphrodite kids tried their best to ignore them.

”Y/n, you’re turn” Drew said, her voice starting to sour as she heard the hunters starting to whisper once more. You stepped forward pulling an arrow out of your quiver, setting it on the string of your bow, as you were about to lift your bow and aim you heard some of what the hunters were whispering.

”You can tell they don’t usually do a lot of work” one with bushy black hair whispered to the other three.

”They do, but mostly on their knees, especially him” one with a short brown bob commented nodding towards you making the other three laugh lightly. You felt as angered blossomed up inside you and you snapped.

”I’m sorry” you then spoke up turning to them, the one with the brown bob and a blonde one’s eyes had widend and the two other two with black hair only glared at you.

”But do you four have something that you wanna say?” you questioned.

”We weren’t talking to you” one with sleek black hair said defensively, the others nodding smugly in agreement.

”Well it sure as Hades sounds as if you were talking about me, You wanna say it with your chest this time?” you questioned venomously, the hunters went silent.

”Something about being on my knees” you said in a mockingly helpful tone.

”Drop it, just shoot your arrow” the one with bushy black hair said dismissively as the other 3 voiced their agreement.

Without even at a glance to the target you lifted the bow shooting off the arrow, hitting right in the bull’s eye. The hunters looked in shock at the arrow you had just shot.

”What? You think you’re special cause you can shoot a bow and arrow” you questioned. ”Lucky shot” the brown haired one said.

You immediately turned back to the range and shot the bull’s eye of all the other targets too. Then turning back to the hunters who were stunned. ”You do remember our brother is Eros, right? Think we wouldn’t pick up anything from him” You stated sarcastically.

The hunters glared silently at you.

”So maybe next time you, don’t dish out something you can’t say to my face… clear?” you said in a vaugely threatening tone. The four hunters didn’t say anything they simply turned and walked off, clearly pissed as hell.

Your talk with them was enough to keep them in line for the rest of their visit. Being too scared to comment on the other Aphrodite kids whenever you were around.

[the-midnight-blooms]

PRETTY GIRLS MAKE GRAVES | smg

pairing: spy!song mingi x assassin!reader AU: marriage of convenience au (inspired by spy x family, set during the cold war) word count: 19.0k warnings: blood, violence, mentions of death, strong language

masterlist

Apollo, to many, is an Olympian deity in classical mythology, characterised as a being of light, truth, music and prophecy. A strong entity bestowing his benefaction upon the humans who revelled in his myth.

To the Agency, Apollo is a venerated spy whose identity is obscured by the night, hidden in plain sight as he traipses the corrupted land atoning for all of its sins. There wasn't much to be said about Apollo, except for the many that were blessed enough to catch glimpses of his shadow looming in the restive airs.

He was handsome, with a cutthroat jawline, siren eyes and pink lips. He was tall, therefore heightening his attractiveness; which he was not oblivious to as he strode down the hallways of Headquarters seeing his fellow female colleagues steal glances at him only to hide behind their desks in a desperate attempt to conceal their blushes. Apollo was indifferent to their emotions, in his line of work there was no time for love, hence he was perfectly content with remaining single and rejecting all marriage and courtship prospects. Such was to only be pursued if he was on a mission.

Harsh winds roar in the dim wake of the evening light that streams over the serene atmosphere, oblivious to the churning pit of darkness overwhelming the esteemed states. The great wheels of the steam train grind against the train tracks where Apollo is settled in a private compartment, the sliding door sealed shut as the carriage sways from side to side. Before him sits a decoded letter from his superior, Athena, his sharp eyes reeling in the information.

“Good day or, perhaps, evening, Apollo

Well done on your last mission. Thanks to you, you have managed to restore a moment of peace to both conflicting states.

Your next target is the ex-member of the Agency and Chairman Hades. He is a great threat to the truce between Hala and Westonia. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to infiltrate 'The Cosmopolitan' and obtain information regarding his whereabouts and any seditious activities from his wife Park Eunha, alias Persephone.

In order to achieve this, you will get married and have a child."

Excuse me, what?

"Hades has gone into hiding, therefore it is currently unable to track him down. The only way to locate him is by extracting this information from his wife, who, herself, will not readily give this information. His children attend a nursery school, where some of the mothers congregate and form close friendships with Mrs Park, joining 'The Cosmopolitan'.

You will have your child enrol in this school and have your wife infiltrate one of the social gatherings. The enrolment deadline is drawing near, meaning you have 13 days to pull this off.”

Where am I going to find a wife and child in thirteen days?

Releasing a deep sigh, he leans back in his chair caressing his temples.

For the peace of Hala and Westonia, Apollo will do what he must.

"This is one of our single-family apartments. The unit comes furnished, including central air conditioning and heating, and… Um, sir?" The estate agent stands awkwardly at the door as Apollo's careful eyes observe the contents of the room. On the second floor, it overlooks the city with easy access to the fire escape. The walls have good soundproofing, and despite the fact some of the floorboards are out of place; there's enough gap to hide some of his equipment. Best of all, there are no wiretaps.

"I'll take it." He proclaims eagerly. A relieved grin settles on the estate agent's face.

"Excellent, Mr Song now if you sign these documents..."

Name: Song Mingi.

Occupation: Physicist.

Quite a job to be having in the midst of a Cold War, but some of Hades' associates work down at that end in a research lab and what's better than killing one bird with two stones. Besides, Mingi doesn't remember much about his father other than the fact that he was a physicist; so he supposes the job he has created for himself has sprung from a personal touch. It's a good way to not get lost in one's forged identity, like how some agents keep their initials the same so they can remember who they are.

"How nice that you and your family are moving into a new home. Do you have a boy or a girl?"

Uh—

"We'll find out soon." He ignores the look of bafflement on the man's face before grasping the keys in his hand.

“Take whichever one you want.” The orphanage director scowls at all the children running around chasing each other. It's Mingi's time to look puzzled, the establishment itself is particularly run down, the ceiling looks as if it's going to collapse in on itself. Though he supposes these kids will all have complicated pasts, so it will be easy to manipulate. "Looking for any child, specifically?"

“Around 5 years old? One that can read and write.” He ponders out loud. He needs a child with potential to pass the entrance exam.

"In that case...we have Mieun." He gesticulates to the little body in the corner, sitting on the window sill with her legs crossed. Her hair dark, wide eyes boring into the abacus resting upon a stack of encyclopaedias. “Go on, say hello.” Tentatively, Mingi approaches her, the worker loitering behind him. He'd love to get Mieun out of his hair, the devious child is notorious for biting. Clearing his throat, the child turns to meet his gaze before looking back at the abacus.

"Mieun, will you not say hello to the nice man? He might be your new daddy." Her head whips in Mingi's direction, her doe eyes looking at him up and down.

"Appa?"

"Yes, yes. This is your new Appa." The man provokes with a sly smile; the sooner she's out of his hair the better. He's even willing to get rid of her without the paperwork, she doesn't even have a birth certificate having just been abandoned outside the orphanage two years ago.

Hold on a minute. Mingi cranes his neck to meet the Orphanage Director's gaze, huffing before looking back at the child. Well if she can read and write...

"Appa!" She squeals, kicking her feet. Her arms stick out towards him and Mingi sighs.

I guess this child is mine now.

Outside of his apartment complex, he stops at the steps looking down at his daughter. He registers how little she is. Was he that little at four years old? He remembers being the tallest in his nursery. Lifting her up from the floor, he makes his way into the flat—the old ladies coo at Mieun who simply blushes at them. He cannot deny she is a cute child, however he cannot get too attached. After all, when the mission is over he may have to send her back. Or, if he has enough pity, put her in a better establishment.

"Right, this is your new home." He declares, Mieun immediately darts towards the TV, her finger hovering over the buttons to change the channels. Her wide eyes are merely two inches away from the television screen; he deduces it's not good for her eyes immediately yielding her small body back to the sofa. "House rules. One, sit on the sofa when you watch television. Two, when I watch the news, you watch the news. Three, you eat what you get given or go to bed hungry. Understood?" Her baby head bobs up and down in agreement, he raises an impressive eyebrow, he didn't think she'd agree so quickly. Before he can blink, she crawls towards him wrapping her arms around him, her face snugly fits in the crook of his neck—Mingi freezes in his spot.

"Papa." She squeals, "I want a hug."

Ah, so this is her negotiation.

Tentatively, Mingi's powerful arms encircle her delicate frame, drawing her closer to him. They cocoon her entirely, enveloping her in his warmth. Mieun's long lashes flutter gently as the comforting heat that surrounds her sings a careful lullaby, basking her consciousness into the distant seas.

Understanding the other party is the first step towards peace.

Apollo learns very quickly that his daughter's love language is physical touch. Perhaps she is touch starved, a consequence of her infancy being wrought with neglect by her biological parents. In every moment of the day, she must be attached to her father, refusing separation. Whether it's hugging, holding hands, sitting on his lap: distance is not an option. It's somehow difficult for a man who can not remember a time where a touch felt like it was borne from the conquest of love rather than violence. Each vibration against his skin feels like the burning of a hot knife pressed against the surface of his body. He gulps, as Mieun swings her limbs around his long legs, he knows he cannot outright neglect her right for affection, but he doesn't know long he can cope with the hugging and kissing.

"Mieun please get off me, I need to go shopping." Her tiny brows furrow as tears begin to spill from her wide, innocent eyes. With lips that quiver with each sob that wracks her small frame, Mieun's fists clench at her sides, and her chest heaves with the effort of each breath, as if her tiny body cannot contain the overwhelming surge of emotions. The tears stream down her flushed cheeks, catching the light, as her cries grow louder in desperate need of comfort. Releasing a defeated breath, he raises her from the ground, hesitantly, pressing his lips to her rosy cheeks. "Fine, I'll take you with me." Grumbling, he fits her coat around her, hauling her out of the home with him.

The kitchen is bathed in the golden light of the early morning, casting gentle shadows across the room. The air is still, cool with the quiet calm that only the dawn can bring; he huffs as an unusual feeling of unsettlement roams within him. He has just posted Mieun's application form for Hala Academy, he knows that when he's found his wife he'll sneak in and write her credentials in on the form, which he has currently left very ambiguous.

"Fatherhood is a funny look on you, Apollo." A familiar figure wanders into the apartment, Mingi rolls his eyes as he attempts to feed Mieun another spoonful of porridge. He heard the merciless pounding of his platform dress shoes from the bottom of the staircase, he twists his neck observing the Black Cat's disposition, who's adequately dressed in a three piece suit, hair slicked back and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his long nose. In fact, his attire almost mirrors Mingi's who somehow looks better than him in it.

"What are they calling you here?" Mingi inquires, hastily shoving the spoon inside Mieun's mouth before she can refuse. Her face scrunches up in protest before distastefully swallowing what she deems gruel.

"Jung Wooyoung, an office worker in the City Hall." Apollo can trust the Black Cat to go for the most boring jobs— they pay a lot.

"I thought you were doing the The Graveyard mission?"

"I will after I'm done here." A beat of silence fills the room, before Mieun's whines permeate the room; shrinking under her father's hard stare she receives the last spoonful of porridge before scampering to the television to watch the latest episode of the notorious spy show. "So Hades has been a bad boy then?" Mingi raises a brow at the subject before placing the bowl in the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

"That's one way of putting it." He retorts, plainly, with no enthusiasm to continue the issue, but he should know better. Wooyoung is exceptionally prying. "I wanted to help but Athens told me—,"

"What, exactly, is your point, cat boy?" He mocks, jaw clenched.

"Are you not in the slightest bit, hurt? Like, at all? It is ok to feel angry and disappointed, he was your best friend. You knew him better than anyone." Apollo's head dips beneath his shoulders, slender finger tapping against the worktop as he comprehends Wooyoung's sympathy. He's not wrong in any sense, but being a spy does mean disregarding one's emotions for the betterment of the country.

"No. I really couldn't care less." Wooyoung hums, unbelieving of Apollo's statement. "I need a favour from you. Collect me the records of all the single women who live in Oka. I need to find a wife." The Black Cat wolf-whistles, ignoring Mingi's scowl.

"What's the magic word?" He teases, ignoring the look of vexation that exceeds on his associate's face.

"Please!" Mieun shouts, jumping off her seat as she pads to the television to watch her cartoons.

She really should start revising for that entrance exam.

"I copied all the files of unmarried women from the City Hall." Wooyoung throws the files down onto the coffee table, whilst grumbling. "I'm doing way too much for a mission that isn't even mine." Apollo highly validates his help, even if he'll never show it. Mieun looks up from her seat at the coffee table, where sheets of arithmetic are littered across; her father has already got her working on Hala Academy's entrance exam.

"Why couldn't you just marry Demeter? Everyone knows that woman is head over heels for you." Mingi shoots Wooyoung a look of annoyance. Demeter, alongside Apollo, is one of the best spies in the field known for her ability to extract information out of almost anyone without the use of torture. Apollo finds it impressive considering he’s had to get his hands dirty a few times. Regardless, she’s also known for pining over Apollo seeing that she’s attempted to pursue him a multiple of times, and has failed: horrifically.

He supposes that if he was that much in love with another, he wouldn’t want to let go of them too—but then again Apollo has never been in love (and doesn’t intend to either) so he cannot help but frown at her.

Grabbing both his and Mieun’s jacket off the hook, he kneels down to wrap her in the duffle coat. Wooyoung purses his lips, visibly impressed.

“Mieun and I are going to the library, I need a bunch of physics books because my knowledge has rusted."

Morana, to many, is a tyrannical mythological being characterised by death. rebirth and dreams. To Legion, she is their truest assassin, notorious for being Death's greatest servant providing him with an abundance of souls to take over to the afterlife. She held an unwavering stare as she grasped the night’s weapon, striking it upon Legion's enemies. Led by a convoluted moral compass, the mere concept of her seemed unreal, there was no way a being could be so light on her feet that when she travelled, it was like she was floating through air. Yet, she did it as if it was a gift she was born with.

Morana proved to be the stark opposite of her male counterpart. Where kidnapping, maiming, murdering and torturing was frowned upon by the Agency: Morana openly exercised her free will without a second thought. However, where the Agency ensured their members never had to worry about money: Morana was denied the privilege of having all resources. Granted her practises supported immoral beliefs, but her devotion to Legion remained unrivalled, thus heightening her formidable reputation as the highly skilled assassin.

They say she is unabridged of a ghostly void, holding no space for emotion as the potent elixir of death dribbles from her lips. Perhaps she is death, even. In the form of a human woman, estranged from society for the scar cutting down her face. It's not poignant, but the fact that it is there, is enough.

The esteemed mercenary sits in the public library, deciphering the message that was allotted between the pages of the book that she was told to retrieve. A key, she’s informed in the possession of a woman named ‘Park Eunha’, who runs a club that goes under the name of: ‘The Cosmopolitan.’ Letting out a relentless sigh, she caresses her temples, knowing this is not a mission to complete in days but rather months.

It’s easier to infiltrate the club with a child, but where on earth is she supposed to get a baby from?

"Miss?" Her head snaps up from the book, snapping it close and holding it close against her chest. Her gaze drifts to the volunteer who awkwardly shuffles her feet, staring back at the librarian in anxiety. Truth be told, the volunteer is slightly scared of her for reasons that Morana will never know why. It could be the scar. Smiling to alleviate her nervousness, she nods to instigate the volunteer to speak. "Mrs Sam is calling you."

Sauntering down the aisles, she makes her way to the front desk where the old lady stands amongst other women Morana's age. The old lady smiles, leaning on her walking stick before she speaks. She pauses, a breath hitched in their throats. It's weird how they're afraid of a little grandma with dementia but the old lady loves her library and will love those who cherish the essence of literature with her. She says nothing in the end, scuttling back to her office, to find the sheet of paper with all her notes on. Everybody loves Mrs Sam, Morana included who has a soft spot for the geriatric and little children. Coincidentally, they're the largest demographic that even still attend libraries (aside from university students who attend out of obligation rather than interest).

There are four librarians, excluding Mrs Sam. Morana, herself, Riko, Inger and Jia. The volunteer (whose name she will never remember) loiters by the typewriter machines being the antisocial one out of them. Inger is from Germania but moved to Hala with her husband and son on account of his new occupation here. Out of the other librarians, she is the nicest and most tolerable. Sometimes she can stand Riko, when they keep a distance and exchange polite words, but Jia. Jia, Morana cannot stand and refuses to. All she does is whine about how she never got an admittance into medical school—even at her big age of 28. Morana knows Inger can't stand her too, but neither would dare to admit that out loud since Jia is Mrs Sam's niece. They stand at the front desk as the library slowly fills in the early hours of the morning, a slight chatter amongst them before a haughty laugh escapes into the air.

"Only a man would do that, don't you think Inger?" Jia prompts.

"Ach yes, but my husband is too afraid of me to say no if I asked him to do basic household chores."

"Atta girl." Riko adds.

"What about your husband?" Jia looks at her, with her wide eyes before her lips form an 'o'. "I forgot you're not married, sorry, it's just we are all so I assume you are too." It feels like a taunt, it is a taunt.

The women of Hala firmly believe that marriage is at the heart of a fulfilling life for a woman, therefore those who are unmarried are readily ostracised. Living in the midst of strained tension between Hala and Westonia means that individuals' lives are now invaded by the secret police, probed to see if they’re involved in espionage; she knows that if she wants to stay alive or out of the public eye, she’ll need to get married. Unfortunately, there are no “Find my Husband, and quickly” schemes in Hala. The best bet is to finish her mission and leave Oka.

“Does anyone want to man the desk?”

“I’ll do it.” Morana offers, to which they appreciate. The married women disperse throughout the library with their trolleys to return the books back to the shelves.

Mieun's heavy pants enter Mingi's ears as he finishes taking the final step, making his way into the warmth. Her short legs could not make it past the fourth steep step, her arms holding out for her father to pick her up. He shakes his head at her, he must admit her into a sports club; how embarrassing would it be if one learnt that a child of a spy was unfit?

The library exuded an air of quiet reverence, the room was rather grand in scale yet suffused with a sense of seclusion; the scent of parchment and aging wood lingered in the mien. Muted light of the early morning faded through the tall, arched windows spilling across the worn carpet and leather-bound novels— poised delicately upon timber stretching at least seven feet from the ground. Nestled in the corners of the library were a circuit of soft leather sofas. With the current of academia, Mingi struggled to find the children's section, his eyes occasionally flickering to Mieun's eyes lit up in wonder as her gaze bored into the array of books. He did have to bring home a massive stack of encyclopaedias she refused to give back to the orphanage director.

"Never mind, just keep them." It wasn't like any of the other children were interested in reading, to the same extent as his daughter anyway, he claimed.

"Ok, why don't you look for something to read? What about this one: 'The Tiger Who Came To Tea?'" She shook her head. "'The Tale of Peter Rabbit'?"

"I've read that. I wanna read that book." Raising herself to her toes, her finger points to the spine of a book, Mingi crouches to pull it out.

'Harriet the Spy'?

"Are you sure? Might be a little hard?" He's not sure why he's second guessing her reading level, he has watched her read a children's astrophysics book but the cleverest children in Hala are scrutinised carefully. Intelligence is a curse, not a gift. "What about 'Winnie the Pooh'? My favourite character is Tiger." Mieun holds her ground, trying to pry 'Harriet the Spy' from his hands.

Very well.

"I like Roo, Papa." She scuttles past him to look into the boxes that are low enough for her to rummage through.

She'd make a good spy.

Manning the desk is probably the most boring task when there are no takers of books. The job is a little too easy for her taste, but the hours are great—it's better than working a measly corporate job in the City Hall where it's customary to stare into a document for over thirteen hours. Her primary role is the bringer of death, Magere Hein—as they would say in Germanian, and there are plenty of bodies this city needs disposing of.

A little body dashes towards her, her eyes lit up, watching as a mop of raven hair bounces up and down—her brown duffle coat is one size too big for her, black tights are too small. The skirt is the only one of perfect size. Her parents must be horrible at sizing.

“Hello, darling. How can I help?” She makes a poor attempt at trying to put the book on the table that’s too high up for her. Gently taking her arm, she guides the girl to the smaller table.

"I want this book." She cheers, it seems above her reading level.

“Mieun, don’t run off again.” Her head piques up from where she’s looking at the child, to find a tall man clad in a suit. A stack of books rests in his arms. “Sorry about that Miss, my daughter would like to check out this book.” Her eyes dart between the book, then himself.

Surrounding him is a stream of intimidation, perfection and control. His beauty is unparalleled, his suit is of perfect size hugging his physique with such perfect solidarity. Not a single strand of hair is out of place, his dominance keeps his daughter standing beside him with a decent posture as if afraid of his vexation. Her eyes paint a line down to the bridge of his nose over the curvature of his plump lips. No pimple, no pustule, no redness on his face. He is not a labourer, his hands are not calloused as he places his own books down on the desk; tender, one—no—two paper cuts indent his right index finger. He works a desk job, not at the City Hall. The physics textbooks tell her everything.

"No problem!" She chirps, opening up the book to the front page to steal the front card. "What is your name, darling?"

"Song Mieun! I am Papa's real daughter!" She cheers, a smile tears through her face as her father clarifies the spelling of her name.

Mieun, why would you say that? A look of quiet fear flashes over his face, gone unnoticed by the infamous assassin.

Stamping the due date box, she slides the card to the side to file it behind the circulation desk later. Then, she stamps the back of the books. The only pitiful thing about being a librarian is sending out notices for overdue books when you have to rifle through stacks of book cards. "You have two weeks to read the book and return it, ok?" Nodding eagerly she grabs the book from the table dashing towards the sofa in the corner of the room. Her father releases a sigh of despair turning his gaze back to the librarian.

Mingi finds she emanates a resolute presence, preceded by composure. Her shoulders are tense, her posture straight as she is ready to defend herself against something. It had dropped when she spoke to Mieun, now alone with himself, it is there again. There's also something about the way she carries herself, like an unmarried woman would. Perhaps her single state is due to the faint scar running down her face.

There are many things he cannot deduce about her, it astounds him.

“And these are for me…” He trails off placing down an abundance of physics textbooks. She completes the same order of work as she had done for Mieun scribbling his name down on the sheet paper, the way she masticates the syllables of his name on her tongue does not go unmissed. It slips from her lips in such a dulcet way, he feels warmed by it. "Thank you, Miss."

Teikoku Research stands, proudly, in the bustling arena of the city of Oka; the hum of pelican crossing signals the pedestrians to move as the cars stop, patiently, before the stop line. At half eight in the morning, the city is already alive with small feet pounding down the roads and adults pushing their way through the teeming crowds to get to their workplace on time. At half eight in the morning, the citizens of Hala are not friendly; not when money is their lord, saviour and religion; they may have recovered from a recession but Hala is constantly wrought in a fragile state of political unrest. Mingi's towering frame pokes through the sea of heads dashing down the crossing, his gaze fixated on the tall building in front of his eyes.

Whilst he awaits to hear back from Hala Academy, and Mieun stays with Wooyoung, he needs to work on Project Waffe, Hala's very own development of a powerful weapon. To avoid suspicion, he applied to the vacancy via the traditional route and passed the interview with his exemplary record as an atomic physicist.

His polished black shoes click against the marble flooring, leather satchel clutched in hand, his immaculate disposition summoning undivided attention from the passer-bys. A man stands in front of the double doors, almost as tall as Mingi himself, a little thinner, blonde hair with a frame of rectangular glasses sat on his crooked nose. He wears a dark grey suit, a little shabby, though it seemed as if he forgot to iron his clothes the night before. As Mingi approaches, he clears his throat, polite smiles exchanged between them.

"Mr Hans Schmidt?" The older male nods, gesticulating for the spy to follow through the doors.

"Welcome to your first day at Teikoku, you must be a spectacular man of a sort, Tanaka isn't easily impressed." Mingi remembers the old, short man, bushy eyebrows glaring daggers at Mingi throughout the interview.

Hans Schmidt rambles about basic housekeeping rules, quickly points at key rooms Mingi may have to wander through in the building. Has him wave at the tea boy, the receptionist and a few other 'crucial' members of staff before completely diverting the topic of conversation.

“I’m assuming you have a wife, Mr Song?” Hans asks, his thick Germanian accent spilling through. Fifteen years in Hala, but some things will never change.

“Ah I did. Unfortunately she passed away five years ago during childbirth, so it’s just been my little one and I.” A crushing stifle oppresses the air as the two men walk in synchronisation down the hallway.

“Ach, I’m so sorry to hear that. The little one is five, ja? Girl or boy?” A genuine look of compassion pulls over Hans' face, which Mingi perceives as a possible indicator that he has experienced some kind of loss in his life. After all, Hala has been in and out of dictatorship and stuck in a century old feud with Westonia, everyone has lost someone.

“Correct, she’s five. Her name’s Mieun.” Mingi smiles as he proudly announces his daughter's name. This baffles him.

“What a beautiful name. I have a young one, Luuk. He will be starting Hala Academy, in about a few weeks time. Will she be attending H Academy too?”

“I should hope so.” Hala Academy are very picky when choosing from their candidates. There is a list of criteria, Mingi is unsure if he will be able to fulfil when he walks around the city unmarried.

“Well, this is your department Mr Song. Your supervisor will be here, shortly, to direct you. I hope you enjoy your service in Teikoku. And, remember, no question is a stupid question.”

When the day is over, Mingi closes the cap of his pen, organising the sheets of paper neatly, into a folder before packing his satchel to leave. He bids his supervisor goodbye before rushing out of the building to catch the bus home. It is five 'o'clock in the evening, in Hala, and the roads are much quieter than they were in the morning—a cold gust of air slaps across his face before he double takes reeling in the figure walking past him.

Every evening, for the next week, he finds her at the bus stop, five minutes past five waiting for the bus that arrives at nine minutes past five. Sometimes he walks slowly down the staircase, to realise he must rush across the road to catch the bus that has arrived early. She stifles a giggle as he stumbles onto the bus, panting as he slides onto the seat next to her. They share a smile before she begins interrogating him about his daughter.

One evening, she is not at the bus stop, or the next and Mingi walks the long route home to try and find her at every stop. He's unbeknownst why, but she's the only choice for a wife he has otherwise his mission has already failed. There she is, standing outside of a convenience store, bags in hand, nose nestled into a scarf searching her surroundings.

Is she waiting for someone?

“Sorry Miss, are you waiting for your husband?” The grip on his own bag tightened as her doe eyes stare up at him.

"Mingi? What are you doing here?" A pause lingers in the air as he contemplates his next few words. They stand outside the shop, the dusk seeping into the sky as the roads begin to empty, its silence reminiscent of a time before.

"I didn't see you at the bus stop, so I was worried about your whereabouts." He utters.

Morana blinks twice before regaining a hold on her rationality. "No, I'm not married, Mr Song. I was just waiting for the next bus."

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. In that case, would you like me to walk you home?” His offer is one forged of consideration, a type she has never foreseen before—it almost has her wondering what has intrigued him to display an act of compassion, towards her. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have even asked. Lead the way, madam.” He’s a gentleman, bred of a unique kind that seems to have gone extinct.

“Your wife is a very lucky woman, you’re a very polite man.” She begins, as they stroll down the cobbled pavement to her home.

“She was.” Was? As if having read her mind, he continues. “She passed away during childbirth, it’s only Mieun and I, now.” Her lips uplift into a sympathetic smile, as if to reassure him of his loss. Morana does not remember her parents herself, after all she was taken in by one of Legion's assassin's at nine years old.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Now I understand why the baby’s clothes are all the wrong sizes.” The joke rolls off her tongue effortlessly, but is replaced by a sense of unease as he's quiet for a second too long.

“Oh it’s that noticeable?” The anxiety prescient in his tone warms her, he's evidently a man who cares.

“Perhaps I could go shopping with you! To shop for Mieun, I mean.” She quickly adds, as her face turns beet red in embarrassment.

“I’m afraid you’d have to marry me first.” A quiet laugh escapes her lips, she shakes her head at his proclamation. "I'm serious, Mieun would love to have you as her mother. She's finished her book already, and pesters me to take her to see you." Morana is in awe, Mieun is a darling. (And her father is, too, of the attractive kind).

“Marriage, marriage, marriage. It's all the women of Hala care about." A sigh of despondency is released before she confesses to him, "Truth be told, the women at the library were going to report me to the police for suspicion of espionage, all for being single. If you were being serious, I would actually take you up on that offer." Mingi stops in his tracks, the luminous blaze of the streetlight forms a halo over his slicked back hair. She, too, stops in her path, turning to face him.

“Would you be willing to be my wife, so Mieun could have a mother?" His question suspends in the thoughtful atmosphere, the minute wisps of wind are hitched in their wake as they anticipate her response.

“Yes.” She answers, a relieved smile settles on Mingi’s face. “I guess, I need someone to be a mother to and your child needs a mother.”

“So you’re saying it’s ok size up for trousers, shirts and dresses?” Mingi quizzes, as he browses with his wife in the girls sections.

“Yes! It’s much more comfortable, leaves room for movement and she can go a while wearing them too. Saves us buying more clothes until she’s grown out of them.” Her eyes searched across the racks until they bore into a dark brown skirt. “We should get this! Then Mimi and I can wear matching outfits!” She squeals, a soft smile painted on her husband’s face before she rifles searching for the right size. Glancing over the price tag, her movements falter before Mingi takes the skirt from her hand to rest it over his arm, like a rack.

“I like that blue dress.” He points out, ignorant of the price tag. “It’s similar to yours.”

They’re Mr and Mrs Song now, it somehow feels odd that with some sudden twist of fate, she now remains at his side—her name in conjunction with his. Who ever would have thought that the enigmatic librarian had caught the eyes of the quiet, single father? Yet it had happened, and in a whirlwind she had moved into his home, and was practically sharing a room with the man. He was more than happy to give her the spare bedroom, though she had insisted that sharing a room wouldn’t make Mieun feel that there was some sort of particular divide between them. After all, this relationship wasn’t just orchestrated for the world, but also for their daughter too. She needn’t know that this was merely a marriage of convenience.

Morana learns off Jung Wooyoung, the civil servant at the City Hall, who often decides to drop by for dinner. Mieun calls him a ‘Cat Boy’ to which this confuses her.

“He somewhat resembles a black cat, don’t you think?” Mingi provokes at the dinner table as Wooyoung rolls his eyes. Morana takes the time to observe Wooyoung’s disposition carefully. She’s seen him before, but where?

“Has he told you about Hala Academy?” Wooyoung prompts, she nods as she chews her food. "Hear that Mimi? You have to get in, it's what would have Amma wanted, right?"

Would I—oh…

Mieun's real Amma.

"I thought...your wife passed away during giving birth, how would...Mimi know..?" She tentatively raises, stopping in between words in some hope that Mingi picks up what she wants to ask.

“It was one of the things we used to talk about when she was pregnant with Mimi.” As married couples do.

As lovers do.

"I'm sorry about Wooyoung bringing up my ex-wife, that idiot always says the first thing that comes to his head." The tablecloth in hand wipes down the surface of the ceramic plate before he settles it down onto the pile of dry dishes. Shaking her head, she waves him off as she organises the containers of leftovers in the fridge. They may have not been married very long, yet some odd systematic domesticity is established through their routines. Every evening, she will wash the dishes as Mingi clears the table. Mingi dries the dishes and she will arrange the leftovers into smaller bowls, then wipe down the table; then wash the cloth. Within it, they will always talk about their day, gossip about co-workers before exchanging gentle smiles.

"It's ok, Mingi. I know you don’t see me as a replacement for her.”

“That doesn’t mean I still don’t value you, and your role in this household. First and foremost you are my wife and Mieun’s mother.” He, quickly, interjects—his stern expression tightly fixed on her. Some odd consternation steers in her, his sincere words are the first to be spoken to a man of his kind. He is a rare creature, she deduces. Yes, many are tall and handsome; but the soft-spoken and considerate have gone almost extinct. Almost, she remembers, her husband exists. Song Mingi, exists and is hers.

It's enough to make a grown woman swoon at night.

Hala Academy stands in the centre of Oka, in all its grandeur—its imposing silhouette barely visible in the moonlight, now towering over them. A loft edifice of dark, weathered stone, the building perpetuated an air of class and sophistication subduing the couple with a sense of inferiority. The arched windows were adorned with intricate wrought ironwork, their glass panes slightly fogged with age. Ivy crept up the sides, entwining with the stone, the main entrance called for them; above, a stone plaque read simply: Hala Academy. Pushing past the mahogany door, the entryway was lit by the flickering glow of gas lamps, the stone floors covered by traditional Persian rugs. The ceilings were high, the walls panelled with a rich, dark oak, the corridors were long and narrow and despite the array of candles in their pristine silver holders it still felt significantly cold and dim. On the contrary to its suave demeanour, the rooms are filled with anxious parents and carefree children; excited chatter infiltrates out into the entryway.

They look like a composed couple, with their outfits that complement each other, colours and styles an ode to their age-old marriage and comprehensive understanding of all matters intelligent. Mr Song, the physicist, and his wife, the librarian, stride into the rooms, their daughter settled at her mother's hip, elegant in her smart clothing. Still, she doesn't understand why Mieun could not wear pink but according to Mingi, "The school's dress code is black, maroon, grey and dark brown. It’s better to follow their dress code. Remember, the first impression is the last impression."

Ah yes, 'to impress'. That is the main reason that they're here: Hala Academy organises interviews for all candidates that have fit the school's criteria. This is where the children must complete a 'simple', two-hour entrance exam, which topics include: Literature, Mathematics, Science, History, Geography and Politics. At the same time, the parents are interviewed to assess 'Familial Politics'. In other words, children of divorcees, single parents, parents who are separating are not given an admission on the grounds that their child will not perform well. It's a clever tactic as most parents would be too concerned about their child's education than about their marriage. As grim as it seems, this is one rigid rule of the eminent 'H Academy' and is the primary reason it stands as the world's best international academy.

Mieun has skipped to the exam hall, standing behind a line of nervous students all sweating and shaking as they receive firm looks from their parents. Morana deems she is the only child that has been kissed goodbye, standing with her husband in the foyer awaiting for them to be called to interrogation. An old man, with short grey hair, a pair of half-moon shaped glasses and a cane stands outside of the door—his hawk-like eyes, cautiously, observing his surroundings.

Andrew Anderson, Mingi recalls. An ex-Westonian Major turned English teacher, who has a keen eye for marriage authenticity. He also retains the excellent sixth sense of seeing through lies and has even made a mother run out of the room crying snot and tears. Anderson makes, seemingly relaxed, interviews intense; cutting down the candidates down to the bone.

"Mingi." Mrs Song whispers, he averts his gaze to her, leaning down slightly as her lips inch closer to his ears. "I think we should hold hands." She professes, her fingers grazing against his own. He noticed Anderson's hawk-like gaze from across the room. Whilst is constantly watching, Mingi is constantly performing. Enveloping her own smaller hand within his, they share a polite smile before he smooths the crease on her blazer collar.

We must prove to them that we're a happy couple.

"Mr and Mrs Song?" Their heads pique up in synchrony, somehow the grip on her hand has tightened as they scuttle towards the office, feeling the burning stare of a number of parents, who are too, awaiting their turn in anguish. The room is particularly large, like most of the rooms in the academy, with a sizzling fireplace crackling embers; daunting, as if the couple were expectant of their death. There are three interrogators, inside the classroom, Mr Anderson, Mr Jansen and Mrs Beck, all of whom Mingi is thoroughly educated on. Upon Mrs Beck's allowance, they seat themselves together on the plush sofa opposite.

The Songs shall prevail in this game of information warfare.

"Mr Song, I was informed that this is your second wife, may I ask how you met?" Mrs Beck asks. She's a mild-mannered woman, very conservative and prioritises logic; the older students love her with her concise explanations of advanced biology. Nevertheless, she's an exceptionally 'gradist'; therefore only intelligence entices her.

I see we're getting straight to the point. He looks over to Mrs Song, who matches his placid composure. "I met my wife in a library, I was in awe of her grace. Ever since the passing of my first wife, I've been hesitant on moving on but on meeting her, I felt that I had been given the privilege of being able to fall in love again." Mrs Song returns his smile, clutching the fabric of her silk dress to steady herself.

"And what about you, Madam?" Beck inquires.

"Mingi is a wonderful person who cares so much for his daughter. He's also exceptionally considerate of me." Before Beck can open her mouth to retort, she is uncouthly cut off by her colleague.

"Why would a pretty girl like you choose to be with a man with baggage?" Mr Jansen inquires, furtively, leaning back in his chair, ignoring the aghast stares of his associates.

"Why that's uncouth of you, Jansen." Beck hisses, she quickly dismisses Jansen's question proceeding forward with the interview. "As for our next question: Could you tell us why you chose to apply to Hala Academy?"

"The quality of the instructors at this establishment is superior. Of course, you are all very knowledgeable and cultured, and are excellent at guiding your students to fruitful pathways in order to become successful citizens of Hala." Anderson nods his head, impressed by Mingi's elegant response.

"Now then, how would the two of you describe your daughter? Are there any strengths and weaknesses we should be aware of?"

After a single pause, Mingi opens his mouth, contemplating his words. He remembers having this conversation with his wife last night. "Mieun is a very inquisitive child, she's quite reserved at first—which isn't necessarily a weakness but after some time she's exceptional at opening up and conversing with others." Morana watches as the deputy headmistress scribbles down her notes on the clipboard, she can just about make out some of the letters; although the pink flush of her cheeks is discernible as Mingi speaks.

“It's a shame this whole second wife/second mother ordeal is quite a...tragedy for you, Mr Song.” The deputy headmistress looks up from her clipboard, sending her colleague a look of irritation; she finds some of Hala Academy's traditions to be rather...unconventional.

"I think it's hardly unfair to be penalised on the account of death, don't you think? After all, he is a man and what use is a man without a woman and what use is a woman without her husband." Mrs Song interjects, her head held high challenging Mr Jansen's cunning gaze.

"Jagiya—" Mingi reached out for her hand, squeezing it gently to dissipate her brewing anger. Yet she ignores his attempts at trying to conceal her animosity.

"Lest we forget, you're on your third marriage—aren't you, Mr Jansen?" A spectral silence is suspended in the air, all three of the chairman's jaws go slack in sheer astonishment. Mingi narrows his eyes at her, how much does she actually know?

"And just HOW would you know that?" He barks at her, fists clenched, restraining himself from baring his teeth.

"Courtesy of Mrs Jansen, she often visits the public library and we've got chatting." Her shrewd stare boils Jansen's blood, she's eerily calm despite having ripped open his lies apart.

"The library?" A deep chuckle is eructed from Anderson, leaning forward on his cane. "I thought your wife was dyslexic? Humour me, Mrs Song, what does she like to read?"

"She has a taste for erotica." A wave of startlement succeeds the room, the face of each male going bright red--even Mingi. "The world will read what it cannot get." After a tense moment of silence, she stands up from her chair.

“I’m sor—,”

“No.” She holds out her hand to cease his futile attempts at an apology, perhaps it should be her who apologises. She did just ruin his career. “You can apologise when my daughter scores top in the entrance exam. Auf Weiderhen.”

“I’m so sorry, Mimi, I ruined your admission with my short temper.” Sulking, Mrs Song wraps the blanket tightly over her shoulders before sinking her face into the armrest in despair. Her daughter falls onto the space beside her, wearily attempting to pry open the blanket.

“Mama, opennnn.” Mieun whines, lifting up her blanket she shivers slightly before her daughter crawls in next to her, both girls cocooned warmly in the blanket. “It’s ok, I think I did good. I am sooo bad at geography, I hate it.”

“Well it’s a good thing Hala Academy lets you choose to either keep the subject or drop it in year 8.” Mingi, ambles into the living room placing the tray down on the coffee table before sitting on the leather chair adjacent to the sofa. “You said nothing wrong, we can just hope Mieun has performed well.”

A letter slides in through the letterbox, hitting the ground with a gentle thud as the family settle themselves around the dining table; in the early hours of the morning. Morana freezes, as Mieun climbs down from her chair to pick up the letter.

"It's from the school!" She cheers, which has Mingi springing up from his seat to grab the letter. Restlessly, he aptly tears the seal, his sharp eyes scanning the contents of the letter. He remains silent, in a state of shock as he reads, and re-reads. "Appaaa, what does it say?" Mieun prompts, tugging at his dress trousers. Standing up from her seat, Mrs Song, considerately, seizes the letter from her husband’s grip.

"MIEUN! YOU SCORED FIFTH! YOU'RE GOING TO HALA ACADEMY!" Morana shrieks, she swoops up the tiny body in arms, spinning her around both of them screaming and laughing as Mieun's father takes a seat on the sofa. His ears drown out the discourse of passionate laughter, his back hits the soft fabric with a thump, eyes fluttering shut.

Happiness. Is this what it is supposed to feel like?

"Like I said, if it's getting too much for you, you don't have to work. I earn good enough for the both of us." Mingi explains, as he leans against the kitchen worktop watching as his wife, skilfully slices the vegetables with point blank precision. It's odd, he thinks, that each slice is exactly 1.3cm in thickness. Despite the full background check Mingi has run on her, a small figment of him believes that there's more to her than meets the eye; as if the interview wasn't a testament to that already. Flicking her gaze over her shoulder, she returns back the pot of stewing broth.

"I like to be kept busy, besides the library isn't too far from Mieun's school so I can drop and pick her up." He can't help but agree with her, though if she's in one place at a time and not scuttling all over the city, he'll find it much easier to scrutinise her: if need be. His ears dial out the sound of the pots whirring, and the obnoxious commotion of the broth boiling; attuned to the light patter of feet trailing to the front door. Before the fist pounds against the wooden door, "Mingi, will you get the door? That will be Mimi."

The knock doesn't resound. It never does, Mieun doesn't knock in the 30 staggered seconds it takes him to reach the door, because she's too busy grabbing sweets off the granny in the neighbouring apartment to them.

How did she know Mieun was at the door?

Her slender fingers dance across the surface of his lips, his brown eyes fill with tears, muffling incoherent noises as a devilish smirk is strewn across her lips. "Quiet." She snaps, picking up the scarlet red telephone; placing it to her ears. "Stella, darling, I'm great—will you shut the fuck up like I told you to?—oh, just some pathetic guy, I'm killing him soon anyways— No, sorry, I'm picking the..." Her dagger cuts cleanly through the air, lodging straight into the midline of his torso, the metal, deviously, sunk its teeth into his skin, tissues erupting into a roar. "I think I was very clear about telling you to shut up. Sorry, Stell, I'm picking Mimi up from school. Send the cleaners, please." Her stilettos echo in the abandoned building, carelessly making her way around the masses of dead bodies lounging on the Grim Reaper's bridge.

"MAMA!" She shakes her head at her daughter's congenial nature, as she dashes towards her, after waving her little crowd of friends goodbye. They're all children of very wealthy families, Morana notes all of their faces and the mothers that wave their children over to them. Luuk Schmidt, that's Inger's son, who sends an amiable smile; he blushes slightly at Mieun's actions. Sasha Ivanov, daughter of the CEO of a large pharmaceutical company. A few other children whose parents are politicians, doctors but none are important to her. Finally, Park Kira. Daughter of Hades and Persephone. Morana can't help but be impressed at Mieun's friend group, it must be her intelligence and undeniable beauty. "What's for dinner today?" Ruffling Mieun's hair, she guides her daughter out of the exit as they discuss dinner options.

“Mrs Song?” She turns in her step to look behind, a woman slender in physique with a fitted dress, long, black silky hair stares at her in sincere judgement. She is dressed to the nines, but Morana's sleek look somehow makes Persephone feel inferior.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Park.” Her hand settles on her daughter’s shoulder who stares back at Kira, sensing the underlying tension between them. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She instigates.

“My daughter, Kira, would like to organise a play date with your daughter—if that’s ok with yourself?”

“Ah yes, of course. Mimi, would you like to play with Kira over, let’s say, the weekend?” She suggests, darting her eyes to Eunha who gives a subtle nod of agreement. The weekend works best for them. Mieun is quick to agree, Morana is relieved—she admits she would be annoyed if her daughter disagreed; that would soil her mission.

"If you don't mind staying over, Mrs Song? The ladies and I usually arrange a tea party but seeing Kira only wants Mieun over, you and I can have a natter, can't we?" Morana conceals the smirk simmering beneath her skin, a look of innocence feigned instead.

"That would be lovely."

Mingi is mildly taken aback by how quickly Mieun has become close friends with Park Kira; yet, he is not one to complain as his wife eagerly announces that both of them have been invited to the Park Estate. Absent-mindedly, he fiddles with the microchip between his fingers, watching as his wife slips on a pair of pearl earrings before hastily rummaging through her cupboard for a pair of heels. He remains silent, simply observing from the corner, as she flurries around in a slight panicked state.

To begin with, Mingi is cautious for two primary reasons.

First, Mrs. Park had always been considered a reserved woman, and the idea of her inviting another woman to tea—especially one not a member of The Cosmopolitan—strikes him as somewhat dubious. Second, Mrs. Song is an enigmatic figure. Though he can't tell if it's because his knowledge of women is rather lacklustre, or that it is, in fact, the truth that she has somehow been moulded into a different human. There are late nights she justifies by claiming to close up the library, and the bruises that mark her body seem to be symptoms of anaemia. Her sharp intellect, which many attribute to her love of knowledge, only adds to the mystery. If she really was Mieun's mother, he would have been able to understand why the child was so bright. Therefore, the chip isn't just to spy on Park Eunha, it's for her too.

Stealing one last glance of herself from the mirror, she turns on her heel, summoning her husband's attention. Her hands clasp into fists at her side, "How do I look?" She asks, softly, her breath like a cloud of heaven, dropped from the sky to bless his ears with her voice.

"Beautiful." A relieved smile settled on her lips, he stood up from the bed, strolling towards her. He stops in front, adjusting the clip in her hair and smoothing down the collar of her dress shirt. "You are beautiful." He whispers. His sincerity has her heart fluttering in awe of him—their intimate moment is cut short by Mieun stomping into the room.

"Mama! I can't find my red shoes!" Shaking his head at her, Mingi ushers her out of the room towards her own as they begin to hunt for her 'Dorothy slippers'; as her father likes to call them.

The Park Estate stands as a grand testament to an ancient opulence, nestled amongst sprawling acres of manicured grounds. It's coppery stone façade, boasts arched windows and intricate wrought-iron balconies. In the middle, stands a large water fountain where mist lightly sprays against the surface of the cobblestone path that paves the entrance down to the home. With Mieun sitting in her arms, she tightens her grip sauntering down the lane, to the doorway of the home where the household's domestic staff run up and down the corridors. Morana shifts the weight of her feet, standing uncomfortably in the foyer as she is instructed to wait for Mrs Park; Mieun wiggles out of her grip persisting to be put down. Inside, the rooms are vast and richly decorated, with heavy velvet drapes, antique chandeliers, and polished mahogany furniture. The manor emits the quiet confidence of old money, with its precise refinement. There is no doubt Eunha keeps the household on a tight leash.

The terrifying click of heels down the staircase snaps her away from her thoughts— her gaze follows Eunha walk down with Kira skipping to Mieun in front of her. “Mrs Song! Welcome! Come join me in the parlour, are you ok with Mieun playing Kira outside? My butler will supervise them?” She nods in agreement, pinching Mieun’s cheeks before following the lady of the household. She’s seen this place before, having infiltrated it, under the cover of the night, they've just passed the East wing where she knows Hades keeps his information. Passing the butler perched outside Eunha's wing, he swings open the door before gently shutting it behind them. They settle on a plush maroon sofa, her weight sinks the sofa enveloping her in a secure warmth.

In the shadowed silence, a figure glided effortlessly through the corridors, his every movement fluid and purposeful. The air was thick with an oppressive stillness, broken only by the sigh of relief as he watches his wife saunter into the room, unbeknownst of his presence. His butler's attire blended seamlessly with the surroundings. Nestled among the towering oak doors and gilded arches, he ventured deeper into the quarters; the glint of the brass handles guiding him through the halls. Each nook and cranny was carefully articulated into his mind, he knows to the right unfolds Hades' rooms but the study is more useful to him. Shallow breaths infiltrate the tense atmosphere, his hand brushing the surface of the door handle, twisting the knob before pushing himself in.

In the drawing room, the delicate clink of porcelain on fine china punctuated the room, the faint scent of chamomile filling the air. The assassin sat with poised elegance, her fingers wrapped delicately around a teacup; beneath the soft, maternal façade, lay a woman far more dangerous than she appeared. Across from her, Eunha sipped her tea with a languid grace, unaware that the pleasant conversation flowing between them was, in fact, a carefully crafted performance.

"Well I told you about our meet cute, where did you and your Mr Park meet?" Morana feigned a melody of curiosity with just the right amount of innocence.

"Our marriage was arranged, you see. My father was eager to marry me off, and consulted the youngest business partner that he knew. At the time, Hw—Seo—." She stutters over her words, Morana narrowing her eyes as Eunha presses the tips of her fingers to her mouth; she is unsure of how she is supposed to address him. "Seung Cheol wasn't interested in me but my father is a persuasive man." A faint blush falls on her cheeks, yet Mrs Song nods her head with a mild understanding.

"Well, all things work out in the end, don't they?" Eunha's hands tremble slightly as she lowers the teacup from her lips.

"I guess." Releasing a shaky breath, she regains her carefully, composed exterior. "Where did you say your husband worked again? Teikoku Research? No wonder, your daughter scored top." Morana lets out a succulent laugh, leaning back into her seat.

“Yes, but do not ask me of the specifics of his job role. I’ve often wondered about the more… serious matters, the ones that always seem to pull our husbands away at the oddest times. Does your husband ever speak of such things? I imagine his work takes him to all sorts of places, doesn’t it?” A moment of silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. Then, with a smooth, calculated grace, Mrs Park replied, her voice now a shade colder.

“My husband is a very private man. He prefers not to discuss his affairs with me.” The assassin leaned back slightly, her smile never faltering; the pieces were starting to fit together. With a casual flick of her wrist, she refilled both their cups, her eyes scanning the room for anything out of place.

"Of course," she said gently, eyes glimmering with a hidden agenda, "Some things are better left untouched, aren’t they? After all, what would us, women, understand?" Eunha's eyes glaze with an amalgamation of emotions that include sadness and fear, it betrays the façade she has tried so hard to maintain. She is just too innocent for this world, forced to hide and stay quiet under her husband's sins.

Mingi creases his brows as he adjusts the ear piece glued to his canal; Mrs Song's artful questions are something for him to praise as he assesses there is an underlying current of inquisitiveness laid within them. Something that extends the mere nature of curiosity, as if there is some deeper knowledge she is aiming to acquire. At this point, it is hard to believe that this arrangement doesn't benefit her in more ways than one. His hands rifle through the cabinet of useless files, sliding open drawers, slender fingers sliding down each corner of furniture in an attempt to find something. He should know better, Hades would never keep something so valuable to him in sight, and by Eunha's own statements, it seems she isn't exactly willing to disclose any information about her husband.

"Is your husband affectionate, Mrs Song?" His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, freezing in his action as he anticipates his wife's response. A chorus of high-pitched merriments entrail in his ear.

She...giggled?

"We've held hands and Mieun isn't my biological child so I think that tells you everything. What about your husband, is he affectionate or does he like to keep to himself, too?"

"When I see him, again, usually at this time of year, he might give me a kiss on the forehead if he's in the mood."

Usually at this time of year, huh?

He probes his head for important dates, anything that could provoke Hades' entrance into Oka. His ninth wedding anniversary is coming up soon, if his marriage means anything to him.

"I'd love to stay longer, Mrs Park but I think my husband might be getting hungry, hence I have dinner to prepare." The resounding click of heels against the ancient wooden floorboards, tears him away from his thoughts. He aligns the sheets of paper back into a uniform fashion, before his eyes dart to the copy of the 'Odyssey' perched on the table. Two copies.

Both Apollo's and Hades'.

"We had samgyetang, and then played tag before the old lady told us to go inside." Her stubby finger points to the butler, who sends Mrs Song a sheepish smile. Adjusting the scarf around her neck, the two girls embrace each other before bidding their goodbye's. Before her, Eunha knits her brows, staring ahead of the figure sauntering to them. Calculatedly, she throws her eyes over her shoulder before, briskly, spinning on her heel.

“Mingi? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be seeing Wooyoung to the train station?”

“Yes, but then I missed you.” She blinks once. Then twice. Thrice, for consolidation. Stalking towards her, he presses his lips to her forehead, breath catching in her throat. His pinkie finger slides under the collar, swooping up the microchip before placing his hand into his blazer pocket. “Besides, the days are getting shorter and it’s unsafe for my wife and child to walk home, unchaperoned.” Eunha coos at the couple, her lips twist into a genuine smile as she ushers for Kira to come back inside. Scooping up Mieun's figure, she rests her head on his chest, sliding another arm around his wife's waist before they bid a final goodbye to the Park's. Mingi wonders if Eunha has recognised him, whether it be from his stature, to the sound of his voice. After all, they've met in a time before. A time where Hades had introduced him to his wife.

"I didn't know you were growing out your hair, what's with the change?" Both agents are crouched behind a low wall, the cool wind tousling their hair.

"Just felt like it. Why is it weird?" Hades asks after a single beat.

"Apollo, there's a target—" The gun fires at the target behind him, hitting his enemy straight between the eyes.

"No, it's not weird." It's Hades' turn to fire his gun behind him. "I think it's a good look actually, where are you hoping to grow it out to?" Gunshots resound the air, bodies dropping to the floor like dominoes.

"Just above my shoulder, maybe I'll dye it later."

"No, don't be an idiot—."

"Are you both, fucking, deaf?" Athena snarls, panting as she lands on the roof out of breath. "There's a fucking bomb about to detonate in about two minutes and you're sat here like you're having a tea party."

"Now, now, Athena, all that language isn't good for the baby." She rolls her eyes at Hades' remark, as they tumble through the skylines as fast as they can. "Oh, Apollo, will you come meet my wife? She's been asking about you."

Apollo huffs, as he skids across the cobbled rooftop. "You know, I still can't believe you're married."

"The Dad was paying good money." They both snicker, as Athena rolls her eyes.

Men.

The wind submitted to her every command, the delicate air carrying her away through the desolate city with a melancholic heart. Her body fell into the shadows as she leapt from one building to another, Morana's movements were slick. Careful. Deliberate. Perched like a spider on the wooden ledge of a collapsing ceiling, she cocks her head to the side as the room fills with important disciples of her establishment. They stand in their long black robes and silver masks, in two long rows either side of the room, awaiting for their leader to arrive. She has never met the Liege, not in person anyway, and she doesn't intend to either. A meeting with their leader means death. Instead, her legs dangle over the edge, eyes fulgurating around the room as she notices an influx of her fellow assassins enter; tucked away in corners. They wave at each other in their own funny little fashion. Morana is one of three women called, so she blows her kisses to the men, who are evidently charmed by her. Whilst seduction is not her best skill, her undeniable beauty has always drawn the scrutiny of lustful men.

"Let the meeting commence."

"May our client, Hades, come forth." A man steps out from the line of men, standing in front of the leader— he, who himself is masked in gold, clearly distinguishing himself from his disciples. "How may we help you, Hades?" The assassins' taunting laugh resounds in the room, their figures unseen as they become at one with the shadows.

"I see that my key is both a magnet for Legion and the Agency, yet should I remind you that setting your hands on it would merely mean imminent death?" His voice is deep, emanating with an authority that commands attention; his words reverberate through the air like a distant thunder preceding his primal essence. "You promised me, you would take out Apollo."

"You did, when the time comes, I will send my men." The Liege promises; it feels rather hollow in comparison to the weight of Hades' intimidation.

"You don't see me as a threat, do you?" He taunts, instigating a spectral silence to befall over the room. "In fact, make it interesting, send me your best and I will send you their head."

“Oh I will send you my best, and she will give me your heart.” A sea of eyes flicker to the corner of the room where she is enveloped within the barge of shadows.

“Everybody has a weakness, Your Honour. Even your General Morana.” Her brow raises in interest. She, herself, wonders what her greatest weakness would be.

“And only God would know what it is—do you believe that there is a God, Hades?”

“I believe that there is a higher power.”

“Then do you believe in fate or destiny?” Morana's eyes narrow, where, exactly, is this going?

“Somewhat, what should I make of this, your Liege?” Hades responds, as if he has read her thoughts and is disinterested in his Liege's provocations.

“That fate has parted you from my General to save the satisfaction of your blood befalling on her hands.” The night releases a harsh sigh upon her Liege's declaration, her hand slides off the aging timber of the abandoned church, feet fixed to the narrow ledge she stands upon. Her body shifts, ever so slightly, the moon casting a fateful light upon her body, illuminating her presence. Those who have not seen her, have seen her now. Hades has seen her now.

"Where have you been?" He sits in the armchair, just across from the fireplace, a steely gaze boring into her. With a breath hitched in her throat, she remains silent as he approaches with an air of intimidation, his round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, loose strands of hair framing his sharp cheekbones; clad in grey sweatpants and a baggy jumper as he towers over her. There's no doubt Mingi always looks good, but when he's stripped bare of his sobriety: he looks even better. With the minimal distance between them; she cannot help but admire him— god, he's beautiful in some sort of sadistic way. As if he stole the fires of beauty from Aphrodite and had been carved from her prowess. As if he was forged from some kind of celestial plane, naked to the human eye, forced to submit under his divine grace. He's apollo, a thing so eternal. His large hand moves to settle on her delicate waist, "I was so worried about you. Where did you go?" His whispers are echoes of hymns sung by a choir of angels.

"I—,” She stutters under his potent eye, heart palpitating faster than it has ever done in a life-threatening mission. Hell, she's even been close to a detonating bomb and still, it is Song Mingi, who has raised as the beat of her heart as if he is the vessel that keeps her moving. Her fingertips graze the soft fabric of his sleeve before firmly resting on the back of his neck, his siren eyes flutter under her supple caress. Why does he feel so weak? "I went on a walk." Snickering at her own poor excuse, she dares herself to not move, the warmth from his palms is all she needs.

"A walk?" He repeats, raising an eyebrow in inquisition. Her eyes trickle to the mole beneath his eye, she wonders what it would feel like to just press her lips against it.

"Yes, there's a very nice park around the corner. I don't recommend going around this time though, there's many prostitutes." She warns.

"Ah, all the more reason to go then." He jokes, Mrs Song snorts, her chest suspiring as the melodious chorus of laughter spills from her soft lips. A grin pulls on his face, when she realises: has she just seen Mingi smile for the first time? Snaking his arms to her back, she is pulled in, sinking into him, feeling the weight of his chin upon her head. "I'm joking. You’re enough for me.”

Stella. An associate of Morana, or rather she likes to call her, a subordinate. The infamous assassin strolls into the library, making her way down the aisles where a woman stands on the farther end, stacking books onto the shelf. They're all books in a language, foreign to Hala, hence who better to ask than the woman herself whose name roams the seven seas. "M." Stella greets, with the subtle dip of her head, her grey eyes boring into the decaying books on the antique shelf. "Alles ruhig an der Westfront." Her mutter prompts the book to fall out of the shelf into Morana's hands, her heels click purposefully on the floor towards the front desk with Stella passing by, throwing down War and Peace.

"Why did they send you here?" Morana asks, as she files the card behind the front desk. Stella eyes the lollipops in the jar at the front desk that Mrs Sam has left to lure the kids into reading books.

"Didn't think marriage was in the cards for you but then again, I don't know you that well." Legion doesn't think she can balance domesticity and murdering. "Though, your husband is one hunk of a man. I'm almost jealous." Her fingers flip open the pages of All Quiet on the Western Front, slipping out the clean sheet slotted between the pages, tucking it into her skirt pocket.

"Is Legion questioning my capabilities?" To any other they may have been perceived as two devotees of literature, with the way Morana tilts her head to the side, Stella clutches her book as if she is conversing about it. "They can cut ties and I can find jobs elsewhere, I don't need them but they need me." Her shrewd, low voice sends a scathing shiver down her associate's spine.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." As Riko slips into her line of sight, Morana slides out a sheet from under the desk, handing it over to the lady in front; taking the hint she receives the paper with a smile.

"I would be because I didn't sleep my way up to the top, I'm not tied down by my body." They switch to a dialect of Arabi. Stella's grimace doesn't go overlooked by herself. The telephone at the front desk sends a startling ring, Morana steals the line before Mrs Sam wakes up from her nap and answers it, baffling the caller.

"Hala Library, how can I help—Mingi? You're going to be home late? Ah ok, yes the school bus will drop Mimi. What about dinner? Ok. I'll see you at home, don't overwork yourself." Within Stella's eyes there holds a barge carrying her emotions, her morals, her modesty; all trapped in neat containers that she had locked away when she had devoted her life to Legion. Morana has sent a sturdy blow to those shipments, kicking the balance straight under Stella's feet. "Oh baby, don't be so upset. Next time try to use your head, instead of your heart."

Ahead, the coffee shop came into view, its warm, amber glow spilling through the large windows, contrasting with the sharp chill of the evening air. The door swung open with a soft chime as Apollo stepped inside; the aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit him first, its comforting bitterness masking the tension that coiled beneath the surface. He sends a single nod to the barista before slipping his way to the back, where he saunters up the stairs and to the room right at the back. The café is a front for Agency business and each aspect of it coordinates to its said trade.

A current of air follows his salient prescience into the room, where Athena is perched behind a desk, bayonetta glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. Her eyes flicker up at Apollo, through the top frame of her glasses, she closes shut the file she was scrutinising; sliding it across to him as he takes a seat in front of her. They speak of important fixtures with minimal words, he takes the hint that the file is important to his current operation.

NAME: ? ALIAS: MORANA BODY COUNT: 100+ CLASSIFICATION: DANGEROUS

His sharp eyes stare at Athena from across the table, "Do you want to tell me something I don't already know?"

"You're not the only one after that key. According to one of my informants, Hades is essentially under Legions' witness protection but they want what he has. As Morana is their most powerful associate, I have a feeling she's after that key too." Yet, it has always been hard for him to identify her in a crowd of people. She is at one with the night, blended amongst the silhouette of buildings, blinking down at him with the stars — mockingly, as he searches the ends of the earth for her.

"Well it would be helpful to know what she looks like, or even if I was just at that meeting." He resists the urge to scowl, throwing his head, long limbs slumping across the chair; a stark juxtaposition to his usually composed act but here he is with his age-old friend— Apollo can be a different man here. "December 16th, Moscow. We lost all five of our highly-trained operatives to, her."

The wind howls, as an unbridled phantom slips through the slither of light beaming from the transparent windows of their base. Apollo rubs his hands together, the frictional forces generating heat as his body withstands the harsh pressures of cold lacerating their supple skin. He remembers sliding his unwavering gaze over to Hades, who stares in such an unemotional state at a photo of his wife, thinking if the man truly loves her. But love is not an emotion neither of them can ever afford having. Athena rests her hand on her baby bump, it's a wonder the board has still deemed her fit to run missions in the field. He recalls the silence of the moment, as all three of them eventually lock their gazes onto the burner phone. When it buzzes Athena throws her whole body for it, only for her steely face to drop at the news; they've never seen her this disappointed before.

"We've lost all five of our contacts. Apollo, I need your eyes. You, with me." Athena and Hades disperse from the base faster than he can blink, his tall body dashes over to where his sniper is. His siren eyes peer through the cold, glass lens of his sniper scope, following the swift movements of his associates as they dart towards the building opposite to them, but that is not the focus of his attention. Rather, it lies in the window, fronting his own—where his client lies; dependent on the Agency's protection. In the darkness of the room, a shadow moved with unnerving precision, closer towards his client. His finger brushes across the trigger guard Hades dashes up the staircase, a full floor below where chao is about to ensue.

A gleam of silver haunts Apollo, the projectile scream of his *client* terrorises the air. Hades has stopped in his path, Athena's gaze snaps up to the staircase laid before her.

Three fingers raised: the forefinger, middle and ring, on her left hand. Her M.O.

Morana has seen them.

"You've got one more week." Stella adds, sipping on her cup of tea as Morana stirs the brimming cup of coffee almost overflowing into the porcelain saucer. Mieun pats her arm gently, ushering for the half-cut muffin. "You'll make her plump with all of those sweets." Morana gives her subordinate a harsh stare before handing over the muffin.

"She's a child, besides she doesn't eat sweets at home." Griping, she downs the coffee in one gulp, wiping her lips with the handkerchief. "What are you doing about, Hades?" Stella waves her away her question, as if it's pointless. Perhaps it is, even if Legion gifts him her presence; it will be his heart that she ships back to Persephone.

"He's just a loose end. If the worst comes to worst, take him out. Even the Agency doesn't need him, they just want to stop him, imprison him, whatever. Who gives a shit, just get that key." Stella darts her siren gaze across the cup, "Oh, and be careful about Apollo. He's probably after that key too. So make sure he doesn't get his hands on it."

It is her turn to dismiss Stella, "That man can't hurt a fly."

"Careful, sixteen men down in three minutes. You've done twelve in four." Cocking an eyebrow in amusement, she leans back in her seat, tucking a strand of hair behind Mieun’s ear. “You’re getting soft.”

“Careful.” Morana mocks, a flicker of the devil himself tugging on her sharp features. “I can dismember you with that butter knife.” Stella smirks.

There she is.

A deep sigh rolls from his pink lips, he scrunches his nose before placing his coat on the peg. A faint aroma of washing up liquid lingers in the air, he passes his gaze through the immaculately clean kitchen. It's 8PM now, Mieun has closed her books and gone to bed, whilst his wife occupies the living room with a book in hand. He settles next to her, resting his briefcase onto the table casting his gaze over the words scrawled across the page. "What are you reading?" He asks, so innocently, as if he hadn't come back from a small mission of defusing a bomb in Oka's clocktower. Most likely a Hades antic, he thought as Athena paged him.

"White Nights by Dostoevsky." She remarks, turning a page, before her gaze moves to him. "You know, he mentions Nastenka’s name at least 138 times or so in the entirety of the novel and she never asks for his." He hums in response, shifting his body to face her.

"I couldn't imagine someone saying my name that many times, in a lifetime." A thought so literal to her entity. Hasn't she only been gone by her alias?

"I can start now if you'd like. If I go at the correct rate, I can reach 138 by the end of the night." Mingi, light-heartedly, jokes. Shaking her head at him, she closes the book in hand. "You know I realised that I haven't taken you out on a date in a long time."

"You've never taken me out on a date."

"We snuck out for cake two weeks ago. Wasn't that a date?" Mingi argues, as a grin forces his way to his lips. He frequently feels a peculiar consternation with his wife. Apollo always knows the right things to say, yet with his wife he does not quite know where his rationality disperses to. He’s always been a stoic man, yet with her his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. "I can take you out next week." After the mission. After he has dealt with Hades and hands him back to the Agency.

"Oh no, I can't. I'm closing up the library— what's that? Is that a cut?" A small gash permeates down the side of his face, almost obscured by his long locks. Ah yes, he also had to encounter a few loose ends. 'White Nights' is abandoned somewhere, and Mrs Song scuttles to the kitchen coming back with a damp cloth. "How did you get this?" Mingi can't help but feel intimidated by her authoritative tone, her clothed finger gently rubs down his temple—most of it is just dried blood. He watches the way her eyebrows furrow with careful concentration, softening as the touch of the soft curves of her lips.

"I'll take you out on a date, Mrs Song, next week. Whether you like it or not."

Morana stood motionless atop the clocktower, the night air biting against her cloak as the sprawling city stretched beneath her feet, its lights flickering like a thousand unbroken stars. Her cold, unwavering gaze was fixed upon the distant horizon, where the grand silhouette of the Park estate loomed. With an almost imperceptible shift of her weight, she descended from the tower, moving with the practiced grace of a shadow. Navigating the winding rooftops, the pulse of the city was drowned in the rhythm of her movements, both purposeful and silent.

With poise, she slips between the cracks of Park’s security force, sliding through the window; the tips of her toes trailing amongst the floorboards towards Persephone’s rooms. It’s a shame that a woman bred from the tree of debauchery could not be as conniving as her predecessors. She’s cut from a fabric of sheen, of delicacy and vulnerability — Eunha adores her husband and would lay down her life for him, but the key is not with her. It's with him.

A patter of silent footsteps crawl into the room that she’s concealed within. Yet she’s not alone, the rooftops are busy with another figure. Apollo, probably. Her lips curl into a knowing smile.

This is going to be fun.

Simultaneously, another two figures draw into the room — as if the next act of this grand performance has begun. A spectral stifle diffuses through the room, Apollo stood with his usual stoic presence, the weight of years spent in the shadows barely registering on his sharp features. With a gaze cold his siren eyes were neatly obscured behind his hood and mask; there resigned a flicker of painful nostalgia as he casted a calculated gaze over his adversary. Standing across from him, Hades cut a striking contrast. Tall and slender, his figure was draped in a dark, almost ethereal manner. His raven-black hair framed his face in a way that softened the sharpness of his features. He was clad in a dark, tailored suit that gave him an air of nobility, exuding a quiet, unsettling charisma. Where Apollo had once been his friend, Hades had become a phantom—an enigmatic figure who walked past the line of salvation, to damnation. Apollo’s lips twitched slightly, not quite a smile, but something borne of recognition. "I never thought I’d see you again, Seonghwa." He said, his voice low, cutting through the silence.

Hades met his gaze, his lips curling into a smirk. "And yet, here we are," He responded coolly. Hidden in the shadows of the room, Morana breaths ceased as the deep voice travelled to the crevices she was tucked within. Apollo. There was something so familiar about his voice, as if she had heard it before in a comfort that only existed when the stars were untamed by the night. His figure too, tall with broad shoulders. His face. She just needed to see his face. "I've missed you, brother."

"You can't call me that." Apollo interjects, steadfast in his words. Not after he had spent haunting nights mourning the loss of one he had poured his heart out to and trusted, as if there was the same blood running through their veins. Seonghwa snickers, shaking his head slumping down onto the maroon leather chair legs sprawled out before him. His nonchalance startles Mingi for a split second, with his rationality restored the spy subtly begins a careful stance, almost slipping from Morana's field of vision.

"I really pity you, Min. You've always been blinded by your allegiance to the Agency. No matter how intelligent you are, you'll never realise that their morals are just as convoluted as any other network of assailants I now work with." A single blink, Seonghwa cocks his head to the side, a nefarious smile tugging at his lips. "What is it about the Agency that makes what they do right? The fact that they're legal?" Morana can't help but agree with Hades, the Agency have got their fair share of dirty secrets and innocent blood on their ledger. At least Legion takes out those the Agency holds a blind eye to.

"You've never been a rule follower, Seonghwa." A vicious drawl of laughter empties into the room. "Let's just end this here, tonight. I'll ask you nicely, hand yourself over to the Agency."

"Or?" Seonghwa provokes, resting his chin in the palm of his hands. A cold gust of air permeates into the room, the window is large enough for her to fit through.

"Or I will hand you over to them myself, bloody, bruised, broken or dead."

"That's my boy." Hades rises from his seat, Apollo takes a step back initiating a threatening stance. Morana darts from her corner, swinging her body towards Hades, her fingers reaching for the silver chain looped around his neck. With a robust pull, she tears the chain from him before tearing her body out of the window with Hades firm behind her.

The moon hung low, casting silver shadows over the sprawling mansion; Morana leaped from rooftop to rooftop, her heart pounding like a war drum. Each footfall was silent on the slate tiles as she darted past chimneys and skylights, her eyes briefly scanning for Hades behind her, then Apollo behind him. Quickening her pace, the rush of wind in her ears nearly drowned his menacing laughter. Apollo observed, his pulse racing as he followed Hades' every move. He propelled himself forward, landing just behind Seonghwa.

Hades lunged forward, his long strides closing the distance between them in seconds, his slender fingers curled around her forearm. With a swift movement, he pulled her towards him, fist connecting with her jaw in a brutal punch. The crack of bone echoed in the night air, and she staggered back, her vision momentarily blurred. “Is that all you’ve got?” She spat, wiping blood from her lip. She pivoted, launching a kick aimed at his abdomen. Just as Hades advanced again, a blur shot past, and Apollo tackled him from the side, tumbling across the rooftop - the tiles scraping against their skin. "Oh no, darling, this ones mine." Tearing away from Apollo's mighty grip, Hades charged at Morana like a bull, his fury driving him forward. With little time to react as he closed the gap, in a swift motion, she drew a knife from her belt and thrust it forward, the blade glinting in the moonlight. It found its mark, slicing into his shoulder. Grunting, Seonghwa stumbled backwards, falling to his knees and he began panting heavily.

Apollo flickered his gaze between Morana and Hades, before darting her way, himself.

I still need that key.

No myth, no legend or number of transcripts could truly depict Morana’s brutality; he’s lost count of the number of punches she throws per sequence, her movements are fluid and she moves in such fashion, that it seems inevitable that she will win. Blood dribbles, ruthlessly, down his mouth, he spits it out before turning with a crazed look. He must win now, to get the Key. To complete the mission and save Hala. To go back home to his wife and daughter.

Swinging her leg, a powerful squall of wind hits Apollo’s side, whilst her leg is still heading for his temple, he leans back, swooping his longer leg under her feet. Losing her stance, her body falls backwards, back hitting again the slate pummelling a wave of agony through her. Apollo dives, straddling her hips, securing both of her hands above her head. His fingers loop around the hem of her mask, her eyes widen in realisation of his intentions. Wrestling his robust grip, her hand fires out toward his own mask; before they know it the pair rip, synchronously, rip away their disguises.

It has never felt so quiet in Oka. Nor in the Park Estate, even when the owner’s staggered breaths persist through the silver dagger pierced through his collarbone. At the moment, Apollo doesn’t care about Hades, Athena will get to him should he decide to run away. His eyes cast over Morana, her identity no longer obscured by the night. Years chasing after her, running through files, latching onto every clue of her. Years of chasing, for her to become his wife in a single night.

“You—Mingi?” She questions, with staggered breaths as he rises from his knees, feet frozen to the ground as he stares down at his lover in confusion. “Mingi? Who are you?” She asks, her eyes flooding with tears in quick realisation that she had almost slaughtered her husband.

Yet all Mingi can feel is his heart shattering, the pieces sinking into an abyss sailing over the length of his body.

She’s a liar. So is he.

“Mingi! WHO ARE YOU?” She shouts, lips quivering as she, pathetically, fights back the tears. He cannot speak, she’s grabbing his shoulders now, throwing questions at him, shaking them. Screaming at him, holding herself back from pounding her fists against his chest; she may just batter the air from his lungs. “You lied to me! You-you said you were, you said that—,” She stops, breath lodged in the crux of her throat. Song Mingi has said a lot of things. None of them have ever been true.

“You lied to me t—,”

“You’re Apollo.” She interjects, the pieces have fallen into place. The lies, the façade, the quick thinking. The baby, the apartment, his coordination. The late nights, the cuts and bruises, the exhaustion. The warning from her establishment of him, a spy, roaming the city terrorising the land with his altruism. Protecting the demons from her wrath.

Apollo is here.

Apollo is him.

Apollo is Song Mingi.

Apollo is my husband.

“You’re Apollo.” She repeats, her voice cracks, palm pressed against her mouth to hold back the pained sobs. Because she knows what they really wanted her to do to him. Because it’s finally registered for some reason, that of course, Apollo is Song Mingi and she is just a woman riddled with hurt.

"You’re Morana." Tears well in the corners of Mingi’s eyes, his chest tightening as he struggles to breathe. A hollow sorrow envelops him, his heart aches—a stinging pain that pulses through him with each passing second. Each second surpasses in anguish, his head throbs, heart palpitating; feeling as though the ground beneath his feet was slipping under him. His sadness swiftly morphs into something darker, more dangerous, as the anger intensifies—raw, uncontrollable. "You lied to me too." Mingi's voice trembles, laden with fury, yet there's an undercurrent of sorrow that seeps through. "You’re a threat. A danger." He hisses through gritted teeth.

“Oh, how rich of you to say that to me when you’ve got just as much blood on your hands.” A shaky breath escapes her lips, eyes glossing with tears. Moving her body away from him, she takes gentle steps away from the rooftops, leaving him stranded with Hades. He lets her, because Mingi already knows that from the moment she knew of his real persona, he had lost her anyway.

Her back collides against the wooden panels, she grits her teeth as Mingi holds an unwavering stare, her shoulders plastered to his hands. The dim light of the living room drapes over the side of his profile, his hard eyes penetrate into her own. Tackling his brute force, she pushes herself off from the wall, his neck strangled by her forearm. Falling to his knees, his fingers claw at her strength every wheeze like a beg for salvation. Reluctantly, he stops prying away from her; her heart skips a beat at his subservience. Instead, he raises three fingers, like her M.O. Her eyes well up with tears, again, the grip around his neck loosens. Mingi pants for air, his wife turning away from him as pearl tears slip down her cheek. “I can’t do it, I can’t hurt you like that. Not now that you’re you.”

“How didn’t I know? How did I just foolishly believe that you were my wife?” Whipping around, her eyes fulfil with a sense of fury.

“I am your wife, Mingi. I’m also the mother of your daughter. Before you, I am a member of Legion.”

“You were my wife and the step-mother of my daughter. You are first and foremost a member of Legion.” Stepmother. How is it possible that a word can hurt more than an open wound? 'First and foremost you are my wife' he had once proclaimed. Men are such liars. "I've thought about it. I want you gone. I will willingly let you take my life, but I won't live with an assassin. It is against everything I stand for." He squeezes his eyes shut, an odd tingling sensation filling his nose. His throat burns with dejection, heart consumed by such sorrow. His hand grips the arm of the sofa, in hopes he won't bow before her. All he wants to do is kneel under the jurisdiction of her love; his poor heart has been compromised by her.

"I thought you stood for me." Mrs Song whispers, curling her paling fingers into a tight fist.

“Leave.” Is all that he can say. Her vision blurs as she shuts the door to their shared bedroom, reaching for the suitcase above the wardrobe. When the night sighs, and she knows Mingi has collapsed on the sofa, Morana sinks to her knees as tears spill down her cheeks, tickling her jawline before they patter onto the floor. Painful wails permeate the air, pharynx wrought with suffocation as she can barely breathe under his despotism. But his judgement is neither tyrannical or unfair. Rather it is justified, and she had just grabbed the short end of the stick. 

The following morning is sombre, her suitcase and bag are left near the front door. With the key given to Stella, she's no longer required to stay in Hala, but there's a small cottage on the outskirts of a village that she's been allocated a temporary stay before her next mission.

"Amma, are we going on holiday? I still have school tomorrow." Mieun's doe eyes stare up at her as she's perched by the doorway, slipping on her shoes. Mingi stands just behind Mieun, resting a hand on her shoulder, uttering for her to do her homework. "If Amma's going on holiday I want to go too."

"Mimi, listen to your Appa, ok? Amma is just going away for a while, for work." Not a complete lie. Her gaze is firm on her daughter, refusing to look back at her husband.

"You'll be back?" Her voice is timid, as she begins to realise that her parents have not shared an interaction since the morning has begun. Before she can speak, Mingi has already denied and Mieun's eyes brim with tears. Turning away, the door is swung open, bag slung around her shoulder in an attempt to hurry before she reasons with Mingi to stay. They both know it's not possible, their morals are too different.

“Mama!” Mieun’s painful sobs fulfilled the atmosphere, her arms outstretched for her mother, pearly tears streaming down her little face. “Mama, come back!” The ropes tied to her heart snapped under her innocent wails, bags dropped at the door rushing back towards Mieun. Mingi steps forward, yet before he can blink his daughter’s little body is swept up in a safe set of arms.

“Just let me hold her, Mingi. One last time. Let me hold her, please.” Her daughter’s body rocked within her arms, little hushes ceasing her sobs followed by soft sniffles. “It’s ok, Mimi, Amma is here. I’m not going anywhere.” This false delusion, she prays, her daughter does not hate her for. Soon, she will have nothing but the mere thought of Mieun to soothe her. Then at one point, Mieun may not even remember her at all. That’s the thing about children, they are blindly devout to the pursuit of love — hearts so pure even her daughter doesn’t know her parents’ hands are drenched in blood.

“Mimi, Amma won’t be gone for long.”

“Promise?” A breath is hitched in her throat, followed by an overwhelming urge to erupt into a fit of terrorising sobs.

“One way or another, Mama will be back. Ok?” The tears are gently wiped away from Mieun’s face, her eyes flickering towards Mingi’s stoic demeanour. It hurts her. Did she mean absolutely nothing to him?

The autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Mieun stepped out of the ivy-clad institute, her plaid skirt swishing around her knees. The clocktower chimes as the hour strikes three, her obedient eyes scour the sea of parents awaiting to pick up their children. She knows it's her father who will be picking her up; affirmed by the recognition of his tall figure standing by the wrought-iron gate, a small smile on his lips. However, it is her mother she is always seeking, standing closer to the entrance of the school her black kitten heels firm into the cobbled pathway. With a small grin, Mieun runs to him, he meets her halfway. She never needed to meet her mother halfway, she's distinctly told him this on many occasions. Mingi reaches for her leather satchel, encapsulating her minute hand into his; before he can proceed forward he is stopped by a soft voice.

"Mingi." He turns, meeting Park Eunha, who is holding Kira's hand. There's an amalgamation of Eunha's emotions in her eyes: hurt, guilt, betrayal, sadness. She must have only learnt of her husband's demise now. It's interesting, to him, how a woman wrought with poise and sophistication is now so timid before him. "Uhm, I haven't seen your wife in a while, is she ok?" His heart stuttered in his chest, sinking below the cavity. Mingi does nothing but nod because the thought of her does nothing but render him silent. Before he can move away again, she stops him.

"I don't blame you, for Seonghwa. He had it coming. I was just hoping you'd let me know when I can see him again, or if there's anything I can do to discharge him, a sum-," Mingi pivots, furiously, on his heel yet his hate is shattered as soon as he is met by her innocent face.

"No amount of money in the world can compensate for his sins, Eunha. You'll be contacted when you can see him."

He travels through the skylines in the midst of the night, just like his wife used to, soul heavy with emotions that he attempts to bury each night Athena sends him on a mission. One after another, each dreary escapade, the sounds of bodies thudding on concrete does not bring him relief for every sigh that the earth takes with its pollutants gone.

"You're not the same Apollo." His superior retorts as he throws the folder onto the table. With a raised eyebrow, he dismisses her words, watching her carefully as her steely eyes reel in the report. "Your wife is Morana, isn't she?" Gulping, Mingi resists the urge to nod. For every time he is reminded of her, it hurts.

"Was." He interjects.

"Oh you got a divorce?" Profusely shaking his head, she scoffs, "So then she's still your wife then, isn't she? Tell me, is she pretty?" Briefly Mingi shuts his eyes close, as if he's reliving the days where he would wake up to her puffy face, her pouty lips and ruffled bed hair.

"She's my Aphrodite."

He stood tall on the edge of the rooftop, dark silhouette blending in with the shadows of the night. The cold breeze tugged at the collar of his black coat, but he didn’t flinch. His gaze, sharp never left the building across the street, where chaos was unfolding. The sounds of muffled shouts and the occasional crack of glass echoed through the air as a fight broke out on the upper floors. His breath misted in the night air, siren eyes scanning each movement, analysing every shift. He had seen this kind of thing a thousand times — the slow resolve of control, the way the violence spread like wildfire — but tonight was different. As the moonlight flickered behind the building, Apollo’s sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something in the fray. A flash of familiar movement — a fluidity in the chaos.

There, among the shadows of the fight, was a figure he knew all too well.

His wife.

Morana moved like a shadow, each strike landing with precision. Her movements were both theatrical and deadly, as though she was in complete control of the situation. His breath faltered as a sigh escaped, shifting his position as he leaped from one rooftop to another towards the fight. Towards her.

Yamuriko - a beautiful small town on the outskirts of Hala, near the mountains as its name would suggest. Legion's safehouses are usually located in rural, unnoticeable areas. In a cottage, just about two miles away from the centre, the esteemed assassin sits on her porch as a steaming cup of jasmine tea sits beside in a fancy porcelain cup, one lowly assassin's are not even entitled to have.

"You look pathetically bored." Humming, she looks up from where she was staring intently at the lush grass, into her peers' eyes. 'The Black Fox' stares down at her from where she is sat, a folder fixed between his fingers. "Missing your daughter?" He questions, settling beside her, his broad shoulders almost push her out of her seat. Shuffling down, she simply hums holding out her hand for the file.

"Yeah, I miss my daughter too." A quietude is held amongst them, at least 'The Black Fox' can go back to his daughter. Her husband won't take her back. "I miss my wife." Biting on the inside of her lip, she flicks through the file, ignoring his words.

Site: Oka, Hala

A trembling whisper, "I miss my husband, too."

Releasing a sigh wrought with exhaustion, she takes her seat on the limp torso—her head sinking beneath her shoulders. Eighteen in two minutes, thirty seconds. Maybe Stella is right, she's gone all soft and slow. Tugging off the hood, she rips away her gloves, stuffing them deep into her pockets before her eyes steal the hands on the clock, again. Her ears tune into the heavy footsteps of a figure dashing up the staircase. Right, left, right, left. It holds a certain weight that she has only heard in its less panicked state. "I never thought I'd see you here, Apollo." Her voice holds a slither of spite, she raises her head slightly as the enigmatic figure stands, plastered to the doorway. A shaky breath escapes from him, as he seals the clasp holding his dagger. "I just realised, I have ruined your job, again. " Morana's taunts disorientate him as he takes careful steps towards her, pushing his way through the room full of dead bodies. It's her, she's taking his missions. Killing all of his men, so mercilessly he was forced to believe that maybe the devil had really left hell. He remains silent, whether to provoke her or that her presence has really left him stunned; he will never know. It disgusts her, like excess skin and oily hair, like grime under nails and unclean spaces. She feels so repulsed by his ignorance of her, all this for him to say nothing and stare into her as if she is nothing but a transparent soul, eradicated from his life.

"It’s been six months and twenty-seven days since you left." He utters, his large hand moving to raise her chin—as she stands to her feet, his eyes are complete with grief.

"You counted the days."

"Do you want me to tell you the hours?" Her fingers curled into fists, her body trembling as she fights to keep the tears at bay.

He even counted the hours.

His palms gently cradled her face, a quiet warmth in his touch, his lips move in disorientation as if he is unable to commit to the words that are begging to be expressed. She laughs, it almost startles him yet he holds his ground with concerned eyes boring into her. The laughter becomes less sardonic, brewing into a melancholic kind wrought with immense agitation.

It’s no longer laughter.

It’s sobbing.

“I don’t know who’s worse, or if we’re just as bad as each other?” He remains as quiet as the night they both revel in, in a state of despair that for the first time he is the villain in this story. “Every moment I had spent with you, I felt like a wife and a mother. I believed I had a husband providing for me and a baby who needed me to keep her warm.” They’re words she has spent nights scribbling away in books until the words can no longer form the same sorrow that resides with her. Words she had so wished she had least spoken aloud to him, on the night he let her go.

“Instead. I got a man who deceived me and a child that still thinks I’m her mother. I don’t care that you hurt me, but Mieun? Is she even your baby? I could never forgive you." Tearing away from his grasp, the warmth of his touch dissipates leaving her separate—yet wholly yearning for his touch, every fibre of her being aches for him. To be held by him, to be loved by him, to be honoured and worshipped; why were these notions of the past?

“I—I adopted Mieun for the sole purpose of this mission. I just needed to get to Hades and you were both the key.” Scoffing, she averts her gaze outside of the window; Legion has always been two steps ahead of the Agency, has he not realised how useless Hades really is? Closing her eyes, her chest surges as it fills with the burning sensation of despair.

"What have you done with her now? Where is she?" That same authoritative tone, no longer withstanding care.

"She's still with me. I am not a tyrant, I would never send her back to that orphanage." He argues.

"Well, I wouldn't know Mingi because I don't really know you, do I? As far as I believed, I was wrong."

"Don't say that." His voice is weak and almost cracks under her brusque proclamation. “I’m struggling.” He confesses, they may have just been the two hardest words Apollo has ever proclaimed in his lifetime. His whole life he has lived, pushing away his emotions, trapping them in Pandora’s Box, as if were to be so vicious plague to horrify the earth. He never said anything when the Agency cut him down to the bone, he never said anything when Hades had betrayed him, he never said anything when she left. Anticipating his next response, she fears moving. It’s always been hard to elicit a response from Mingi, so staying still, giving him time and space is perhaps the best she can do in this reconciliation. “I’m struggling without you. I cannot breathe, I cannot sit or stand. Or breathe, or eat and drink.” He makes his way towards her, again, craving her touch like it’s oxygen, Mrs Song lets him because the truth is she’s been suffering without him, too.

"Just please come home and shout at me, scream at me, tell me how much you hate me. I let you back, just come home.” He begs. Mingi sinks to his knees before her, siren eyes welling up with tears, lips pouting as he almost screams in agitation. He was just supposed to be here for the mission, now here is wrought in a state of vulnerability— betraying his morals and beseeching for his wife.

How can you say that after much you've hurt me?

Her palm connects with his cheek, a jolt of pain rushes through him, sending a wave of electricity through his supple skin. “I hate you!” She howls through tears, the anguish in her voice terrorises him. Her fists grab his collar, sending an outbreak of beats that hurt even more than the last. The sight of his cheeks rushing red makes her cry more. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” A sudden pause, and she sinks to her knees to meet his eyes; before another relentless influx of torture permeates her body, instigating her wails to plague the earth.

Falling to her knees, her head sinks into his chest in a frenzy of emotions, his palm presses against her back to steady her. Her body wracks with a profound anguish as he encases her frame within his hold. “Come back to me, please.” He rocks her back and forth, her cries cease under his benefaction.

“But—,”

“If there is a world in which I can hold you, love you and be with you eternally, then I want it to be this one.” He proclaims.

“And your morals you have sworn allegiance to?” She questions, his fingers move along the surface of her supple skin, wiping down the tears staining the front of it.

“Oh my Aphrodite, I have sworn my allegiance to you.” Scoffing, Morana buries her face into his chest, concealing her cries by baring her teeth. But Mingi has always made it so easy for her to be vulnerable around him. “Let me forget my morals tonight, let me take you home with me Mrs Song.”

“Tonight you forget your morals, tomorrow will they be there again?”

“Perhaps, but the heartache I feel in your absence is much worse.” There is no dilapidation of his essence as the words release from him, a catharsis is purged from the pits of her arrogant soul. May it be that they’re the light and the dark, or that their loyalty will soon again divide them. But Mingi knows this much is true: he will find his way to her. Shifting his gaze to her, he finds himself lost in the depth of her eyes.

“Your next mission, should you choose to accept it,” She begins, her voice a soft yet commanding whisper, “is to be my husband for all eternity. To never leave my side, to never lie to me, to love me until your heart stops beating. Tell me, Agent Apollo, do you accept?”

•••

All Rights Reserved © the-midnight-blooms

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

‘mieun’ meaning beautiful grace.

A/N: FINALLY! WAR IS OVER! I love spy x family so much, I remember watching s1 and thinking, which ateez member gives loid forger vibes, and my brain went: mingi. I don’t know if it’s because of the dilfism, but Mingi felt so perfect to me? as always, BIG THANK YOU, to @poartz-writes because she’s always my go-to when i need a cure for writer’s block.

Question: Any guesses on who ‘The Black Fox’ is? 👀👀

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

tag list: @n0v4t33z @potatos-on-clouds @jjongwho @devilzliaison

[mehwmidklpe]

Hey if you mind can you do a part two of 'a demi-what now?!' post of percy jackson x reader where reader is now targeted by monsters without percy knowing when he is away then one day he does find out but that only when reader ends up in the hospital with near death wounds

A DEMI-WHAT NOW?? PART 2

Percy Jackson x Mortal!Gf

A DEMI-WHAT NOW?? PART 1

Percy had been happier lately.

No monster.

No wars.

No secrets.

You, his amazing girlfriend knew about his godly side. And of course you were freaked out at first. Of coursre you couldn't possibly believe him.

But eventually you were there for him trough every up and down.

And he was greatful for that, cause there was no one who understood him like you did.

You weren't even a demigod and you still understood him better than all the campers!

Anyways, right now, Percy was sitting at camp with the seven– well actually the six, cause Jason is dead! –

(oh and let's not forget Percy's best friend Grover who was also with them right now)

but his mind was only on you.

That's unil he felt someone nudge his arm. "Hey, what got you so happy lately Seaweedbrain?" Leo Valdez grinned. "Nothing, just glad there are no monster and wars at the moment." Percy excused himself. "Okay, okay." But the grin never left the latino's lips.

Percy thought he had fooled everyone, but the look Piper gave him made him feel exposed. It was as if she could sense Percy's love for you.

Luckily Piper's intimitating look got snapped away from Percy once they heard a loud voice.

Only Leo's face lit up as he recognized the voice and turned around on his chair. "Connor!" He smiled at the sight of his good friend running. "He's probably running away from some kids after pranking them, nothing important." Annabeth assured the rest.

But that wasn't the case.

"I don't know.. It seems pretty serious." Grover said with a concered frown on his forehead. "Yeah, I agree." Frank states, trying to get a better look at the running boy.

"Yo! Someone get Chiron!" Connor exclaimed, running towards the group.

Being the son of Hermes, he was fast. And judging on the look on his face, he had a message to deliver.

Like father like son.

His (half)brother, Chris Rodriguez, who was origanally planning on going to see Clarisse train in the arena, quickly made his way towards the big house.

Leo jumped up from his chair, followed by Hazel. The rest followed. "Come on kelp head." Annabeth encouraged him.

By the time Percy got there, Chiron was already approaching with Chris on his back. "My child. Tell me what happened." He said to Connor.

"Alecto is at Halfblood Hill. She said she wouldn't do any harm in exchange for a converastion with Perseus Jackson." Connor informed them.

"Oh come on! Why is it always me? Screw main character aura." Percy cursed out.

As he arrived at the hill with his friends and mentor, Allecto was already waiting for him. "Ah.. Perseus Jackson. Long time no see." "Yeah, and I was happy with that long time." Percy said, a bit annoyed at her appearence.

Alecto only chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt anyone. I just thought you would like to know that Hades is savouring a nice spot in the underworld, so you don't have to worry."

The sea-color eyed boy had to frown. "What's that supposed to mean?" "Just that you might want to visit the hospital before your little girlfriend joins your friends in elysium."

Percy completely froze at the mention of you.

"Wha-what did you just say?" He question in shock. "Girlfriend?" He heard one of his friends ask, but he was to caught up in his thoughts to even register who's voice it was.

Percy was scared, anxious, concerned, but most of all, furious

Grover felt all of it.

The group felt the ground beneat them shaking. Poseidon was the earthshaker after all, so why couldn't his son do it too?

"Percy.." Hazel warned him, but he didn't care. It only became worse, Frank's gaze landed on the small lake nearby. "Percy." He repeated once the water started rising.

Piper saw the expression Percy wore, and it scared her a bit. "Perseus, think about what you're doing." Chrion warned him.

Allectro wore a smirk on her gross lips. "Whatever you're planning on doing, it isn't gonna bring your girlfriend back."

"NO!"

With that, Percy launched a gian wave of water at the furie, some of his friends falling down.

"PERCY!"

But he wasn't done. "What is he doing?" Chris wondered as he saw the hateful look on Percy's face and the motions he made with his hands. "B-bloodbending." The daughter of Athena responded.

When Chiron heard that, he couldn't believe it.

"That's enough!" He stopped the boy. Alecto took that as her chance to fly away.

"Perseus Jackson, what were you thinking?"

Percy's eyes flickered around, as if trying to process everything. "I need to go. Now." He responded, ignoring the centaur's question. "What?" "To the hospital. She's dying!" He panicked.

"You're girlfriend.. she's mortal, isn't she?" Annabeth realized.

Percy's silence spoke sentences. "And you told her about us?" Chiron asked in disbelief.

"I didn't have a choice! We were getting attacked, and she saved me, and how else do you explain a monster barging into your room?" The son of Poseidon defended himself.

"Percy–" "Please. I need to see her." He begged. The mentor shook his head. "There's no way you'll get there in time."

"I can take him."

The whole group turned around, their gazes landing on Connor Stoll.

"My dad is the god of travelers and time. I can get Percy to the hospital before he can even blink." He explained.

Percy's head shot up, rushing over to the boy's side. "Yes! Yes Connor please do! You'd do that?" "Of course. We're buddies, aren't we?"

Connor nudged him, and Percy had never been happier to be friends with a Stoll than he was now.

Chiron sighed deeply. "I really don't think it's a good idea to–" Percy cut Chiron off.

"Now."

Apperently, Connor liked listening to his friend way more than listening to Chiron, cause before evryone could blink– like he had said –the two boy's were gone.

"I'm sorry, but you're not allowed to visit her without a legal adult. Considering you only turn 18 after a few weeks, you can't go inside." The woman behind the counter aplogized.

Percy couldn't believe it. "No, no, she's my girlfriend, I need to see her." The woman shook her head. "I'm very sorry but–"

"I'm an adult."

Percy turned to lok at Connor. "Here, check it out, I turned 18 recently." He said, handing the woman his ID.

The son of Poseidon had to frown.

Connor was so silly that it never occured Perc that he was a few months older than himself.

The woman smiled in satisfiction, handing it back. "Very well then. You can go to room 8 at floor 4." She instructed.

Connor grinned. "Come on." Percy quickly followed.

In the elevator, Connor noticed how worried Percy was. "Hey, don't worry, your girl will be okay."

Percy nodded quickly before pulling his friend into a hug. "Thank you so much. For bringing me here and.. suprisingly being a few months older than me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

As he pulled away, Connor patted his shoulder. "No worries. You saved camp, this is the least I can do."

Eventually, when the elevator opened, the boys rushed towards room 8.

Only Percy froze, scared to open the door, scared of what he might see. "Hey.. You'll be fine." Connor assured him, tone soft.

One thing he knew about Connor– expect for that he's very silly, causes lots of trouble, cracks a lot of jokes and likes pulling pranks and stealinf –is that he was very understanding and actually really good at this stuff.

He figured that when he felt bad for Silena when he found out Beckendorf had die–

Percy sighed and opened the door.

He saw you on the bed. You were awake, but not in a good state at all. He could clearly see your beautiful face. And his heart broke when he saw your condintion.

Percy stood completly frozen in the doorway, not daring to move forward.

Connor, on the other hand, pushed Percy aside and rushed over to you.

What the Hermes?

"Y/n??"

"Connor..."

Percy couldn't believe what he was seeing. Connor was knelt next to the bed, his hands cupping your face, inspecting if you were okay. "Wh-How-Why?"

That's when Percy spoke up. "You two know each other?" Connor didn't even look at him. "Yeah, she helped me escape when I got chased for stealing. We kept in touch after, became best friends." He explained to your boyfriend.

"You're the best friend??"

"You're the boyfriend?"

"You're a demigod...?"

Your weak voice got both boy's their attention.

Connor gulped. "Yeah. Son of Hermes." A weak smile grew on your lips. "Makes so much sense." You breath out.

Percy quickly got to your side. "Y/n.. how.. I-" "Some monsters attacked." You tried to get out. "What do you mean? They just randomly decided to attack you?" The boy asked, panick all over his face.

"They know I'm your girlfriend.. they've been coming at me for a while now, trying to get to you trough me." You explained, eyes only half open.

Your boyfriend's breath hitched. "Why-why didn't you tell me?" You tried to catch your breath. "Didn't want you.. worried.. finally had rest." "I don't care if I finally had rest. You're hurt Y/n!" He said, voice full of pain.

A knock was heard from the door and a nurse walked in. "Can I talk to an adult, please?" She asked at which Connor stood up and walked over to the older woman, closing the door behind him, but not without one last look at you.

"Connor's an adult?" You questioned. Percy nodded. "I know, suprising. He turned 18 recently. But that's not the point, I don't want you hurt anymore."

"I don't care about being hurt as long as you're safe." You protested, reaching out to take his hand in yours.

"Same goes for me. I can't watch you lying in a hospital all the time. You shouldn't be involved in this, you're not a demigod, you didn't figth in the wars, you didn't do anything wrong."

"And you did?"

"I'm the son of Poseidon."

"That doesn't mean you have to risk your life to save everyone." You snap at him.

"You lost so much. You gave so much. You're risking so much... You're mother sits at home, worrying sick about you, wondering if you're still alive or not. And so do I. I can't help but think about what might happen to you if I just look away for once.. I know I don't understand, I know I'm not a demigod. But I love you, and I can't just go around, giving you more trouble than you already have. So yes, I didn't tell you."

Percy gulped, trying to blink away tears that threatned to fall. "You're so dam stubborn." "So are you." You state. "But you're just so amazing." He finished, his lips finally finding yours.

You were to weak to even let your hand rest on his cheek, but he made sure to be gentle with you.

Only the moment was ruined when Connor walked in on it. Percy pulled away, clearing his troath. "Oh uhm.. Sory.." But his brows furrowed when he saw that Connor's eyes were red, as if trying to fight the urge to cry.

"Connor?"

Connor couldn't fight the urge to 'deliver his message'. No matter how heartbreaking it might be.

"The nurse said she might not make it."

That was the moment Percy's world fell appart. Not when he fought in his first war, not when he got stuck in Tartarus, no, when he found out you could die.

"No. No, no, no. She's fine, you looks fine. See, she just spoke full sentences and-" "I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true." Connor states, pain in his tone.

"But..no.. Y/n." He turned to look at you, and he noticed to tired expression on your face. "You can't leave me. You can't die on me." Percy was basically begging at this point.

"I told you I'd do that for you." You remind him. "I thought it was metaphorically." He protests. "Was it metaphorically when you said it?"

He stayed silent before turning to look at Connor again. "Teleport to camp. You can get some nectar or embrosia. She'll be fine before we know it."

Connor sniffed. "She's human. She wouldn't be able to take it."

"Percy.." Your fingers intertwined with his. "I'm so sorry to do this to you again." "No. Y/n. You don't have any reason to apoligize. And she said you might not make it. It's not a 100% sure." He tried but you shook your head.

"I actually feel like I'm dying Percy.."

A sob could be heard from the other side of the room. "Sorry." Connor apoligized. "I just.. don't leave.. please." He begged you.

Percy wondered how long you and Connor had known each other for him to get this emotional over you.

"4 years ago. Winter break when you were on that quest to find Artemis." You informed as if you could read his mind.

That long??

That was before you even started dating.

Percy gulped. "But- he never mentioned you." "I did. I think you might have been to caught up with other things.. that's okay.." The curly haired boy said, standing by your side.

A soft sigh left your lips. "You okay?" Both demigods instantly asked you. "I just wanna sleep.." You say as if that was supposed to reassure them.

"What if you don't wake up?" Connor asked you, scared of the thought. "Well.. Than steal a nice boquette of flowers for my grave. Oh and Percy, I liked that moonlace you got from... 'Calypso'."

They both had to gulp at the thought. "I'll boy you flowers when you wake up. I'll take you on a proper date. No monster, no quests. That's a promise." Percy states at which you had to smile.

"You're making the urge to never close my eyes again so irresistable." You smiled. "Good." He decided. "BUt I need to close them.. just for a bit.." You breath out, eyes already beginning o flutter shut.

"Wake up for me?" You squeezed his hand. "I'll try."

The son of Hermes looked at you with big eyes before looking back at Percy, and Percy knew what he wanted, so he gave him a nod in approval.

Connor placed a soft, platonic kiss on your forehead, earning a smile of yours. Percy then placed one onto your soft lips. "I love you." He wishpered. "Love you more.." And with that, your eyes closed.

For the gods know how long.

Idk what this is, I don't like it tho

[flamingoofeathers]

𝗔 𝗣𝗜𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗘’𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗧 || 𝗝. 𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗞

pairings: james hook x mermaid!reader

part 2 -> VK GONE SOFT || J.HOOK

summary: the times that hook came to see you and the time he didn’t. A forbidden love between a royal and a rebel, a pirate and a mermaid.

one shot; wc: 1.8k

genre: angst, fluff

main masterlist j.hook masterlist

a/n: you can imagine the reader as young Ariel or the daughter of Ariel, it doesnt really change much.

James tried to be as subtle as he can, cautiously looking around incase any one of the vk's were to see him, he wouldn't want to imagine what would happen. Dont get him wrong, he doesn't care about what anyone thinks, but this is his friends, the VK'S, dangerous people, that would hurt anyone who gets in their way.

Finally reaching the woods far behind Merlin Academy, he walked calmly through the forest, whistling as he neared the enchanted lake. No one comes to the lake during the week, since it's quite far from campus, but it would be filled with student wanting to take a swim during the weekends.

His chest filled with glee when he heard the splashing of water, grinning to himself, as he rushed to get to the lake faster.

When he arrived, the view he saw made all his problems go away, there she was, in all her glory, swimming around, humming a song.

The girl didn’t noticed him arrive, too busy in her own world to hear the sound of his chained boots.

He walked closer to the water, leaning into it "Hello there, my Princess" he said in a low voice, reaching his right hand towards the startled girl "James! You came!" The girl cheerfully said before swimming towards her beloved pirate.

Now face to face, Hook carefully touched her chin before leaning in, giving her a tender kiss.

Pulling away, hook asked "i hope you havent been waiting long for me" as he stood up, carefully taking off his clothes, leaving only his boxer before diving into the water.

"I haven’t, dont worry, at least you're here now" y/n replied as she hugged her lover.

"Good. Bridget pissed Uliana off again and it took a lot longer than expected to calm her down" Hook said hugging her back, thinking about Uliana was starting to stress him out again and his girlfriend noticed it.

"Well, dont think about her now, think about me instead" she said flirtingly, causing the boy to chuckle before kissing her again.

Y/n didnt like Uliana at all, while she wasn't a target of her bullying, she felt really bad for poor Bridget, who just wanted to be friends with her, but instead get made fun of. Other than that, she didnt like the fact that she always stresses her boyfriend out.

The sun was already setting when the couple got out of water and put their clothes back on.

They layed on the ground cuddled up, y/n leaning on James chest as they watched the sunset.

"You think we'll be able to date freely, one day James?"

"One day, we will."

The next time Hook was about to sneak away to meet his lovely mermaid, he got stopped by Maleficent.

"Mali- hi! Why arent you with Hades?" Hook chuckled nervously.

"Drop the act, Hook." Maleficent sneered.

"Wat are you talking about?" Hook was getting more nervous by the second.

"I know you're off to meet that little mermaid of yours, you're not slick" she scoffed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about"

"Im not dumb, i see you staring at her every time she's around." she scoffed.

"I-"

"-and i'm not the only one who noticed, Uliana is getting more suspicious every day, i suggest you stop seeing her, James, just for a little while." Maleficent said, her voice getting softer the more she observes her friend.

If Hook was nervous then, he was panicking now.

"What? No- i cant possibly-" Hook stumbled upon his words.

"James, i have no problem with you seeing her, if you're happy with her then I'm happy for you, but you know how Uliana is, she finds out and she'll make her life a living hell before she makes yours one too. It's just until Uliana stops suspecting" Maleficent pats his back before leaving him alone.

Hooks stands at the exit of the Academy as he stared in the air, conflicted.

Y/n was getting worried, its been hours since she and Hook was supposed to meet, she's been out of the water since well before, just sitting down, staring into the forest, wondering if maybe Hook was just a late, bc of Uliana again, but as the sky got darker, there was still no sign of him.

Disappointed, she started her way back to the Academy.

The next day, during her free period, she roamed the halls of the school, in search of James, knowing he skips almost all of his classes. They barely ever meet within school grounds, too scared to be seen by others.

She stops as she notice a hooked figure sat against one of the trees in the courtyard, happy, y/n walked closer as she yelled "james! Where were you-" she stopped herself when her dear boyfriend, saw her and instead of greeting her, he rushed away from her.

Weeks goes by and everyday, y/n slowly lost hope for them. Everytime she tried to talk to him and waited for him, her heart broke a little bit more.

As Bridget sang around the courtyard, giving out cupcakes along with the two new kids, Chloe and Red, she sat on a bench melancholically.

"What?" The girl watched with a broken heart as James disappear from her view.

As the VK's made their entrance, y/n stared at her boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now, she assumes, with longing eyes.

On the other hand, Hook was trying not to look at her, afraid he might break and rush to her.

As Uliana chased Bridget and Ella out the courtyard with everyone else following, he hesitated, finally staring at his beloved mermaid, making eye contact with her after so long.

He watched as y/n stood up and started approaching him.

They stood face to face with each other, not saying anything.

"I- i'm so sor-" Hook raised his hands to cup her face when a familiar loud grunt was heard.

"you need to go, please." Hook managed to push her away before Uliana and the vk's saw her.

"SHE'LL PAY FOR THIS" was the last thing y/n heard before she left.

The night of Castlecoming arrived and y/n didnt even want to go, but the dress she bought for this night was too expensive for her to not come. It was a dark red color to match Hook's suit for the night, it was supposed to be a surprise for him, her wearing his favorite color, but right now she regretted it.

She walked past happy students chatting about how excited they were, she wanted to roll her eyes at them, but she knew she was just bitter so she just sighed.

She didnt know what to do, she just stood there in the middle of the crowd not engaging with anyone, until Bridget came with Ella and greeted her.

"Y/N! Did you go with somrone?" Bridget said very happily, and hugged her, as if they were close, but she knew that was just how Bridget is.

"Oh! Hi, Bridget! Hi, Ella! And uh, no, no one asked me to be their date so im free for the night" y/n said, trying to hide the disappointment, but failed as Bridget noticed her expression.

"Oh...it's alright y/n, no one asked me too, i came here with Ella, you should hang with us" Bridget offered as Ella nodded her head.

"Oh no no, i wouldn't want to impose"

"You won't be, you'd make this night more bearable for me, trust me" Ella said jokingly making the other two laugh.

"Ask her to dance later" Maleficent whispered to him.

The three chatted for the whole night, y/n had fun just chatting with them, not even noticing a certain hooked man entering and staring at her from across the dance floor.

"What?" Hook asked confused.

"Ask her to dance later, dont worry about it" Maleficent smiled.

"What about-" Hook started.

"We'll take care of Uliana" she winked.

"We?"

"Yeah, 𝘸𝘦" Maleficent nodded her head towards Hades and Morgie, who nodded back at him with knowing smirks.

Hooks smiled back at them "Thanks, Mali"

As the night comes to its end, a final dance is presented to the students.

Hook went back to staring at the mermaid girl, with a new found feeling.

The dancefloor got cleared, only Charming, the crowned prince, remained as a slow song starts playing.

𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦

Everyone waited expectantly for him to approach someone.

Charming approached the three girls. Bridget and Y/n pushing Ella towards the prince.

𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦

𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘮𝘮

"Ella, may i have this dance"

𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸

Y/n looked at the newly formed couple in the middle of the dance floor with so much happines yet envy. As she stared at them, she noticed a pair of eyes staring at her from across the dance floor.

"Yes" Ella said as charming lead her in the middle of the dance floor.

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦

It was as if the world stopped and it was just the two of them

All Hook could think was how beautiful she was, in that dress, in his favorite color.

Maleficent noticed his stare "go" she whispered.

Hook looked at her and she smiled at him, before turning back to the others.

"This is so boring, Uli, lets just go before i die of boredom" Maleficent groaned.

"Exactly, i wanna rip my ears out, this song is awful" Hades complained as he wraps his arms around Maleficent

"Yeah, Uli, i thought this was gonna be fun but it's just torture" Morgie whined.

"You're right." Uliana rolled her eyes before she turned away and went for the exit not caring who follows her.

"Go get her" Hades patted his back before leaving with the others.

No one else went to the dance floor, all endeared by the unexpected pair, thats why everyone gasped when the one and only James Hook, invaded the dance floor but his eyes was only set on one person, his beloved.

Y/n stared as Hook approached her.

The two stared at each other.

𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺

"May i have this dance, my love?" Hook asked in a soft voice.

Y/n just stared at him with an open mouth, before Bridget nudge her.

"Yes." She let out a breathe.

Hook beamed as he kissed her hand before leading her to the dance floor.

The two stared at each other with so much love and longing.

𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘭𝘦

"I love you, y/n l/n" Hook whispered.

"I love you too, James Hook" y/n said back with no hesitation, before they share their first kiss in front of everyone.

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧

They didn't care when everyone gasped at the even more unexpected pair, all they cared was they were finally in each others arms again.

There's still so much they need to talk about, but that can wait for tomorrow, tonight is for them.

"So...this is love"

James said as he stared at her.

[scarluna]

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 2 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

ACT II.

The office was a battlefield, and I was the only one unarmed.

Every day felt like a fresh assault. Tina’s barbs were sharper, her voice dripping with fake sympathy as she leaned over my desk. “Oh, Y/N, are you sure you’re comfortable in that chair? It looks like it’s a little… snug.”

I tried to ignore her, my cheeks burning as I focused on the mock-up on my screen. She’d been relentless all week, and every comment felt like a jab to my already low self-esteem. I was keeping quiet, minding my own business but the bullying never seemed to stop. I wanted to be the bigger person, the mature person who doesn't take things to heart. And it seemed like it from outside, but from the inside I was suffering. 

Across the room, Yoongi wasn’t much better. His criticisms were less direct, but no less cutting. He had a way of making me feel incompetent without ever raising his voice. “Y/N, these designs lack creativity,” he’d say, his tone calm but loaded with judgment. “Maybe it’s time you considered a role that’s more… fitting for your skill set. Like data entry.”

I bit my lip, swallowing the lump in my throat. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here, not in front of them.

Jungkook, however, was the worst of all. Every glance he threw my way felt like a judgment, every word like a blow.

“You’re moving too slow,” he snapped one afternoon, slamming a stack of papers onto my desk, leaning over to my face whilst his dark eyes burned into my soul. “Do you even understand deadlines? Or is thinking that fast too much for you?”

The team laughed quietly, but the sound roared in my ears. I felt my hands tremble. I wanted to open my mouth, I wanted to shout and say that I quit this god forsaken place, but I couldn't. Call me weak, call me pushover or whatever, but this job was important to me and I wanted to keep proving my worth.

By the end of the day, I was drained of course. My confidence was in shreds, my energy spent. But the worst moments came when I was alone at home, sitting in my small one-bedroom flat with my dog curled up at my feet and tears streaming down my face.

-

That evening, I sat at the kitchen table, staring at a cold cup of tea in my hands. Hades, my dog, whimpered, sensing my distress, and I reached down to stroke his soft fur.

“I’m fine,” I whispered in a shaky voice, wiping my tears away. It has been like this for weeks. I was at work, bullied, mocked at, then came home and cried my eyes out the entire evening. And then when I opened my eyes in the next morning, the cycle repeated itself.

I thought of my parents, so far away and unaware of the chaos in my life. I couldn’t burden them with this. I thought of my brother in prison, the shame my family carried, and the weight of holding everything together by myself.

And yet, I knew I couldn’t give up. If I lost this job, I’d lose everything. My apartment, my independence, my sense of self. I had to keep going, no matter how much it hurt.

-

The next morning, I dragged myself into the office, my body heavy with exhaustion and my eyes burning from all the crying and lack of sleep. 

The morning passed in a blur of emails, revisions, and pointed comments from Yoongi and Tina which I ignored, I was too lost in thoughts to even listen to them anymore. By lunchtime, my head was pounding, but I pushed through, forcing myself to finish the latest round of edits.

“You look terrible,” Tina said as she passed my desk, her voice dripping with mocking concern. “Maybe you should take a break. But then again, even when you take a break you'd do a shitty job afterward yet again.”

I ignored her, focusing on the screen in front of me. My surroundings were like a blurr. Somewhat, I lost sense of my emotions the moment I focused on my design as this was the only thing helping me out in this moment. 

By the end of the day, my vision was blurring. My body felt like it was on autopilot, moving through tasks without really comprehending what I was doing. Of course I did fuck up a few times, stumbling in my tasks and that did not go unnoticed by my boss.

“Y/N, are you listening?” Jungkook’s voice snapped me out of my daze.

I blinked, realizing I had been staring at my screen without hearing a word of the conversation happening around me.

“Yeah. . . I am listening," I lied lowly, refusing to meet his eyes.

I could practically hear him scoff and probably roll his eyes. “You’re useless. Why are you even here?”

The words hit me like a slap, but I couldn’t muster the strength to respond.

-

It happened that evening at the end of my workday, just as I was finishing the last of my assignments. I stood up from my desk, the world tilting around me and my legs went weak. My vision blurred, and before I could catch myself, everything went black.

-

When I came to my senses, I was lying on the floor, a small crowd gathered around me. Rya’s worried face was the first thing I saw, her hands gently patting my cheeks.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with panic. "Should we call an ambulance?"

I groaned, my body aching as I tried to sit up. “N-no, i-it's fine. What happened?” I was pulled up gently by Rya as the other colleagues slowly walked away because they saw Rya's murderous glance. This girl was doing everything to protect me and she had no clue how grateful and appreciative I was to her for that.

“You fainted,” Rya said, helping me up. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.” I was also not eating at all, because their jokes about how I looked finally had gotten to me. 

Hoseok appeared, holding a bottle of water. “You need to take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said gently. “This job isn’t worth destroying your health over.”

I felt tears prick at my eyes, but I forced them back, nodding weakly. “I’m fine,” I said, though my voice shook. “I’ll be fine.” I saw Hoseok and Rya look at each other and then back at me. From the corner of my eye I saw Tina stand not too far away, arms crossed against her chest. She huffed and headed down the hallway. This was a lost cause, wasn't it? Working at such a big company, getting paid well, just to be treated like trash...

Deep down, I knew that me saying I was fine was far from the truth. Something had to change soon—because if it didn’t, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

-

I didn’t expect the knock on my door that Saturday morning. Weekends were my time to recharge, to hide from the world and the constant judgment I faced at work. I would spend the weekends curled in bed, eating my emotions away and watching crime documentaries while Hades was curled by my side. But when I opened the door and saw whoever was standing there, a small smile on his face and a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, my heart skipped a beat.

“Taehyung?” I blinked, caught off guard by the sight of my childhood best friend. It had been months since we’d last seen each other, though we’d kept in touch through our parents.

“Surprise,” he said warmly, holding out the flowers. “Thought I’d stop by and say hello. You’re not busy, are you?”

I shook my head, taking the flowers with a smile. “Not at all. Come in!”

He stepped inside, taking in the small space. Hades barked excitedly at the newcomer, running in circles around Taehyung’s legs.

“Hades,” I said with a laugh, scooping up my little dog. “Be nice. This is Taehyung.”

Taehyung grinned, scratching behind Hades’ ears. “You have a dog now? I should’ve brought treats.” "It's okay, he shouldn't eat much or else he'd become pudgy." "But pudgy is cute." he muttered and I giggled. His aura and presense somehow made me feel safe and at ease. I forgot how much of a kind hearted man Tae was. And here he was, dressed casually, hair a cute mess and a lazy smile gracing his features.

We spent a few minutes catching up before Taehyung suggested we take a walk. “It’s been ages since we’ve just hung out,” he said. “Let’s go to the park. Get some fresh air.”

The park was peaceful, the late morning sun casting a golden glow over the trees. We walked along the path, Hades trotting happily beside us on his leash. The park was not filled with many people this early in the morning and I was grateful for that. Somehow a lot of people made me anxious.

“So,” Taehyung said, breaking the comfortable silence, “how’s life in the big city? Still doing graphic design?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I felt. “It’s… a lot. But I’m managing.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Managing, huh? That doesn’t sound like the Y/N I know. You used to dream big. What happened to that spark of yours?”

I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Life happened, I guess.”

Taehyung frowned but didn’t press further. Instead, he changed the subject. “Have you heard from your parents recently? My mom mentioned they were planning to visit soon.”

I nodded. “We talk every week. They’re good, keeping busy.”

“And your brother?”

I hesitated, the mention of my brother a sensitive topic, of course. I didn't talk to anyone about him and my parents seemed to be good at avoiding the topic for my own brother as well. They acted as if he was a shame to our family. “He’s… okay. Still in prison, but we’re hopeful he’ll be out sooner than expected. He’s trying to stay positive.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you’ll let me know, right? My firm handles cases like his all the time.” Taehyung was a successful lawyer here, he even owned his own law firm and I was so happy for him. Ever since he was a child he was determined and a smooth talker, convincing people with ease. He was also smart and selfless which was one of the things I liked about him.

I smiled, touched by his offer. “Thanks, Tae. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As we continued walking, Taehyung talked about his work and how many weird cases he has been working on recently.

“I still can’t believe you run your own firm,” I said, shaking my head. “You make it sound so easy.”

He laughed. “It’s anything but easy, trust me. But I love what I do. And it doesn’t hurt that my parents are proud of me for once.”

“They’ve always been proud of you,” I said, nudging him playfully. “You’re their golden child.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone teasing. “But I’ve always cared more about what you thought of me.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his words. Before I could respond, Hades barked, pulling at the leash.

I glanced up to see what had caught his attention—and froze.

My boss was leaning against a dark Mercedez Benz and a cigarette dangled between his lips. He looked so casual. And also there was a man who had his back on me but it did not take me long to realize this was Yoongi.  I was staring for too long. Jungkook's gaze flickered on me and I saw a glint of surprise which made Yoongi turn around as well. My heart stopped.

For a moment, neither of us moved. It was as if the world had stopped, the air thick with tension.

“Y/N?” Taehyung’s voice broke the spell, and I tore my gaze away from Jungkook, my heart pounding.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “What were you saying?”

Taehyung followed my gaze, his brow furrowing as he took in both men's figures. “Is that Jeon Jungkook?” he asked surprised.

I shook my head, the knot in my stomach tightening. “Y-yeah. ” I mumbled and Tae hummed.  "So he is your boss?" I nodded. "Does he give you a hard time? I can give him a piece of my mind." I could hear the annoyance on Taehyung's voice as he spoke about Jungkook. I shook my head and my eyes shifted back on Tae.  "It's fine.Let's just go."

Taehyung didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, steering the conversation back to lighter topics as we slowly walked away.

But even as we continued walking, laughing and reminiscing, I couldn’t shake the image of Jungkook’s piercing gaze—or the way it had made me feel like he could see right through me.

-

Monday arrived far too quickly, and as I walked into the office, I could already feel the tension in the air. The weekend spent with Taehyung had been a rare reprieve, a reminder of the warmth of genuine friendship. But as soon as I entered the workspace, the cruel reality of my job hit me like a cold slap.

The whispers started almost immediately.

“Did you see her at the park?” Tina’s voice carried from the nearby break area, intentionally loud enough for me to hear.

“Oh, yeah,” Yoongi drawled, smirking as he leaned against the counter. “Who’d she pay to walk beside her like that?”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and I kept my eyes fixed on my desk, willing myself to ignore them.

“Maybe he’s her personal trainer,” Tina continued with a sneer. “Though, let’s be honest, she doesn’t seem like the type who actually listens to advice.”

I gripped the edge of my desk, my knuckles turning white as I fought to keep my composure.

Jungkook’s voice joined the fray, sharp and mocking. “He probably felt bad for her. Sympathy date, maybe.”

Laughter erupted around me, the sound cutting deeper than I cared to admit.

“Morning, Y/N!” Tina’s fake tone made my stomach churn as she approached my desk, her heels clicking against the floor. “Had a good weekend? You seemed… busy.”

I forced a smile, keeping my voice even. “It was fine, thanks.”

Her eyes sparkled with faux curiosity. “Oh, come on, you can tell us. Who was that guy? Friend? Cousin? You’re not seriously trying to say he’s your boyfriend, are you?”

The heat rose to my cheeks, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Just an old friend.”

Tina’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Oh, that makes sense. Because, you know, someone like him... with someone like you? Not exactly believable.”

The laughter started up again, and I clenched my fists under the desk, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping back. I shot her a glare however and she did see it. That errupted a chuckle from her and she walked away with graceful steps, shaking her hips because she knew Jungkook was there.  Pathetic bitch.

-

The hours dragged on, each task feeling heavier under the weight of the relentless mockery. By lunchtime, I felt like I was suffocating, the walls of the office closing in around me. I haven't felt like this since I was in damn high school.

“Y/N, you okay?” Rya’s voice was a lifeline, her genuine concern cutting through the fog of humiliation.

I glanced up to see her and Hoseok standing by my desk, their expressions sympathetic.

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s grab lunch,” Hoseok suggested. “Get out of here for a bit.”

I hesitated, but the idea of escaping the toxic atmosphere, even for a little while, was too tempting to pass up.

As we sat in a small café a few blocks away, I felt the tension slowly begin to ease. The warm, comforting smells of coffee and pastries wrapped around me like a blanket, and for the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe again.

“They’re absolute trash,” Rya said bluntly, stirring her latte. “Tina, Yoongi, Jungkook—all of them.”

Hoseok nodded, his eyes serious. “You’re better than all of them combined, Y/N.”

I shrugged, poking at my sandwich with a fork. “It’s just... exhausting. I try to ignore them, but it’s like they go out of their way to tear me down.”

“They’re jealous,” Rya said firmly. “That’s all it is. You have talent, Y/N. They see that, and it scares them.”

I gave her a doubtful look. “They don’t seem scared to me.”

“Well, screw them,” Hoseok said, his tone unusually sharp. “You’ve got people who believe in you, Y/N.” I wish I could believe his words, but deep down I didn't. I was too absorbed in my inner pain to even think someone was believing in me. I wasn't believing in myself in the first place.

-

As I stepped through the doors, Yoongi’s voice rang out, loud and mocking.

“Back from lunch with your friends?” he said, smirking as he leaned against his desk arms crossed against his chest.

The others laughed, their eyes gleaming with amusement as they watched me walk past.

I didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him. But inside, I was crumbling, each cruel word chipping away at the walls I’d built to protect myself.

How much longer could I keep this up? How much more could I take before I broke completely?The answer lingered in the back of my mind, terrifying and inevitable.

-

The rest of the day passed in a haze of barely contained emotions. I kept my head down, focusing on the screen in front of me, even as whispers and snickers floated through the air like poison. Even my team was just as disgusting except Hoseok and Rya. What was wrong with adults acting like children? 

By the time 4 PM rolled around, I was hanging on by a thread. But of course, Tina wasn’t about to let me leave without one final jab.

She sauntered over to my desk, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown to my inevitable implosion. Today she wore a bright blue pencil skirt, a white blouse that had too much buttons popped off. I could see her cleveage clearly. This was definitely not job appropriate but I knew who she was doing this for.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your designs. They’re… fine, I guess. For someone who clearly hasn’t seen the inside of a fashion magazine in, what, years?”

Her laugh was joined by Yoongi’s low chuckle from across the room, and my chest tightened.

“Not everyone can have an eye for detail like I do,” Tina continued, her voice rising so the whole office could hear. “But don’t worry. Maybe if you spent less time stuffing your face with food and more time paying attention to trends, you might actually produce something worth presenting to a client.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. My hands trembled, my nails digging into the edge of my desk.

“Enough,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the rage bubbling up from deep inside of me. It was getting hard to control myself at this point. All these weeks of bullying and me being silent had to come to an end.

“What was that?” Tina leaned closer, a smug smile tugging at her lips.

“I said enough!” I stood up so quickly my chair toppled over, the loud clatter startling everyone. Tina's expression changed, I could see her blue eyes grow wide as she took a slight step back and her hands fell down her sides.

Tina blinked, clearly not expecting a reaction from me. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” I said, my voice shaking but growing stronger with every word. “I’ve had it with your constant shitty bullying. Every day, you find some new way to tear me down, and for what? To make yourself feel better? To prove you’re better than me?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, please. Don’t be so dramatic.” she tried to look disinterested but I could see the surprise in her eyes from my outburst. Somehow I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore. The words kept spilling out.

“Dramatic?” I laughed bitterly. “You’ve been treating me like garbage since the day I got here. Mocking my work, my weight, the way I dress, the way I look. And for what? Because you’re insecure? Because you can’t stand the idea of someone else succeeding? Someone else that is plain looking? Or should I say, someone that is different looking?”

The color drained from her face, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“And let’s not even start on the way you constantly throw yourself at the boss, who mind you, is just as shitty as you are.” I added, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “The way you bat your lashes, lean into him, practically cling to his arm whenever he’s in the room... everyone sees it, Jungkook especially. And guess what, he is not interested. Pathetic, isn't it?” I took a step toward her. She was taller than me wearing those heels, but I didn't gave a fuck. I was full with rage.

Gasps rippled through the office, and Tina’s cheeks turned crimson. From the corner of my eyes I could see Yoongi lean back on his chair and stare at us in pure silence.

“You want to act like you’re above me, Tina? Fine. But don’t think for a second we don’t all see how desperate you are to get his attention—and how he couldn’t care less. And you trying to bring me down by being a shitty Direct Manager does nothing to make the boss notice you.”

Her jaw dropped, her confidence visibly crumbling. “You—”

“What?” I snapped, cutting her off. “You don’t like hearing the truth? He doesn’t want you. He never will. So maybe, instead of tearing other people down to make yourself feel important, you should take a good, long look in the mirror.”

The room was deathly quiet, every pair of eyes glued to the unfolding scene.

“I-I will have you fired for this!" she stuttered, her face red with embarrassment.

I stared at her, my chest heaving, and for the first time, I saw her for what she really was: small, scared, and desperately clinging to the illusion of power.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady. “Do it, maybe I will finally get the mental break I deserve.”

Without another word, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the office, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the silence.

I didn’t make it far before the tears started falling. I ducked into the stairwell, sinking onto the cold concrete steps as the weight of the confrontation hit me. My shoulders shook with sobs, the release of weeks—months—of pent-up frustration and pain. Fucking hell, was I going to get fired for this? Fuck fuck fuck.

The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Rya standing there, her expression a mix of concern and pride.

“That was epic,” she said, sitting down beside me.

I laughed weakly, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “It didn’t feel epic. It felt terrifying.”

“Well, it needed to be said,” she said firmly. “And you said it. You stood up for yourself, Y/N. That takes a lot of guts.”

I nodded, my tears slowing as her words sank in. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a spark of something I hadn’t felt in a long time: pride.

“Thanks, Rya,” I said softly.

She smiled, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime. And just so you know, you’re not alone in this. We’ve got your back. And don't worry about getting fired, Jungkook can't afford to look for another candidate right now besides, deep down he knows you are brilliant at what you do and that you are a hard worker.”

Her words were like a balm to my wounded spirit, and as I sat there with her, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I was stronger than I thought.

-

The office was buzzing with murmurs in the aftermath of my confrontation with Tina, but I tried to focus on my work. My chest was still tight, my emotions raw, but I felt an odd sense of relief. Standing up for myself had been terrifying, yet it also felt strangely empowering.

I barely had time to process the relief before a sharp voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Y/N,” Jungkook called from the doorway of his office, his tone clipped. “My office. Now.”

Every pair of eyes in the room shot to me, their gazes heavy with curiosity and judgment. My stomach sank, but I refused to let the anxiety show. With my head held high, I pushed back from my desk and walked toward him, determined not to let him intimidate me anymore.

The door clicked shut behind me, and the room suddenly felt much smaller. Jungkook stood by his desk, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed forearms, his dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. I saw him wearing a dark suit. However, his jacket was gone and he had his shirt on, black slacks and his tattoos complimented him perfectly. If he wasn't such an ass, I'd have been secretly attracted to him. 

“What’s this I hear about you causing a scene?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He was definitely annoyed with me.

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. “You mean standing up for myself? Sorry if that doesn’t fit your idea of acceptable behavior.”

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, the space between us shrinking. “This isn’t about acceptable behavior. It’s about keeping your head down and doing your job without making a spectacle of yourself.”

A laugh escaped me, bitter and unrestrained. “Oh, you mean like the way you and your little entourage make a spectacle out of humiliating me every chance you get?”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, the tension in the room shifted, charged with something electric and unspoken.

“Careful, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re treading on thin ice.”

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. And his cologne intoxicated me. “And you know what? I don’t care anymore. I’ve had enough of your condescending remarks, your bullying, and your constant need to remind me that I don’t fit into your little world.”

His gaze flicked to my lips, just for a second, but it was enough to make my heart race.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice rough."I have done no such thing. It was to push you so you can get better."

“Are you kidding me?!” I shot back, my voice trembling with anger. “I see the way you look at me, Jungkook. The way you go out of your way to make my life miserable. What is it? Does it make you feel powerful? Or are you just trying to cover up whatever it is you’re really feeling?”

His hand flexed at his side, and for a moment, I thought he might reach for me. But instead, he took a step back, his expression unreadable.

“You’re crossing a line,” he said, his voice tight.

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m finally drawing one.”

The room was silent except for the sound of my own breathing, ragged and uneven. I could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy and unrelenting, but I refused to back down.

“Is that all, Mr. Jeon?” I asked, my voice cold and formal.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Get out.”

I turned on my heel and walked out of the office, my heart pounding in my chest. As the door closed behind me, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of triumph and dread.

Whatever was brewing between Jungkook and me, it was far from over. And something told me it was only going to get more complicated.

I left Jungkook’s office with my heart pounding and my hands trembling. I didn’t know if I felt victorious or terrified, but I couldn’t afford to overanalyze it right now. I just needed to keep my head down and survive the rest of the day.

-

On my way back to my desk after my lunch break, I ducked into the break room to grab a glass of water. I needed at least a second to breathe before I faced the curious stares of my coworkers.

That’s when I heard voices drifting in from the slightly ajar door from one of the closest meeting rooms.

“Man, she really snapped at Tina...” Yoongi’s familiar voice was laced with amusement.

I froze.

“She didn’t just snap,” Yoongi continued with a low chuckle. “She obliterated her. And the best part? She called out Tina’s ridiculous crush on you. In front of everyone. Priceless.”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” Jungkook snapped, his tone sharp.

“Why? It’s true.” Yoongi’s voice grew more teasing. “I’ve never seen Tina look so humiliated. It was a masterpiece, honestly. Someone had to put her in her place eventually.”

“She was out of line,” Jungkook growled.

I inched closer to the door, my heart racing. Were they talking about me?

“Out of line?” Yoongi scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? Tina’s been terrorizing her for weeks. Y/N finally decided she wasn’t going to take it anymore. Honestly, I respect her for it.”

“It’s not her job to cause scenes in the office, besides, you have terrorizing her as well.” Jungkook shot back, his tone cold.

Yoongi laughed, the sound dry and mocking. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re mad about the professionalism or whatever excuse you’re clinging to. You’re mad because she stood up to you too. Admit it, Jeon—she caught you off guard. And you hate not being in control. And you also terrorized her. Is that apropriate for a CEO to do?”

There was a brief silence, and then Jungkook’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Careful, Yoongi.”

“Why?” Yoongi said, unfazed. “Let’s be real, Jungkook. You’ve been riding her harder than anyone else in this office. And for what? Because she’s not your type? Because she’s not like the other girls who throw themselves at you? Or because she is fat?” Fat. This word made my hands shake. I hated it so much. It was a reminder.

“That’s enough,” Jungkook growled, the edge in his voice enough to make me hold my breath.

“Or maybe,” Yoongi continued, clearly enjoying pushing Jungkook’s buttons, “it’s because she doesn’t give a damn about you? She doesn’t hang on your every word or bat her lashes at you like Tina. She’s not afraid to tell you off, and it’s driving you crazy. She is not attractive at all and you cannot comprehend how come someone who is not pretty not into you?”

“I said that’s enough!” Jungkook’s voice echoed through the room, loud and commanding.

The sudden outburst made me flinch, and I stepped back, my foot scuffing against the floor.

The noise was subtle, but in the silence that followed Jungkook’s shout, it was loud enough to draw attention.

“What was that?” Jungkook’s voice was sharp.

I turned and bolted before either of them could investigate, my heart racing as I slipped back into the main office.

My mind was spinning, replaying the conversation I’d just overheard. Yoongi’s words lingered in my mind, poking at emotions I wasn’t ready to confront.

Jungkook wasn’t mad about professionalism. He wasn’t mad about Tina. He was mad about me.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

-

A few hours after overhearing the heated conversation between Jungkook and Yoongi, my head was a whirlwind of emotions. I couldn't focus on my work at all. I needed air—fresh, cool air that wasn’t tainted by the stifling tension of the office.

The rooftop seemed like the perfect escape. I’d been there once before during lunch, and it was usually deserted.

Pushing open the heavy door, I stepped out into the open, letting the crisp breeze wash over me. The city stretched out in every direction, its sounds muted by the height.

But my solitude was short-lived.

A familiar figure leaned against the railing, a cigarette between his fingers. Yoongi.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, one brow quirking in surprise. “Didn’t think you’d be the rooftop type.”

I crossed my arms, irritation bubbling to the surface. “And I didn’t think you’d be the smoking type. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

He smirked, taking a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. “Touché. So, what brings you up here? Trying to escape the circus downstairs?”

I took a few steps closer, my frustration from earlier finding a new target. “If by circus you mean you and Jungkook, then yeah. Congratulations, you two are the ringleaders.”

Yoongi let out a low chuckle, the sound grating against my nerves. “Ah, so you heard us.”

“Hard not to when you’re practically shouting,” I snapped. “Though I’m sure you both figured no one would dare eavesdrop on the great CEO and his sidekick.”

He turned to face me fully, leaning back against the railing. His sharp features were illuminated by the city lights, giving him an almost ethereal, dangerous look. “Careful, Y/N. You’re sounding pretty bold for someone who usually keeps her head down.”

I took another step closer, my anger pushing me forward. “Bold? You think this is bold? No, Yoongi. Bold is bullying someone for no good reason. Bold is turning the office into a soap opera just because you can’t act like an adult.”

His smirk faltered, replaced by a flash of something darker. He took a step toward me, closing the distance between us.

“You don’t know me,” he said, his voice low and cutting.

“And I don’t care to,” I shot back, though my voice wavered slightly.

We were close now, too close. The air between us was charged, a volatile mix of anger and something unspoken. His gaze locked onto mine, unyielding and intense, and I refused to back down.

“Let me guess,” I continued, my voice shaking with both rage and nerves. “You’re just another overgrown man-child who thinks the world owes him something. Smoking on the rooftop, making snarky comments—what’s next? Brooding poetry about how misunderstood you are?”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning, though it carried a dangerous edge. “You’ve got a mouth on you, Y/N. Didn’t think you had it in you to snap twice in one day.”

“Yeah, well, you and your buddy Jungkook seem to bring out the worst in me,” I bit out.

Yoongi stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But don’t think for a second that you can figure me out with your little insults. You should look at yourself in the mirror.”

“Figure you out?” I laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to figure you out, Yoongi. Trust me, I know who I am, I look at myself in the mirror everyday. What about you? Do you know who you are?" there was a pause." Leave me the hell alone.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Then why are you still standing here?”

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. His words hung in the air, heavy and taunting. I hated the way he got under my skin, the way his presence seemed to pull at something deep and unwanted inside me.

“Because someone needs to tell you off as well,” I said finally, though my voice lacked the conviction it had moments ago.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re cute when you’re mad, Y/N. But if you think you can scare me off, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

I glared at him, refusing to let him see how his words affected me. “Enjoy your rooftop melodrama.”

I turned on my heel, marching back toward the door. But as I reached for the handle, his voice stopped me.

“Y/N.”

I glanced back, my hand hovering over the door.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his tone softer, almost contemplative.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I said nothing. Instead, I pushed open the door and walked back into the stairwell, his words following me like a shadow.

[xjulixred45x]

Hey am a big fan of your writing especially the record of ragnarok ones do you think you could do ror hades and maybe other characters with a singer reader who's like Betty boop ?

Sure!

Hades/Apollo/Ares x Betty Boop!Reader

Hades

• Hades and reader probably met, ironically, through Zeus. I honestly don't think Hades is a fan of extravagant entertainment, so reader's singing caught his attention the most.

• Reader was probably dancing and singing in her own world (not even paying attention to her surroundings) when she realized she had company.

• This ended up becoming a routine for both of them, although reader was originally a little intimidated by the idea that she had to perform for Hades, over time she became more confident, even feeling happy to have caught his attention (especially considering that she was basically ignored by the rest of the gods).

• If we're talking about a relationship, reader honestly has her life figured out.

• Reader probably still sings for others from time to time, but her favorite place to sing is when she and Hades are alone in the throne room (because of the echo), they even dance a little waltz together.

• I like to think of this reader as a nymph (due to several things they has in common with Betty), so she doesn't have a sense of modesty beyond the basics of not walking around naked, which makes her an easy target for pervert people. But there's nothing to worry about! Hades is more than happy to scare away anyone who has intentions of going too far with reader.

• Hades can't really get mad at reader for that, though, he finds it adorable for how innocent she is, and that very innocence can sometimes get her into trouble, but gods, how he loves her.

• (additional note, HADES, KEEP ZEUS AWAY FROM READER)

• Sometimes reader enjoys singing alone, but the echo in the palace is brutal (that, and gods have enhanced senses), so it's easy for Hades to just go by the tunes and find reader. He likes to just look at her when he thinks no one else is. There's also a good chance he'll applaud her when she's done just to see her blush. How cute.

• Everyone in Hades' palace is now used to hearing singing coming from all directions, from his room, the throne room, the hallways, etc. It's not uncommon for the servants to be humming along afterwards.

• Hades is the type of partner who likes to embarrass reader a little, just because of how adorable she looks when she asks him for certain things (to speak louder, to repeat things), and he finds it funny if she responds violently (feather swipes for him), which will probably end in a bear hug from him. WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO BE SO CUTE?!

• Hades definitely likes to daydream about what it would be like if reader, instead of singing to other people or to him, sang to their future children. It's something that's becoming more recurrent than he'd like to admit.

• Luckily, they have all the time in the world to enjoy a few more tunes on their own before expanding the family, so enjoy it.

Apollo

• Apollo definitely met Reader at one of his temples! He is the god of music and the arts after all.

• There were probably a few times when Apollo went to this particular temple and would see that there were worshipers who just didn't show up, which was... fine. Until more of them started to not show up.

• And a rumor reached Apollo's ears (not at all because he was listening to someone else's conversation) that this was because of one of the priestesses, who had an inherently heavenly voice. Scuff, yes, of course.

• I'll be honest, at first Apollo probably thought about going to cast a plague on Reader if it weren't for the fact that he found her physically beautiful.

• Not only that, but when he heard her sing, it was definitely understood because mortals considered her a divinity, her voice was beautiful.

• And obviously, if there's something Apollo can't have for himself, he'll take it.

• Probably the one who took the longest to conquer reader because of his egocentric personality. The poor reader ran away from him faster than Daphne.

• But as the saying goes, he who perseveres triumphs. And somehow the angel who is a reader ended up agreeing to be with him. Much to everyone's surprise (and disappointment).

• Honestly, at first the relationship feels merely superficial, precisely because Apollo sees reader as some kind of trophy (AT BEGINNING). So they didn't interact much, or when they did it was Lovebombing.

• However, after a few weeks of interacting with reader, Apollo ends up surprising herself thinking about her when she sees something she KNOWS she would like, or when she ends up humming some melody composed by reader, among other things.

• She basically realizes "oh, I screwed up with this person" and sets out to fix it (in the only way he knows how).

• Apollo shows affection mainly through material things, that's kind of obvious. However, with this specific type of reader who is an artist like him, I think his gifts would be more based on poems, songs, art supplies, etc.

• It's his way of giving reader something she likes AND so he has an excuse to spend time with her.

• When Apollo is stressed about something (be it something like he stained his clothes, someone made him angry, etc) he demands reader sing to calm him down, preferably while he's lying on her lap. It works 9/10 times.

• Apollo is a HUGE fan of reader wearing sexier clothes, though he's definitely also in favor of blinding anyone who stares at her, which ends up with reader being both feared and respected by Apollo's entire fan base.

• Apollo likes to do reader's makeup, whether it's for a normal day or an important meeting, even before their fight, it's a kind of ritual he never misses. Sometimes he tries a more subtle makeup, other times he uses colors that represent him, others more exaggerated, but he always does it (CHANGE MY MIND, and he starts pouting if the reader does it without him)

• Two very different types of artists.

Ares

• My god, this Ares is a cinnamon bun. How is there so little footage of him?

• Where was i.

• I can see Ares meeting reader at some party with his father.

• While he was giving his opinion on some general aspects of the party to his father (who wasn't even paying attention to him--) that's when he SAW HER.

• Dancing carefree, singing with a melodious voice, in a (rather) short dress, there was the most beautiful woman Ares had ever seen (it was love at first sight).

• And Zeus, being the piece of shit that he is, upon realizing that Ares was staring at a pretty young girl, had no better idea than to try to talk to her-

• Fortunately for everyone, reader was terrified when this cheeky old man approached her, and in an attempt to escape from him, she hid behind Ares so that he would keep her away.

• At that moment, Ares got to know a little part of life, called happiness.

• Ares is much more shy than he would like with reader, precisely because he never really learned how to do things related to a serious relationship (not from his father at least) but he does the best he can!

• He can't help but turn red whenever reader gets too close to him, especially when she's wearing very low-cut dresses. He's a gentleman and tries to look away RESPECTFULLY, but reader genuinely doesn't understand what's wrong and tries to make him look at her to tell her.

• Ares tries to make the typical romantic gestures (of which he asks advice from people other than his father, like Aphrodite and Hermes), like bringing flowers to reader after a performance, inviting her to have tea with him, etc. All with his face steaming and red up to his neck.

• If we're talking about a current relationship, reader is guaranteed the Scary Dog Privilege. Even if this Ares isn't half as bloodthirsty as people think, he can use his intimidating appearance to ward off the perverts that reader constantly runs into, being something of a bodyguard.

• He doesn't understand much, about many things, but one thing he does understand is that reader has a beautiful voice, which brings him back to reality and at the same time makes him feel like he's dreaming, he really likes reader singing before sleeping. Non-ironically, he can fall asleep when she sings. It's just so relaxing…

• At least he doesn't turn red anymore about revealing clothes, but he definitely lends his cape to reader sometimes when they're going out in public, ESPECIALLY if Zeus is with them. He respects his father, but he DEFINITELY doesn't trust him with his partner. Ever.

• Ares might even end up learning several things related to music and dancing just because of his relationship with reader! She mentions some fun facts in passing, but Ares ends up storing them in his brain for no reason. At least now he doesn't seem so out of step with Hermes.

• Overall, a great teddy bear.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[nosyp]

Crowned by Desire

Chapter 2

A/N = I'm not sure if you guys will like where the story is going... but I hope you do. And ofc this story is prone to change. I might change a bit. or a lot. Depends on my mood :P

Warning = dark, yandere, toxic relationships

Pairings = Greek Gods x reader

Summary = Trapped in the gods' realm as their servant, you find fleeting peace with Artemis. But when Hades offers you freedom and a different kind of power, you’re drawn into the dark world of the underworld. As you navigate your strange new life and a mysterious woman leaving you to question everything.

Word count = 2.1k words

Story below 👇

It’s been a week since you entered the gods’ realm, and ever since then, you’ve been reduced to a mere servant for them. Your days were spent feeding grapes into their mouths or, worse, being treated as their plaything.

Oddly enough, you’d somehow gained an unofficial title of “Third Ruler of the Gods.” It wasn’t assessed by Zeus or anyone important, but a few gods jokingly referred to you as such. To your surprise, nor Hera or Zeus were furious about it. If anything, Hera actually seemed amused. It felt like a mark, something that would never fade, a constant reminder of your peculiar position among the gods.

Every time one god finally let you go, another would pull you into their orbit. It was a relentless cycle, and today was no different. And today, you found yourself with Artemis.

“Pay attention, focus on the target,” she says with one of her hands adjusting your elbow while the other is on your back. “Okay, hold… hold…”

You paid attention to her voice, waiting for her signal to let go. 

“Okay, shoot!”

Your finger let go of the string, launching the arrow into the air. Both of you watched as the arrow flew through the air… and onto the target, perfectly in the middle. 

“There you go,” she says proudly.

Artemis was one of the better gods. Sure, she was possessive in her own way, but it wasn’t suffocating, it wasn’t as annoying. Unlike the others, she didn’t obsess over your every move or try to claim you with marks on your body as a warning to the rest. Time with her felt like a breath of fresh air. It was usually quiet strolls through the woods, hunting or whatever she wants. She let you exist in peace, unguarded, if only for a while.

For the next few hours, you two hunted and strolled around the woods. The peaceful serenity was a temporary escape from the chaos of the gods. Artemis led the way, her calm presence making it feel like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

She didn’t rush you, she allowed you to enjoy the quiet moments, the rustling leaves, and the distant calls of wildlife. There was something freeing about being in her company, the peace you felt was impeccable. 

As the evening wore on and the woods started to quiet down, Artemis stood up with her arms stretching above her head. “Unfortunately, I need to get going,” she said, a hint of reluctance in her voice. “I’ve got other matters to attend to.”

You nodded, not wanting to break the silence. “Right. Thanks for today,” you muttered softly.

She gave you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be around.”

Artemis turned away, her steps soft against the forest floor, blending into the night as if she were part of the trees themselves. You watched her leave, feeling the familiar tug of unease. Alone again.

Sighing, you made your way to the palace. Surprisingly it was quiet when you arrived, only the soft wind blowing across the room. Hesitantly, you passed through the main room and into the hallways.

Opening the door to your room, you saw a shadow, and a tang of worry hit you. Your heart skipped a beat as you hesitated in the doorway, scanning the dark room.

“Hello?” you called out quietly, filled with unease. There was no answer, but you felt eerie.

You stepped in cautiously, watching your step as you went. The door creaked slightly behind you as your hands guided it to close. Then, a faint sound of a footstep echoed from the corner of the room, and your gaze snapped in that direction. A figure then emerged from the shadows, stepping into the dim light.

“Who’s there?” you demanded, but your voice trembled despite your attempt to sound confident.

The person grinned, its eyes glowing in the low light. "I think you already know," came the deep, familiar voice.

It was Hades.

“What do you want?” you asked, your voice barely loud enough, but still strong.

He tilted his head slightly, a small smile appearing at the corners of his lips. “I want you,” he said simply, his tone smooth, almost too calm.

Your pulse quickened, not out of fear, but something else. You had been caught in the realm of gods for so long, dragged from one god to the next, and now… Hades is standing in front of you, as if he had been waiting for this moment all along.

"You’ve been... watching me," you murmured, piecing it together. “Just like the others.”

Hades didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his shadow falling over. “The others may play their games, but I am not like them. I offer you something different.”

Your gaze shifted upwards to meet him, your mind racing with thoughts. After all, nothing good comes from Hades, the god of the underworld. 

“What do you want from me?” you asked.

He studied you for a moment, the weight of his stare being both unnerving and… magnetic. 

“Hm, nothing more than your company. I believe… you belong... with me.” He replied, his words were slow and deliberate, as though he was talking to a child.

You swallowed, trying to push past the strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. “I’m not some... possession.”

Hades’s smile softened, now amusement visible on his face. “No, you’re not. But you are someone I want to keep close. Someone who understands the balance of power... of what it means to truly be free.”

The tension in the room thickened, and you felt the urge to escape, yet you didn’t move. Something inside you told you that there was more to this than just another god trying to claim you. Something about his words felt different.

“Why me?” you asked quietly, unable to stop the question. “Why are you so persistent?”

His gaze softened, a rare vulnerability flickering in his eyes before it was disappearing again. “Because... you don’t belong to the games the others play. You’ve seen what it’s like to be treated like nothing more than a pawn. I am offering you a choice. A chance to escape”

You didn’t know how to respond, the weight of his offer settling heavily in the air between you. Hades wasn’t offering you power or gifts like the others had. He was offering something more dangerous. His trust, his space, and a place in his realm.

Somehow, in this sick and twisted game, everyone believed you were more than what you were. Yet, they were treating you like an object. A prize that could be won. You highly doubted the fact that Hades thought any differently. 

The rest was a blur. You had no recollection of what you even said, and now you’re somehow in bed with the two rulers of the underworld. 

The room was dark, shielded from the faint glow of the underworld's endless fires casting shadows on the walls. You could feel the strength of their presence beside you, Hades was on your left while Persephone was on the other. They hadn’t said much after you were led here, but there was an undeniable tension in the air, a strange comfort that made your heart race. 

You shifted slightly, trying to process everything that had happened. How had you gone from being a mere servant in the gods' realm to this dark corner of the underworld?

The duo was quite excited when you stepped foot into the underworld. Saying Persephone was elated was an understatement, she was ecstatic.

"I never thought anyone could visit like this, oh the things we’ll do together." she had said, her voice gentle but laced with something else. 

Now, both gods were here with you, in the quiet of the underworld, and all you could do was wonder what the hell had just happened. You couldn’t help but feel like you were caught between two worlds, not really fully belonging to either.

Hades shifted in his sleep, and you instinctively tried to pull away, but his arm shot out before you could go any further. He pulled you closer with an iron grip and stuck you between them. The warmth of his touch was strangely comforting, as though this was where you were supposed to be.

Persephone, sensing your discomfort, spoke up. "Don’t worry," she said, her voice soothing in the stillness. "We don’t bite... unless you force it."

You let out a nervous laugh, unsure if it was suited for the situation, but somehow, it felt like the tension in the room had eased a little. "I didn’t ask for any of this."

"And that’s exactly why you’re here," Persephone said cryptically. "You didn’t come looking for power or glory. You came to escape."

Escape. The thought echoed in your mind. You had been planning to run for so long, and now you had somehow ended up here, surrounded by beings who controlled the very realm of death.

"Do you think I could actually leave?" you asked. “Escape this hell hole?”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, you thought they might not answer. Then, Hades spoke, his voice low and commanding but not unkind. "No one ever truly leaves the underworld. But it doesn’t necessarily mean you have to be a prisoner."

The weight of his words seeped into you like poison. You had heard whispers, stories of the underworld’s control, of gods who ruled with absolute power. But in that moment, you realized you were not a mere pawn… well, at least, not in their eyes.

Persephone shifted, placing a hand on your arm. "If you’re looking for freedom, you’ve already found it. You just have to learn to accept it. This is freedom."

And with that, the tension in the room eased, leaving you to wonder what your future held in this strange, dark place. You agreed they were nice, but this wasn’t exactly what you wanted to do for the rest of your life.

The next morning, you spotted a woman standing near the edge of the underworld, her presence odd yet strangely calming. You stepped closer to her, curiosity washing over you. The closer you get, the clearer she became.

She had long dark hair that framed her face softly, and though she looked out of place, there was a warmth in her gaze that contrasted the coldness of the surroundings. Her clothes were simple, nothing like the gods’ lavish clothing. She wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, yet somehow it made sense.

Her eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, you could see a familiar kind of understanding in them. She didn’t say anything and just looked at you in silence.

It took you a second, but when the realization hit, your heart skipped. Those were the eyes of a mother. 

“You know… being separated from your kid hurts…” she says with sorrow. It was visible in her eyes and voice.

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. The words she spoke felt like they held more weight than you could grasp. 

She seemed to sense your uncertainty and gave a soft, understanding smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward.” She said while looking around, trying to fully take in the surroundings. “This place… it’s not the easiest to be in, is it?”

You don’t know how to reply to that either. The underworld was suffocating, its darkness pressing in on you no matter where you went. There was no sunlight, no warmth. Just the cold embrace of the gods’ realm. But her words made it feel… less suffocating somehow.

“I just want him to be okay,” she continues, her gaze falling to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I always worry about him. But this time… I have to trust that he’ll be able to handle whatever comes next.”

It’s strange. The calmness in her voice, despite everything. You couldn’t help but wonder how she’d managed to hold onto her sanity, especially when her own son was caught in the chaos of the gods. 

“I’m sorry…” you say, although you knew you weren’t the one at fault.

Silence followed, and none of you said anything for a fleeting moment. 

“If you don’t mind me asking… What's his name?” you ask with uncertainty.

“Percy… Percy Jackson,”

[voice-of-desire]

>Desi? Place is kinda going whack! What's going on?

>Are... are you okay?

< Hades, @056-hades >

. . . ? 👁🔬🔴💕❔️

Heyyy... 🤨🤔❔️ Hey...! 🔀❕️👀 Y̴o̸u̸ 🫵❤️‍🔥💋💖💗💕—a̴h̶a̶h̷h̵ 😵‍💫—f̵i̷n̷a̸l̴l̸y̷ ̵u̴p̶.̶.̶.̴!̷ 😯😄😍💤🆙️

👐🫂❤️‍🔥

You hhad me... 👉❤️‍🔥😞 so v̶e̵r̸y̶ 📈‼️ w̶o̸r̶r̶i̵e̴d̸, 😱😰💔🥀 l̴o̴v̷v̷e̷.̸.̸.̸ 🥲❤️‍🔥💞💝💋🫶

[devotedfem]

Persephone (Teaser)

Jungkook, also known as Hades the king of underworld, has to run a company on earth to watch over his future soul targets. What he didn't expect though, was to see you; a beautiful and ethereal girl who grows flowers wherever she sets a foot. The dark urge to take you was strong enough to blind his judgment, making him want to steal you from Demeter and go to war with Olympus itself.

Jungkook x f. reader

Teaser: 450 words.

Whole fic: 3.5k words.

Genre: Hades and persephone au | yander-ish.

Tags: Possessive behavior, retelling of persephone and hades, captivity, Jungkook is infatuated and whipped for reader, reader is bubbly and innocent, smut, kidnapping but it's kind of consensual, grumpy x sunshine type of trope, fluff.

sneak peek ↓

You kneel on the grass, picking flowers while the breeze moves your long hair, unknowing that you were being watched.

Jungkook stood tall in front of the large window glass of his office that stretch from the ceiling to the floor. He had his hands in his pockets, and his breath was taken away by the sight of a stunning girl in his company’s gardens, picking flowers as if she was fucking Cinderella.

He’s known for having an iron grip and being ruthless with anyone who dares to disrespect him and his territory. Invading his property as if it were a public park was reason enough to have you on your knees begging for forgiveness. He doesn’t tolerate people that acts out of line, that’s why everyone in this building and in the underworld flinch with terror at the very sight of him.

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side when he caught the sight of flowers growing from your touch, you looked ethereal and otherworldly in his garden surrounded by flowers, as if you were in your element. He couldn’t take his dark eyes off you, feeling captivated by your beauty.

His brows knitted in a deep frown, who are you? And what are you doing here? He didn’t know about any goddess or semi-goddess that grows flowers besides Demeter, and she didn't have a daughter that he knows of.

His gaze burned on you so intently that you felt it, lifting your chin up to look at him from your spot. And you did something that took him by surprise, you waved a hand at him with a bright and sweet smile on your face, making Jungkook inhale sharp at the gesture. You looked so beautiful smiling so brightly, it made Jungkook’s pupils dilate in a predatory way.

He swallows hard, his fists clenching in his pocket with the urge to grab. You, the Cinderella girl, are not aware of the darkness that you have just awakened, triggering something deep and primal within Jungkook.

“Bring her up to my office,” he barked an order to the quiet assistant from behind him without looking away from you. The woman shriek at his voice, “now!” he screamed turning around to throw daggers at her, making the poor assistant run away to get to you.

He licked his pierced bottom lip when you kept picking flowers unaware of the predator hovering over you, ready to pounce at its prey. But first, he’ll find out who you are and what are you doing here, fragile and innocent, in a world full of evil beings and humans.

You won’t be out of his sight until he figured you out.

You want to read the whole fic right away? You can read it on my Patreon.

The fic will be posted on my Tumblr in 4 weeks in time.

[authorscurse]

Too Protective

[L.C Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] Requests are OPEN Synopsis: Having a protective younger brother is one thing but now you know where he got it.  Pairing: Luke Castellan and Poseidon's child reader Warning: Luke does not become bad, chaotic family, teeth rotting fluff, Poseidon and Percy being protective W.C: 2.5k

You knew that Percy could be a protective brother at times, you've seen it multiple times. You found it quite endearing how he's half your height but willing to jump in front of you to protect you. However, there are times you find it very annoying. You never really thought where he got it from. Not until now at least. 

Here you were, sitting in the big house with none other than you, your boyfriend Luke, your younger brother Percy, and your Godly father Poseidon. Percy and Poseidon were both sitting across you and Luke with their arms folded across their chests. Both of them were staring straight at Luke and the poor boy could only smile awkwardly. 

Okay, let's rewind that a bit to give you a little bit of context. It all started one beautiful day in Camp Half-Blood. 

"PERSEUS JACKSON!" Or maybe not..

"Why did you soak Luke with paint?" You furiously asked the younger blonde while chasing him around the whole Poseidon cabin. "It was accidental! He ran into me and Grover's trap!" Percy explained, heavily panting because you've been chasing him around the whole cabin for 10 minutes now. 

The whole cabin was an absolute mess. Bed sheets and pillows were on the floor from being thrown or used by Percy to block you from grabbing him. "Accidental? Campers heard you and Grover saying how it was meant for Luke!" You yelled stopping for a moment to breathe. Percy released a sigh of relief but knowing you long enough he did not put the protective pillow down.  "Go apologize to Luke, Percy," You instructed him sternly, running a hand through your hair to fix it. 

"No, he deserved it," Percy replied stubbornly making you glare at him. He flinches and raises the pillow to his face in fear you'd hit him. "Go, apologize to him, Percy. Now!" You ordered and pointed towards the door of the Cabin. Percy only rolled his eyes and left mumbling about how it was unfair and why should he apologize. 

After cleaning the mess you both made in the cabin you left the cabin to do your duties as a camp counselor. You spent your morning training the younger campers sword fighting and helped out the Dionysus and Demeter cabin by plucking strawberries from the bushes. 

You were busy cleaning up the arrows from archery class when suddenly two pairs of arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you. You let out a squeal and turned around to see your curly-haired boyfriend Luke. 

A wide grin plastered on his face as he placed you down and gave a kiss on your forehead. "Well hello handsome, I hope you didn't have a hard time cleaning the paint off of you," You jokingly said while playing with some of the curls on his head. He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head, "Wasn't much trouble. I hope you didn't scare little Percy too much, heard from some campers you chased Percy around the whole cabin," He says tucking a loose hair behind your ear. 

"He deserved it," You say placing a kiss on his cheek and smiling at him. "If stares can kill I think I'll already be serving Hades in the underworld by now," Luke joked. You turned around to where he was looking and saw your little brother Percy glaring at Luke. Once the poor kid saw you looking at him his eyes went wide and turned away and almost tripped making you and Luke laugh. 

"I was shocked when he came up to me earlier and said sorry," He chuckled while leaning against one of the targets while you removed the arrows from it. "Told him to do so, glad he obeyed me," You said placing the arrows in their respective quivers. "He startled me, he was a bit grumpy about it but still apologized," He recalled making you laugh at your little brother's actions. 

"Little protective Percy, wonder where he got it from," You say letting out a sigh. Luke helped you pick up more arrows before you both heard some campers running and yelling. "What's happening?" Luke asked, confused to see multiple campers running towards one direction. "We should see what's wrong," You tell him. He nods in agreement and takes your hand in his before running towards the scene that seems to have caught the attention of the campers. 

You and Luke were both shocked to see about 30 campers gathered at the entrance of the camp. Both of you tried to squeeze between the chaos to get a full view of what was happening. The two of you were shocked to find out what got the attention of the campers. You both saw Chiron, Percy and...your FATHER?! 

"There's my daughter!" Poseidon says loudly and grabs your arm to pull you in a hug. You could hear campers whispering around you about how lucky you were and how shocked they were to see the literal sea god in Camp Half-Blood. 

"What are you doing here?" You asked still shocked to see your dad. He released you from the hug and it was then you only saw what he was wearing. He was wearing his Birkenstock sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, a shirt with coconuts and parrots, and a fisherman's hat on his head. "Is it wrong to visit my kids?" He asked with a wide smile.

"What about Zeus—" You try to say but get cut off by Chiron saying the three of you should talk in the big house instead. The walk to the big house was extremely awkward, to say the least. It was rare for a godly parent to visit Camp Half-Blood, let alone one of the big three gods to visit their child. You were wondering how the actual Hades did your dad get to visit you and your brother in Camp. Zeus should have blasted him by now! 

You and Percy sat across each other while your father roamed around the Big House and pointed out artefacts and paintings. "Dad, what are you doing here?" You asked gaining the attention of your father. He places the vase of flowers down and sits beside Percy. "Well—" Your father starts but you quickly cut him off "Straight to the point please, Dade," Poseidon winces at your tone and finally gives a serious answer. Who would have thought that the literal sea god winces and is somewhat afraid of his daughter? Well, dear reader, even your author is shocked. 

"Percy told me you have a boyfriend," He answers quickly. Your gaze falls on Percy and the poor kid's eyes widen like saucers and look down on his lap. "Out of all the demigods you could have chosen you chose the son of the messenger?" Poseidon asks dramatically waving his hands around. "A thief's son? Really?" Poseidon asks completely in shock. You let out a sigh and massage your temple. Your father was quite the dramatic person now and then. 

"His name's Luke Castellan," Percy says in a small voice making you glare at him. His eyes widen again and looks down in his lap immediately afraid to meet your gaze. You reminded him of a Medusa however you didn't have a snake for hair and wouldn't turn him into stone, maybe only murder him but still. 

"I want to meet this boyfriend of yours," Poseidon says. You try to convince him not to but he wouldn't hear any of your excuses. You could only sigh in defeat and look for Luke. That's how you both got to where you are now. 

"So, you're the son of Hermes, correct?" Poseidon asks still glaring at Luke. "Yes, sir, yes," He says politely. "What do you want from my daughter, son of Hermes?" Poseidon asks placing his hands on the table and leaning closer. "Power? Fame? What do you want, boy?" Luke denies all questions. "I love your daughter, sir," Luke says and laces his hand in yours from underneath the table making a small smile appear on your face. 

Poseidon and Percy lean back in their seats not entirely convinced. You glare at both of them making them clear their throats and sit straight in their seat. "How long have you liked my daughter, son of Hermes?" Poseidon asks trying not to catch your eye and turn his full attention to Luke. "His name is Luke, Dad," you say between gritted teeth. "Well, how long have you liked my daughter, Luke?" Poseidon rephrased. "Ever since she got into camp, sir, 3 years ago," Luke answers. 

"How would I be sure that you wouldn't break my daughter's heart?" Poseidon asks. Luke straightens his posture and clears his throat but never removes his hand from yours. "I can't exactly promise that I'll be the best boyfriend because I know there will be times that I won't be able to make the best decisions, do the things that would make her happy, and say the things that won't break her heart. However, what I do promise to do is that I'm willing to do my best to be the person she needs and rely on. I am aware that I'm not the best but I'm willing to do my best, for her and only her," Luke answers truthfully while squeezing your hand tightly. 

You felt tears forming in your eyes at his words. For all your life so far you've never been treated with so much care and love before until Luke came. Not even your mother wanted you and the people around you kept thinking you were out of your mind. A demigod's life is not exactly the best. When you first arrived at Camp Half-Blood you still felt out of place but Luke made you feel more comfortable around Camp. He introduced himself first as the son of Hermes and tour you around the whole Camp. He never left your side ever since then. 

Never once did he ever make you feel unloved and unwanted, unlike the people you've had in your life before. He became your rock, the person you could always lean on whenever you needed to let your guard down. Before you knew it, you were in love with your best friend. 

"I love her, sir," He says to Poseidon, but his attention and eyes aren't on the sea god. It was on you. His soft brown eyes were staring at you and only you. You felt him squeeze your hand 3 times. I love you. A smile appears on your face. No, it wasn't the forced smile you would always give to people. It was a genuine smile. The smile only Luke can make you do. 

Poseidon watches the two of you and he can't help a small smile to appear on his face. His daughter was in love and he can't help but deny he likes the guy for her. Poseidon lets out a sigh and gains the attention of both you and Luke. Luke clears his throat and opens his mouth to say more but Poseidon raises his hand to stop him. 

The god stands up making you, Percy, and Luke stand up as well. Poseidon smiles and extends his hand forward. Luke's eyes widen and takes Poseidon's hand and gives it a firm squeeze. Poseidon gently tugs Luke forward and says a few things that only he and Luke can hear. You and Percy look at each other wondering what your father might have said to Luke. 

"Keep her safe, Luke, remember what I said. I'll be seeing you kids during the summer solstice," Poseidon gives you and your brother his famous wink and becomes a form of light. The three of you look away to avoid disintegrating and when you look back your Father is gone. Only the faint smell of sea breeze remained. 

You and Luke walk out of the Big House hand in hand while Percy still has his arms crossed against his chest. "Wait up little man," You grab a hold of the the back of Percy's shirt and pull him back in front of you and Luke. Percy kept his eyes on the ground and you smile at his antics. You pull him in a hug which he quickly returns. "I love you, little idiot," You whisper in his ear. "I love you too, big idiot," He says back. 

When you both release each other from the hug Luke ruffles Percy's hair. "If Dad likes you that means I should too, but that doesn't mean you could get to eat my sister's face in front of me!" 

"I promise to make sure you're not looking next time," Luke promises making Percy nod slowly. "You go finish your chores, little idiot before Mr D whoops your ass," Percy nods and gives you a salute before running off to his chorea and annoys Annabeth. "So, your Dad knows me," Luke says wrapping his arms around your waist. 

He looks down at you with a big smile on his face. A big love-sick smile. "Mhmm, so, mind telling me what my Dad told you?" You ask him playing with his collar. "He tells me to take good care of you and make sure you don't hurt yourself." Luke's fingers lift your chin and make you look at him. It seemed as if the whole world was fading into the background and you both could only see each other. 

Luke tilts his head slightly to the side and leans in closer but suddenly thunder goes off making him tighten his lips into a thin line making you laugh. The curly-haired boy hides his face in the crook of your neck and sighs. You pull him away from your nack and make him look at you, a pout seen on his face making you giggle. 

You tilt your head slightly and connect your lips. Thunder going off in the distance but you and Luke couldn't care less about it. Both of you pull away with smiles on your faces. "He also said that if I were to break your heart he'll take me in my sleep and drown me and make sure sharks devour me," Luke says making you roll your eyes and look up. "Dad?" You ask and thunder goes off again. "I think it's only proper," Luke jokes making you roll your eyes again. 

"I hate you both," You say walking away from your boyfriend. "Hey! I was joking, angel. Come back!" Luke says walking towards you. You look back and sprint away with him hot in your trail. "Come back here, angel!" Luke shouts running after you. You could only giggle and run ever faster away from him. 

Percy, Grover, and Annabeth watch you both from a good distance, with wide smiles on their face. "I've never seen them so happy before until now," Annabeth says and Grover nods in agreement. "I think Luke's great for Y/n— don't tell them I said that," Percy confesses. "You better convince me not to, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth smirks and run away. "Hey! Annabeth come back here!" Percy yells running after Annabeth. 

"Love birds," Grover smiles watching four of his friends. 

[delulusionwl]

♡ I Can't Keep You Off My Diary ─ pt i

♡ I Can't Keep You Off My Diary ─ pt iI Pairing ── Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader! | Apollo!Daughter Word ── 2k Synopsis ── In wich Clarisse see drawings of herself in reader's diary. Warnings ── Nothing much? (I hope), Clarisse and her group being annoying as usual, Reader being the target of their teasing? A bit of low self-steem? Insults of reader's apparence? (nothing related by weight, height or strong facial features or body limbs) Please help me with this, I'm new lol A/n ── English is not my native language, forgive any mistakes! Please alert me if any of the nicknames might be offensive to any racial group. I would hate for that to happen, and it’s not my intention. However, since my native language is not English, some of the nicknames may not have racial connotations in my language – which might happen in English. I appreciate your help with this! Please, let me know if it's good hehe :) Part ii has been released, go check it out! *Images are not mine, so credit goes to the respective owners

Y/n wasn’t like any other child of Apollo. She stood out from the more predominant characteristics of all her siblings. The truth was that she often felt like an ugly duckling, with no hope of turning into a beautiful swan.

Amidst her siblings—blond, red-haired, or light-brown, with eyes ranging from honey to the brightest green—Y/n stood out, but not because she radiated more light than the others. Her beauty was cold. While the others resembled a beautiful morning sunbeam, Y/n kept her rays hidden behind layers of clouds—enough to light the day, but not enough to make it vibrant.

Her dark eyes and hair, along with her lightly tanned skin—barely touched by the sun—set her apart from the other children of Apollo, who seemed to be lovingly kissed by sunlight, vibrant, vivid, golden. These features enhanced Y/n’s cold beauty, making her impossible to go unnoticed. Some even claimed she couldn’t be a child of Apollo if the god himself hadn’t claimed her.

Despite her strong and contrasting characteristics in her cabin, Y/n’s abilities proved her to be a legitimate child of the sun god. In training and combat, her bow was her strongest point, always hitting its mark regardless of whether the target was stationary or in motion. She was also a good healer, like most of her siblings, and helped in the infirmary during tough times—especially after Capture the Flag.

What truly made her stand out, however, were her artistic talents: writing, singing, and drawing. Y/n excelled at everything related to art but insisted on keeping it to herself, even among her talented siblings. This was another distinctive trait: unlike most children of Apollo, she wasn’t a social butterfly. She didn’t flaunt her talents or surround herself with friends like her siblings. Y/n was more introspective but could be a great friend when she wanted to.

Y/n’s cold beauty set her apart from all the other children of Apollo. She didn’t go unnoticed—least of all by Clarisse.

The daughter of Ares had seen Y/n’s arrival at camp, skittish like a scalded black cat. Like everyone else at camp, Clarisse had initially thought, So Hades had a daughter? But the truth came out shortly after the rumors spread. Y/n was a daughter of the sun.

Clarisse, already a standout in her cabin, with her group well-established, “welcomed” the new daughter of Apollo to camp. From then on, whenever Clarisse saw Y/n, it was impossible not to make jokes about her appearance.

“Oh my gods, are you sure you’re Apollo’s kid?”

“If the sun had a cold, dull version, that’d be you.”

“Hey, Winter Apollo, ready to brighten our day? On second thought, don’t—the day might get even worse.”

“I always thought Apollo’s kids were lively and full of energy. But you? You seem to be on night mode all the time.”

Many such remarks were made by Clarisse and her group over the years. Sometimes, Y/n even laughed along—not to appease the children of Ares or ingratiate herself, but because the jokes were genuinely creative. The first time Y/n laughed, it only fueled sharper, slightly more biting remarks.

Clarisse vividly remembered the day. The sun was setting, giving way to night, and Y/n was returning to her cabin after a long day helping in the infirmary. Clarisse and her group were heading to their own cabin, inevitably crossing paths with Y/n.

Y/n looked at the group ahead, her expression neutral. As she moved to step aside and let them pass—hopefully without interaction—she was stopped.

“Well, well, the daughter of Apollo. If that’s really who you are. What’s this? Stole the essence of the sun but forgot to bring it to camp?” Clarisse teased, stopping briefly in her path, scanning Y/n from head to toe with an amused grin as her siblings laughed at her comment.

To the children of Ares’ surprise—especially Clarisse’s—Y/n let out a small laugh. The sound echoed in Clarisse’s ears, her eyes locked onto Y/n. “There’s the glow,” Clarisse thought, captivated by Y/n’s smile.

When Clarisse finally shook off the thoughts and the sound of Y/n’s laugh, her siblings were already piling on more jokes, sharper than before. She quickly snapped back to the present, slipping her hands into her pockets.

“Gods, with the way you are, Apollo might be rethinking his parenthood,” one of Clarisse’s brothers said, gesturing dismissively toward Y/n. This time, the comment didn’t amuse her as much, though the other children of Ares—Clarisse excluded—found it funny.

“Come on, leave our little sunblocked alone. Or she might start crying,” Clarisse said with a playful grin, eliciting more laughter from her brothers as they moved on toward their cabin.

As they walked away, Clarisse’s gaze briefly returned to Y/n, who took a deep breath and resumed her own path, glancing back at the Ares group and briefly meeting Clarisse’s eyes.

From that point on, Y/n wasn’t often seen near the Ares children. Camp was full of demigods, and Y/n would inevitably cross paths with others—or so Clarisse thought. But Y/n mainly appeared in training, the dining pavilion, occasionally in the infirmary, and during Capture the Flag.

Wherever Y/n was, if Clarisse was nearby, her eyes seemed magnetically drawn to the daughter of Apollo. Whether it was a crowded space or an open field, Clarisse couldn’t help but look, even if just for a few moments.

The first time Clarisse’s eyes were locked for more than a few seconds and she couldn’t look away from Y/n was in the dining hall at night, where the daughter of Apollo was talking with her siblings, wearing a beautiful smile and laughing softly with them.

The embers of the flames from the dining hall’s pyre made her dark hair shimmer with red and golden highlights, and her skin reflected the flames almost like a mirror, becoming subtly flushed from the heat and glow of the firelight. Her dark eyes and a smile just a bit wider than usual seemed to brighten the surroundings. Clarisse swallowed hard upon noticing all this and forced her attention back to her own group.

The daughter of Ares tried not to think about the daughter of Apollo over the years, but Y/n had already carved out a place in Clarisse’s curly-haired head. So, every time she spotted Y/n from a distance, Clarisse allowed herself a few seconds to look at her, just enough to take her in, before quickly turning her attention back to her group, pushing thoughts of the daughter of Apollo away.

Those thoughts, however, were about how Clarisse would like to see Y/n more often, how she hoped to talk to her more often... maybe without the sarcastic remarks. But Clarisse’s brain had already made a list of jokes, each one less rude and intimidating than the last, but a little funnier, unconsciously hoping to make Y/n laugh at one of them again.

Until one day, Clarisse, accompanied by two of her group members, was on her way to Hephaestus’s forge. Alec, one of Clarisse’s brothers, had left his sword there to refine its blade since the Capture-the-Flag game was at the end of the month. As they walked across the open lawn where a path led to the forge, Clarisse’s eyes fell on someone sitting in the grass with a notebook and pencil in hand, facing a bird perched on a rock.

The daughter of Ares chuckled through her nose, catching the attention of her brothers, who were casually chatting about a few strategies and how they hoped to defeat the children of Athena in the upcoming Capture-the-Flag. Alec and Darius smiled, amused, as they followed Clarisse across the lawn.

“Look at that, it’s ‘Apollo on mute,’” Clarisse said as they got close enough, causing the bird on the rock to quickly fly away and Y/n to look up at her, squinting slightly against the brightness of the day. Alec and Darius’s laughter was audible. Clarisse glanced at the open notebook in Y/n’s hands, which contained a few sketches: on one page was the landscape of the field, and on the other, the startled bird. “What do we have here?” Clarisse said, snatching the notebook from the other girl, who jumped up immediately.

“Clarisse, give it back!” Y/n said loudly, nervous, stepping closer, but Alec and Darius were quicker, positioning themselves in front of her to prevent her from reaching Clarisse, who held the notebook in her hands.

"Ah, what’s the matter?" Clarisse said with an amused laugh, and Y/n looked at her nervously, casting the same uneasy glances at Alec and Darius, who were thoroughly enjoying the daughter of Apollo’s reaction. "You’re not half bad at drawing, Ray-less." The daughter of Ares turned her attention back to the notebook, flipping a page and finding a drawing of a rose with many thorns curling across both sheets, along with some scattered phrases, some in Ancient Greek and others in English. Fragments of what seemed to be thoughts. "Oh... look what we have here... is this a diary?" Clarisse said, laughing, as she turned another page to see what else was inside.

"Clarisse, this isn’t funny. Give it back. Now!" Y/n said in a louder tone, reaching her hand out quickly, demanding that the daughter of Ares return her notebook.

"Chill, girl," Clarisse said nonchalantly, looking at the page she had turned to. "Why the rush, Y/n? Did you write down who your crush is in here?" The daughter of Ares laughed, and that was enough for Y/n to try pushing past Alec and Darius, who were standing right in front of her, to snatch the notebook from Clarisse herself.

"Hold it, overcast sky," Alec said with a sarcastic smirk, stopping Y/n from getting any closer.

"Clarisse!" Y/n called out loudly, her eyes fixed on the girl, who had just flipped another page in the notebook.

As soon as Y/n saw Clarisse’s eyes widen slightly and her lips part softly, her heart skipped a beat, and she swallowed hard. "Shit." The daughter of Apollo thought, swallowing again.

"C-Clarisse. Give it back!" Y/n pleaded, her voice trembling, her face starting to turn red, but Clarisse’s eyes remained fixed on the notebook as she turned more pages.

The daughter of Ares’s brothers grew curious, and that was enough for them to move closer to their sister, one on each shoulder, peering at the pages in the hands of a practically frozen Clarisse.

"IT’S YOU!" Darius shouted in delight, and Alec burst into laughter while the two girls stood there, almost like statues.

Some drawings were heroic, worthy of one of those paintings of the Greek gods: Clarisse with her spear, battle clothes, hair and parts of her attire flowing in the wind, claiming her victory over faceless enemy bodies. Clarisse shouting and warring, accompanied by her own army of faceless people.

Other drawings? Something simpler, calm… gentle, perhaps a side of Clarisse she didn’t let many see: Clarisse smiling with her siblings—not a sarcastic or amused smile, the one she always gives after tormenting another poor soul at camp. No, not that one. It was an open, carefree, and relaxed smile. Clarisse with her piercing eyes and long lashes, looking straight at whoever's eyes were on the page. Clarisse with a small smile, just like she had during one of the past campfires, except this time with a flower in her hair. A real flower, pressed between the pages of the same drawing.

Y/n cleared her throat while Alec and Darius laughed beside a frozen Clarisse, who was staring at the drawings.

"Had your fun?" Y/n said, steadying the tremble in her voice, stepping forward and snatching her notebook back quickly. She closed it and started walking back to her cabin. Even though Y/n tried to appear unshaken, the undertone of her voice betrayed her mortification.

Clarisse finally snapped out of it when she heard the firm steps on the dirt fading away. She turned, watching Y/n moving away as fast as she could, while her brothers still laughed beside her.

"Wow, she did more than just write down who her crush was," Alec said, chuckling.

"Congrats, Clarisse, you’ve got yourself a fan," Darius said, laughing even harder, leaning on his sister’s shoulder.

Clarisse brushed Darius’s hand off her, and although her face was flushed, her brows were furrowed, and the glare she shot Darius was far from friendly.

"Shut up, idiot," Clarisse snapped at Darius, irritated, shoving him hard enough to send him to the ground. When she turned to Alec with the same fiery glare, he shut his lips and raised his hands, trying to compose himself. "I swear to the gods," the daughter of Ares muttered angrily, trying to pull herself together.

"Just one question..." Darius said as he got up, catching his breath. "Why’s your face so red?" He smirked, teasing his sister, while Alec struggled not to laugh.

"It’s the sun, idiot." Clarisse said curtly, blaming something else as she started walking again toward Hephaestus's forge, refusing to think about what had just happened.

Alec and Darius followed a few steps behind her, stifling their laughter, while Clarisse stomped forward, determined to keep her thoughts far from Y/n’s notebook. Far from Y/n.

"'Apollo on mute' has her glow," Alec whispered to Darius, who stifled another laugh as they trailed behind Clarisse. "Clari, wait up!" Alec called out, still laughing.

Part 2 >

[iheartmira]

Can you doo boothill x reader

Where he was after the reader for they hade a really big bounty on them but right when he was about to get them they escaped?

"the bounty and the bullet" - boothill x reader

✧ ✧ ✧

the bounty on your head was enough to make even the laziest bounty hunters salivate. enough zeroes to make a man reckless, desperate. you’d lost count of how many wannabe gunslingers, corporate dogs, and dead-eyed mercenaries had come sniffing after you, thinking they’d be the one to bring in the ghost of the stars.

but boothill? he was different. he wasn’t just after the payday. he was after you.

you’d been dodging him for weeks, barely slipping through the cracks each time he came close. the bastard had an uncanny knack for knowing where you’d be, showing up just late enough to make your pulse spike but early enough to leave you no time to breathe. and this time? this time, he was closer than ever.

the old freight station was supposed to be abandoned, a place for you to lay low while the heat cooled. the air was thick with dust, rust clinging to the walls like barnacles on a dead ship. you could hear the distant hum of power lines still faintly alive, the only sign this place hadn’t been swallowed whole by time.

then came the sound you dreaded most: the jingle of spurs. slow. unhurried. a gunslinger who knew there was nowhere left to run.

"well, well," boothill drawled, his voice cutting through the silence like the edge of a well-honed blade. "ain't this a sight. finally got you penned in, darlin'."

you exhaled, already scanning for exits. the rafters were too high, the main door blocked by his imposing figure. that left the side panel... a slim chance, but better than none.

"you've been a darn headache to chase," boothill continued, stepping closer.

the dim light caught the sharp gleam of his teeth as he grinned. "ten billion credits worth o' trouble, and i gotta say, you sure wear it well."

"you here for the money?" you asked, keeping your tone level, casual. the kind of voice that had slipped through countless traps before.

"nah." he tilted his head, eyes glinting like a reticle settling on a target.

"a legend's only worth somethin' if someone's around to tell it, ain't it? hate to see yours get cut short."

a chill ran down your spine. boothill wasn’t like the others, wasn’t some ipc hound looking for a fat paycheck. he was enjoying this. the chase, the thrill, the knowledge that every second he got closer, your story became part of his.

too bad for him. you weren’t about to let yourself become a footnote in someone else’s tale.

the second his boots scuffed against the floor, you moved. a sharp feint to the right, making it look like you'd try to bolt past him. his hand twitched toward his gun, ready to pin you down...

and that’s when you really ran.

a burst of motion, straight for the side panel. you hit the latch with your shoulder, felt the metal groan before it gave way. the air outside was sharp and cold, the drop steep, but hesitation was a death sentence. you leaped without looking back.

boothill’s curse echoed behind you, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun firing. not at you, but at the door frame, sparks flying where he’d aimed just a breath too slow.

you hit the ground in a roll, feet finding purchase on the loose gravel. the engine of your stolen speeder was already humming nearby, primed and waiting. you scrambled onto it, twisting the throttle hard just as boothill stepped into the open, his silhouette framed against the flickering station lights.

for a second, just a second, you met his gaze. that shark-toothed grin was still in place, but his eyes told a different story.

you’d won this round.

but you both knew this wasn’t over.

boothill raised two fingers to his hat, tipping it in a lazy salute. "run fast, sugar," he called over the roar of your engine. "next time, i ain’t missin'."

you smirked, wind whipping past your face as you tore into the dark.

next time? maybe.

but if he wanted to catch you, he’d have to earn it.

✧ ✧ ✧

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