Do y’all ever think abt how demigods would go on dangerous death quests, kill monsters, battle psychopaths, live in sewers, walk hundreds of miles, and commit multiple crimes and then at the end of the summer they would just go home and go to school and live a normal life and pretend it never happened?! And they would have to worry about normal stuff like grades and remembering to take the chicken outta the freezer?? And they never told anyone about how they literally stopped the apocalypse multiple times over the break??
pairing: son of athena!renjun x daughter of aphrodite!reader
genre: fluff, angst
word count: 6.6k
author’s note: it’s finally here, the first fic in demigods: electric boogaloo! it feels so nostalgic to return to this pairing because i haven’t written them in so long i really hope you guys enjoy it you also might notice that i am including the member’s perspective a lot more than i did in the previous series. i wanted to try something different with the sequels since i rarely ever include perspective shifts in my fics because i find it easier to write with one distinctive voice. please let me know your thoughts <3333
warning(s): depressive behavior
additional: this fic is a sequel. catch up on the original series here!
You’re not sure if it’s because you have been sitting in your bed, wrapped in 3 layers of blankets while shrouded in total darkness for an extended period of time, and your senses have suddenly become heightened because of it, but you recognize who it is by the way he knocks.
It’s Huang Renjun, your wonderful boyfriend and the sole reason why you haven’t completely morphed into one of those single-cell microorganisms that feed on bacteria in the deep, dark trenches of the ocean.
His knocking style is very much like his personality—three raps, short and sweet, but consistent. If Renjun is anything, he is consistent. He’s been consistently in love with you since you met him almost 5 years ago, patiently waiting for you to look his way, and he’s consistent now as he patiently waits for you to allow him to shoulder the weight of your grief alongside you.
Even though some of your other siblings have come by and checked on you, Renjun’s knocking is the only thing that clears your hazy mind for even a moment. You’ve lost all concept of day and night at this point, but even in your stupor, your brain hangs onto every little detail of Renjun.
Does that sound stalkerish? Perhaps.
Are you actually a stalker? Debatable.
“Just a second,” you call out, voice sounding like you have the worst pneumonia of your life. Hurriedly grabbing the cold spoons you’ve been keeping on your nightstand, you place them against your swollen eyes. It’s a depuffing trick that you normally use when you’ve eaten too many salty foods at night, but now they serve as tools to help you hide the fact that you’ve been crying.
After a couple more seconds, you finally say, “Okay, you can come in now.”
The door clicks open and Renjun walks in, holding a tray of food.
“You know, your room is technically going to qualify as a biohazard if you don’t let in some fresh air soon.”
Renjun always tries to crack a joke when he checks in on you, a valiant effort to make you smile. You’re not sure what your expression has been as of late, but you hope you’ve managed to squeeze out something that resembles a smile for him at least once.
With deftness, he navigates through the pitch black of your room and easily makes his way to your bedside, switching on the lamp on your nightstand.
Your corneas feel like they’ve just been lit on fire when he does it, forcing you to squint as your eyes slowly adjust, but you don’t miss the grimace on Renjun’s face when he is finally able to take a good look at you. His stormy gray eyes go over every little detail of your features, and his hand slowly reaches up to cradle your cheek. He gently runs this thumb across the still-swollen bags under your eyes.
He knows you’ve been crying. He always does. After all, you’ve never once been able to fool him when it comes to your heart.
Your eyelids flutter shut as you lean into his hand, wanting his touch to shield you from everything bad in the world.
Renjun, however, furrows his brow and turns his attention to yet another tray of untouched food that he had brought for you on your nightstand.
“You have to eat something, Y/N. Please. Even just a bite,” he whispers softly, taking a seat on the edge of your bed and nudging the new tray of food towards you. “Look, I even took out all the carrots from your curry.”
It isn’t that you’re choosing not to eat. In fact, you’re quite hungry. It’s just that every time you try to put food in your mouth, your insides twist and turn like a taut band being wrung out and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. Whether you’re sick from heartache or betrayal or anger or guilt or a mixture of all of them or something completely different, you’ll never know.
When you don’t react to the curry, Renjun picks up the small bowl of chocolate ice cream from the tray before scooping up a spoonful and attempting to feed you.
“They’re serving your favorite chocolate ice cream too,” he adds, obviously trying to entice you into wanting it by waving it in your face and letting the scent waft over to you.
You can tell how hard Renjun is trying; he always carefully picks out all of your favorites whenever he brings you food, and this time is no different. That’s why you feel so bad every time he has to take back a full tray, and you see his face grow haggard with worry. It upsets you even more that all of this is affecting his well being as well.
So you slowly lean forward, wanting to ease his stress in any way you can, and gingerly take a bite of the ice cream. Perhaps because it’s not a solid food and it quickly melts on your tongue or because Renjun is the one feeding you, but it doesn’t make you feel awful. Rather, the ice cream’s cool temperature and decadent chocolate flavor is a nice reprieve of the constant taste of drainage and bile in your throat.
When you glance back up at Renjun, he looks so relieved that he could cry at any moment. His gray eyes glimmer like crystalline starlight, and he gazes at you with so much love in his eyes. It constantly astounds you that he looks at you the way he does, as if you’re something so precious.
Especially now.
You don’t even want to think about what kind of state your appearance is in, but you’re certain it isn’t anything short of ghastly.
For the past two weeks, you’ve seldom left your bed, only getting up to use the bathroom and doing a bare-bones hygiene routine that keeps you just clean enough so you don’t start to collect grime. You most definitely have not washed your hair during this time, and you can imagine it’s just an oil slick up there.
(Renjun had mentioned a while ago about doing an oil slick painting, so maybe this will serve as inspiration for him.)
You’re wearing one of Renjun’s t-shirts as well, which you’ve lovingly deemed your comfort shirt. It’s a faded spirit tee from his high school days that he normally wears when he’s working with messy art supplies, so it has dried splatters of paint here and there. You don’t mind though; it smells like acrylic paint and Huang Renjun, a mixture that you didn’t realize would be so calming to you.
And like one of those mangled baby blankets that toddlers drag around and scream for when someone tries to take it away to wash it, this t-shirt has metaphorically and literally absorbed all of your pain (snot and tears).
So, in conclusion, you’ve looked better.
But Renjun doesn’t even seem to notice. Rather, he looks at you like you’re at your most beautiful. He always looks at you like that but particularly so now, when you feel the least beautiful, like an exhausted explorer that finally found his treasure at the end of a long journey. No, even more priceless than treasure. He looks at you as if you’re the half-human, half-god incarnate of his very heart and soul—the divine blood that courses through his veins.
You wonder what you did in your past life to deserve someone like him. And you hope in your next life, if you’re lucky, he’ll love you again.
“Do the airplane,” you whisper, a small smile tugging on your lips. You want to tease him, to let him know you’re okay. You’ll always be okay as long as he’s by your side.
He raises an eyebrow, trying to feign skepticism, but you can see how delighted he is that you’re slowly starting to cheer up. “The what?”
“You know, like ‘here comes the airplane…nyooom,’” you explain, waving your arm around and mimicking what parents do when they’re trying to feed their kid.
“How old are you?” He rolls his eyes.
“I just want to see how much I can get away with since you’re being extra nice to me,” you admit sheepishly.
“I’m always nice to you,” he scoffs.
Yes, he is. From the moment you’ve met him. Too nice, if you think about it. You would argue that he could actually be meaner.
And because he is so kind, despite his complaints, Renjun indulges you per usual.
“Here comes the F-16 fighter jet,” he begins, snaking his arm back and forth swiftly as he makes noises that attempt to resemble an engine revving up, but if the engine had popcorn lung.
Right before the spoon reaches your mouth, you catch his wrist and move it aside before leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on the lips.
“I love you,” you say softly after you pull back. You’ve told him many times before, and you could say it until your tongue fell out but it still wouldn’t be enough to encapsulate just how deeply you love him.
Renjun slowly blinks, the spoon threatening to slip from his grasp; every time you tell him you love him, he reacts like he can’t believe you said it. Like this is all a dream that’s too good to be true.
When he finally manages to convince himself that this is real and you, in fact, do love him, he sets everything aside and wraps an arm around your waist as he tries to pull you into his lap so he can kiss you silly. However, you quickly cover your mouth, refusing to make out with him while you’re in this state.
“I’m disgusting right now. In an extremely desperate need of a shower,” you whine, shaking your head.
He doesn’t really seem to care because he perches you on his lap anyways, kissing the back of your hand that’s over your mouth. You wonder if he’s aware of how much your self-control is clinging on for dear life when you feel his soft lips against your hand. He doesn’t push any further though, just opting to rest his forehead against your collarbone and his palms on your thighs as his thumbs rub soothing circles against your skin.
At first, you think he’s doing it to comfort you, but then you realize that he’s actually just fidgeting because there’s something on his mind. Ever the loud thinker, you don’t even need to see Renjun’s face to know that he’s probably got his brows furrowed and his poor lip gnashed between his teeth as he contemplates with that big, Athenian brain of his.
You card your hands through his coarse hair, guiding him away from your chest and tilting his face up towards you so you can look into his lovely gray eyes. Sure enough, they’re clouded with conflict as the gears in his head churn.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or will I have to seduce it out of you?” you tease.
Renjun doesn’t react to your joke, instead gently lifting you from his lap and setting you beside him on the bed. You search his expression, much more concerned than before, nervously waiting for him to speak. His hands come up to firmly grasp your arms, as if he’s trying to physically hold you together.
“Jaehyun wants to see you.”
And perhaps it’s good that he’s holding you, because you feel your blood run cold as you slump into Renjun’s arms.
Jeong Jaehyun, the child of Aphrodite, resident heartbreaker, your brother, and now—
Traitor.
The reason why the Aphrodite Cabin has basically ceased to function at this point and why you’ve been trapped in this depressive spiral for weeks.
You’re honestly still not 100% clear on what exactly happened because you simply couldn’t bear to listen to it, but you know enough. You know that Jaehyun was the one who stole the Golden Fleece, the magical artifact that protects Camp Half-Blood’s borders. You know that Jaehyun wanted to use the Golden Fleece to resurrect Kronos, King of the Titans and sworn enemy of the Olympians. You know that Jaehyun was the one responsible for the disastrous Capture the Flag game, wherein monsters with enhanced strength (thanks to the stolen Golden Fleece) were unleashed upon the campers and injured almost everyone—leaving you with a broken arm and Renjun having nearly been killed, had his sister, the head counselor of the Athena Cabin, and her boyfriend not saved him.
You know that you can never forgive Jaehyun.
“He’s been asking for you for a while now,” Renjun continues slowly, “but I just…I didn’t want to tell you until you were…better.”
“I have nothing to say to him,” you force out, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.
Renjun doesn’t respond, just wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against his chest, your cheek squished into his shoulder.
“Okay,” he whispers.
The two of you stay like that for a while, relishing in each other’s company as he holds you.
Your mind whirrs as you think about Jaehyun, and all of the memories you’ve had with him flash by—the countless times he’s called you ‘kid,’ the constant teasing, the knuckle sandwiches, the training. If it weren’t for Jaehyun, you might not have even realized your feelings for Renjun.
“You’re so sharp when it comes to other people, but you’re dense as hell when it comes to yourself,” he had said.
He was such a big part of your life, your family, and you owed so much to him. You’re not sure if you can just cut him out like this, not without some sort of closure.
Sighing, you finally say, “But I should, shouldn’t I?”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Renjun responds.
“But I think I want to,” you begrudgingly admit, leaning back from the hug so you can look at him.
Renjun smiles. “I know.”
“Will you come with me?” you ask, threading your fingers through his.
“I’d go with you to Tartarus if you asked me to,” he answers immediately, brushing your mussed hair aside so he can place a kiss on your forehead.
You wrap your arms around his neck, throwing yourself on him and clinging to him again like a koala. He slightly grunts at the impact, tucking your head right underneath his chin and kissing the crown of your head.
A few seconds pass by before he says, “You could use a shower though.”
You playfully shove him away, rolling your eyes.
“You are so not cute, Huang Renjun.”
A long, long piping hot shower later, you’re armed with another sweater of Renjun’s to serve as your armor and Renjun himself by your side—ready to face Jaehyun once and for all.
Since Camp Half-Blood has no jail or dungeon per se, Jaehyun has been kept under tight supervision in the Hades Cabin, under the watchful eye of the Hades kids while Mr. D and Chiron, the heads of the camp, consult the Olympians on stripping Jaehyun of his powers and expelling him from the camp to live as a normal human.
Your friend Cat, a Hades kid, and her brother, Sicheng, are waiting for you outside as you approach the Hades Cabin. You and Cat became close when you decided she was going to be your next matchmaking project, even setting her up with Jaehyun ironically enough.
(If you were in a joking mood, you would’ve teased that this was not the enemies-to-lovers arc that you had hoped for.)
Ultimately, things didn’t work out and the two of you just bonded over your shared interest in sticking your noses into other people’s love lives.
Cat was actually the one who broke the news to you that Jaehyun was the traitor. In fact, she and Sicheng were on the team of demigods that discovered and captured him in the Sea of Monsters, where he had been hiding out. You were grateful that she told you first, instead of letting you find out through an official announcement via Mr. D and Chiron.
When you see the Hades siblings, you grip Renjun’s hand tighter and unconsciously begin to drag your feet. You wish you could walk up confidently with your head held high, tell Cat that you’re ready to rip Jeong Jaehyun a new one, but your stomach feels like it’s about to rip you a new one.
“Y/N!” Cat waves before rushing over to you and giving you a hug. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I want to hurl,” you answer honestly.
She pats your shoulder sympathetically.
“How are you?” you ask, trying to make small talk so you can delay going inside.
“Miserable,” Cat groans. “I don’t understand why we had to give up our cabin for that loser. I’ve been on nightwatch, so I’ve barely gotten any sleep. But they are letting me stay in the Artemis Cabin for the time being since the Hunters aren’t here, and it’s the most gorgeous cabin ever.”
Since Artemis is a virgin goddess, she has no children. However, she does have a legion of maidens that have sworn loyalty to her, known as Hunters of Artemis. They remain single for their entire lives, rejecting any kind of romantic love, which in turn grants them eternal youth and pseudo-immortality as long as they keep their vows and are not killed in battle. The Artemis Cabin is largely unoccupied during the summer, since the Hunters are traveling most of the time, and no one else is allowed in unless there are special circumstances. Therefore, the interior of the cabin remains a mystery to most of the campers.
If this were any other situation, you’d be pressing Cat for more details, but you’re barely registering her words.
“Where’s your sister?” you continue absentmindedly, looking around.
“She got called into Mr. D and Chiron’s office. I’m not sure why. She’ll tell us when she’s back,” Cat explains breezily, not bothered by your lack of reaction to her other answer.
“I see,” you squeak, “How’s Sicheng?”
“Insufferable.” Cat rolls her eyes. “He got himself a girlfriend and now he doesn’t want to do his job anymore. He’s the biggest fool for Moon, and it was cute at first, but now he keeps trying to ditch me to hang out with her in the Poseidon Cabin.”
“Hey!” Sicheng protests, still within an earshot.
That sufficiently peaks your interest and distracts you from your anxiousness, as you are unable to completely shed your matchmaking ways. You lean forward, eyebrows raised.
“Sicheng got a girlfriend? And I didn’t know about it?” you gasp.
Now that you’re paying attention, you’re not sure how you missed it. As an Aphrodite kid, you can sense it when someone is in love, and Sicheng is exuding it. His aura is so strong that you’re surprised it hasn’t physically manifested itself in the form of a pink cloud that follows him everywhere.
You feel someone squeeze your hand gently. Turning, you see Renjun, who had been quietly waiting for you to finish your conversation. There’s a knowing expression on his face, and you hate that he’s aware of exactly what you’re doing.
“You’re stalling,” he points out.
“Party pooper,” Cat retorts, though she seems to understand too. Winking, she glances towards the Hades Cabin. “If Jeong Jaehyun tries anything, just let me know and I’ll skewer him. Now, go get ‘em, girl.”
You smile at her appreciatively before looking back at Renjun, who is still holding your hand. When you gaze into those cool gray eyes of his, you suddenly feel a lot braver. He gives you a small nod, encouraging you to walk inside.
Taking in a deep breath, you march up the dark stairs of the porch and fearlessly push open the door. Like everything else about the Hades Cabin, the inside is dark, low-lit with torches that are sparsely littered around the room. The entire structure is made of pure obsidian, and there are no windows. Camp Half-Blood doesn’t have a prison, but you imagine the Hades Cabin is pretty similar. It’s a far cry from the bright and pastel Aphrodite Cabin that you’re used to, and you suppose Jaehyun feels the same way.
Speaking of Jaehyun, as much as you don’t want to, he’s sitting in the middle of the room, chained to a chair that appears to be made out of Stygian iron. Stygian iron is a magic metal that is forged from the Underworld and cooled in the River Styx, limiting its wielders to only children of Hades. It’s able to absorb the essence of practically every mythical being, including demigods.
The chains that are binding him emit a faint golden glow, which indicate that it’s Celestial Bronze. Celestial Bronze is what most of the weapons wielded by demigods are made out of. It’s mined in Mount Olympus, and unlike Stygian iron, Celestial Bronze affects mythical creatures physically rather than absorbing their spiritual essence.
Jaehyun himself looks awful as well. His hair is dull and flat against his forehead. There are deep bags underneath his eyes. His face is ashen, cheeks hollowed out. Despite the fact that his body is rippled with muscle, he looks like a skeleton. As if he’s slowly deteriorating. Dying.
It both breaks your heart and terrifies you to see him in this state and being held under such maximum security, making you confront the reality of just how dangerous your brother has become.
Brother.
But he’s not really, not anymore.
“Hey, kid.”
You inhale sharply through your nose, every microfiber of your body screaming at you to turn around and run. Renjun, sensing the spike in your nerves, places a hand on the small of your back—a wordless gesture of comfort, letting you know that he’s right behind you.
“Please don’t call me that,” you respond, trying to hide the quiver in your voice.
“Sorry,” Jaehyun chuckles, a low, sickly rumble that dies inside his chest, “force of habit.”
He drags his eyes away from you and to Renjun, an amused smirk on his lips. “Hey, Renjun.”
Renjun doesn’t respond, just narrowing his eyes. The hand against your back grows firmer.
“Are you Y/N’s chaperone?”
“Why did you want to see me?” you interrupt, moving to shield Renjun from him with your body.
He casually leans back against his chair, comfortable, like he’s in his own living room. Ignoring your question completely, he asks, “How have you been?”
“Peachy,” you lie.
“And the others?” he asks, referring to your siblings. “How are things at the cabin?”
“Wonderful. Nothing but smooth sailing. Barely even noticed you were gone,” you say petulantly.
Jaehyun smiles. “That’s good. I was worried about—”
“Did you call me here to waste my time?” you demand.
“No,” he answers, looking surprisingly genuine. “I wanted to apologize. To my brothers and sisters, but to you especially, Y/N. You were the last person I wanted to hurt.”
If you weren’t so incredulous, you would laugh in his face. “You should’ve thought of that when you nearly massacred the entire camp, when you nearly killedRenjun—”
Your voice cracks when you say his name, tears involuntarily welling up in your eyes.
“I want you to know that everything I did was for my family—”
You bark out a bitter laugh. “Stop. We’re not your family. We stopped being your family when you tried to slaughter us all.”
“I’ll always be your brother.”
Even though this Jaehyun is unrecognizable to you, one look into his eyes and you can tell that he truly believes that. That, in his own delusional way, he does care about you. However, one look into his eyes, and you know that he isn’t your brother. His eyes are void of any humanity, just two vortexes of nothingness.
A shell.
You think about Jaehyun, your brother, and how he smiled. How he laughed. How he joked. How he got frustrated. How he cried. How he lived.
“No,” you say softly, not even noticing that you’re speaking aloud, “you’re not Jaehyun.”
“No,” he whispers after a moment, seemingly coming to the realization himself. “I suppose I’m not. The Jaehyun you knew was weak. He cared, and it’s a weakness that I continue to carry with me.”
You’re not sure what to say to that. Were you supposed to be grateful?
“I came here to say goodbye to my brother, but it looks like he’s already left,” you state flatly, “So, I have nothing else to say to you.”
You turn to Renjun, nodding and allowing him to see the finality in your gaze. He keeps his expression neutral, but you can see how proudly his eyes beam at you.
“Wait,” Jaehyun calls out.
An enormous wave of dread washes over you.
“I want to speak to Renjun too. Alone.”
This is probably bad timing, but Renjun thinks your alarmed face is unreasonably adorable.
You’re staring up at him with wide, watery doe eyes and your expression is a fix of horror and fury as you process what Jaehyun just said. Renjun doesn’t even have time to utter a word before you’re marching straight up to Jaehyun, despite the fact that you were ready to bolt just a few minutes ago, and grabbing him by the collar like a stereotypical thug in a corny 90’s movie.
Again, bad timing, but it’s really cute.
“What kind of mind games are you trying to play?” you hiss, shaking Jaehyun. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you—”
“It’s not up to you, is it?” Jaehyun replies smoothly, completely unfazed.
You’ve never been a particularly violent person, but Renjun sees serious consideration of murder flash in your eyes, and he lunges forward to pull you away from Jaehyun in order to keep you from doing something you’ll regret.
He lifts you with one arm, twisting you away and shielding your vision of Jaehyun with his body. And because you’re stubborn and hotheaded (he loves you for it), you try to thrash out of his hold.
“Look at me,” Renjun says sternly, cupping your face with his hands. He waits until your expression is visibly relaxed before continuing, “It’s okay. I’ll speak with him.”
“But—”
“Go outside and chat with Cat. Get the gossip about Sicheng and Moon. I’ll be right out,” he continues gently.
“Renjun, you don’t understand. He’s going to—”
“Use his charmspeak on me,” he finishes your sentence. “I know.”
Charmspeak is an ability that allows the user to compel others to do their bidding with their voice, a power that only Aphrodite children are able to have. However, not all Aphrodite children have this ability, and even the select few that do are able to use it to drastically varying degrees of success. For example, you’re able to use charmspeak if you really put your mind to it, but you rarely do because you don’t like the way it makes you feel. Jeong Jaehyun, on the other hand, is the most powerful user at Camp Half-Blood.
Renjun saw the challenge in Jaehyun’s eyes the moment the two of you walked in.
Maybe he’s stubborn and hotheaded too, but he isn’t going to give Jaehyun the satisfaction of thinking he ran away. Just like you, Renjun is going to face him and his charmspeak head on.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” Renjun says, lacing his fingers through yours before placing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles.
“How can I not,” you mutter, but he can see that you’re relenting. “Please be careful.”
“I always am.”
You give him a pointed look before reluctantly trudging out of the cabin, glancing back at him one more time before shutting the door behind you.
Renjun swears that the air chills by ten degrees when they’re finally alone. The silence hangs heavily in the air as he turns back to Jaehyun.
“Afraid?” Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow.
“I am admittedly afraid of many things, but you are not one of them,” Renjun responds calmly.
He laughs. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions. Truthfully, please.”
Ah, there it is.
It feels like a fog is slowly settling over Renjun’s brain, and the sliver of rationality he has left is informing him that he’s becoming under the influence of Jaehyun’s charmspeak. His body starts to grow numb, like he’s floating. His eyes become misty and blurry, and he can’t see the expression on Jaehyun’s face anymore.
“Okay,” Renjun agrees. His voice sounds muffled, as if he’s underwater.
“Great. We’ll start with something easy,” Jaehyun suggests, “When did you fall in love with Y/N?”
He blinks at the unexpected question. Even in his daze, Renjun was bracing for something much more sinister.
“What? Did you think I was going to turn you into my evil minion or something?” Jaehyun laughs again, seemingly reading his mind.
“You can try your damn best,” he shoots back. Jaehyun’s charmspeak isn’t so overpowering that Renjun can’t still respond with his usual quips, and he’s pretty sure Jaehyun is keeping his control loose on purpose.
“Relax, I won’t,” Jaehyun asserts, “I just want to have an honest conversation with you.”
A conversation in which he has to use charmspeak on Renjun in order to pry answers out of him.
“I’ve been in love with her since we met,” Renjun finally responds. He would normally stop there, but he feels compelled to continue. Of course, that would be because of Jaehyun’s handiwork.
“I was enamored from the very start, when she barrelled into the Arts and Craft Center without a care in the world—more stunning than any goddess, with a smile so lovely that it would make any nymph green with jealousy. I had never seen anyone like her. She was like…a prophecy. Like a beautiful, fleeting prophecy that could slip through my fingers at any moment. A prophecy that someone like me could never dream of understanding, even if I spent the rest of my life chasing after it. From the moment I laid eyes on her, half of my soul belonged to her.”
He can’t really make out the expression on Jaehyun’s face, but the latter stays silent. A few moments pass before he speaks again, “What do you like about her?”
Renjun wants to laugh. Where does he even start?
“I don’t think there’s a thing I don’t like about her,” he chuckles. “I like the way her eyes sparkle when she’s up to no good. I like that she has to be in everyone’s business. I like how she has a short fuse and how cartoonishly her face puffs up when she’s mad. I like the way her nose crinkles when she sees carrots in her curry. I like the little skip in her step when she walks. I like how she bounces when she’s trying to contain her excitement. I like when she laughs so hard that she has to hold onto my arm to keep from falling backwards. I like that she loves so deeply, even towards people that don’t deserve it. I like that she lets herself feel things, even though she knows it’ll be painful sometimes. I like that she frustrates me to the point of wanting to scream at the top of Mount Olympus, and I like that only she can do that. I like that when she kisses me, I think about how I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”
Gods, Renjun didn’t realize how much of a sap he is. And of all people, he’s being forced to pour out his deepest, darkest feelings to Jaehyun.
“That sounds like a proposal,” Jaehyun teases. “Are you going to marry her?”
“Only if she wants to get married.”
“Do you have a ring?”
“No, I was…I was going to make it myself out of Adamantine,” Renjun explains, wishing that he wouldn’t. Adamantine, another precious metal that demigods typically use for weapons, is typically described as a mix between silver and diamond. “Since I gave her a painting when we first met, I thought it’d be nice to propose to her with something that I made as well.”
“You must really love her, huh,” Jaehyun states quietly.
“Is that even a question?” Renjun snaps, “I would do anything for her.”
“Hm,” Jaehyun muses, “would you admit that aliens don’t exist for her?”
Out of all the questions he’s asked so far, this is the one that makes Renjun hesitate the most.
“I wouldn’t have to because aliens are real,” Renjun says through gritted teeth.
“If she was being held over a volcano, and you had two options: admit aliens aren’t real or come up with evidence right then and there to save her life, what would you do?”
“Well, does this volcano have internet service or access to files from the Pentagon—”
“Answer the question, Renjun.”
“Yes,” he finally chokes out, “I would admit they didn’t exist. Or I’d just jump into the volcano myself.”
“You would die for her?” Jaehyun asks.
“Of course I would,” Renjun says immediately.
Jaehyun scoffs. “It’s easy to die for someone, so tell me this—”
Suddenly, Renjun feels an overwhelming amount of Jaehyun’s power wash over him. The relaxed hold that was over him before, allowing him to still have some semblance of free thought, has been ripped away. It’s as if the charmspeak has materialized into an invisible force that is physically holding him down, slowly crushing him and only promising to ease up if he answers the next question truthfully.
“Would you destroy the world for her?”
The whole world seems a bit like an exaggeration, but Renjun can feel that Jaehyun means it. The world, everyone he loves, Camp Half-Blood, would he destroy it all for you?
“Yes,” Renjun whispers, the answer slipping out with an ease that unsettles him to his core. An answer that has seemingly always been there. “If she asked me to. I would do it without hesitation.”
There is a long, dragged out silence.
But then, all at once, like he was being dragged out from the bottom of a deep, deep ocean, Renjun’s head clears instantly. The fog that lingered over his mind, the numbness of his body, the cloudiness that obscured his vision all disappear in a matter of seconds.
Renjun has never felt this disoriented, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to recall what just happened—his conversation with Jaehyun already fading from his memory like a Polaroid developing in reverse. All he’s left with are his jumbled emotions and trembling hands.
When he looks at Jaehyun again, he’s astonished at what he sees.
Not a demigod, not a warrior, not a traitor.
Jaehyun, despite being imprisoned and chained, has never looked more human. There’s a light in his eyes that flicker, like the last wisps of a dying candle. He smiles, which makes his lips crack. It’s a haunting sight that Renjun doesn’t think he can ever forget.
An older brother, on his deathbed.
“Please take care of her.”
You throw yourself into Renjun’s arms the moment he stops out of the Hades Cabin. Burying your face into his shoulder, you cling onto him. He delves his hand into your hair, cradling your head against him as he inhales the smell of your shampoo. Your arms tighten around his torso.
“Are you okay?” you ask, voice muffled against his shirt. “He didn’t hurt you, right?”
“No, I’m fine. Are you okay?” He curls a finger underneath your chin and nudges your face upwards to look at him. He can tell by your bloodshot eyes and wobbly lip that you had cried and are currently fighting tears.
“Stop worrying about me,” you sniffle, “I’m asking you. What did he say to you?”
“Not much,” Renjun answers vaguely, “He just told me to take care of you.”
You laugh bitterly. “That’s rich, coming from him.”
Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, he turns you and starts guiding you toward the Dining Pavilion. “Probably his messed up way of acting like a protective older brother or something. Now, come on. I’m hungry.”
“Wha—you can’t just change the subject like that! I want to know exactly what he said to you!” you protest, though your feet subconsciously start walking.
“It truly was nothing,” he reiterates, “He really did just seem concerned about you.”
You start to sulk, and he has to fight to keep a straight face. However, it doesn’t last long because you start to get that twinkle in your eye.
“Sooo, did you, like, profess all the reasons you love me or something to prove that you’re worthy of being my boyfriend?” you ask, waggling your eyebrows.
“If I had anything to profess, then maybe I would’ve,” Renjun teases, rolling his eyes.
You gasp dramatically. “Huang Renjun, you are so not—”
He tugs your body flush against him, giving you the kiss that he had wanted to when the two of you were in your room earlier. He feels you smile against his lips as your arms come up to wrap themselves around his neck. When he pulls away, you give him another quick peck before bumping your nose against his, giggling.
He forgot to add that he loves it when the corners of your eyelids crinkle when you smile at him.
Renjun isn’t really sure if he’s doing the right thing by not telling you about Jaehyun’s last words and the way he looked. He just knows that it’ll shatter your heart in a way that you won’t ever be able to repair, and you’ll carry that guilt with you for the rest of your life. He doesn’t want you to remember Jeong Jaehyun as the fractured man he is, a hollow echo of what he once was.
He wants you to remember all of the happy moments.
So, when you look back, you remember your older brother Jaehyun.
He hopes that you’ll eventually be able to smile when you think of your brother rather than cry.
Renjun can only do that, hope and pray that you have nothing but happiness in your life because you, of all people, deserve that—
and maybe, if he’s lucky, you’ll allow him to dedicate his life to making you as happy as he can.
“Oh my gods!” you gasp, tugging on his arm so hard that his shoulder nearly hits you in the cheek. “Sooyoung’s girlfriend is Sana!”
Renjun blinks. “What?”
“Look over there!” you squeal, whipping out a pair of binoculars out of thin air. The pair that he’s pretty sure he tossed out already.
He glances over, seeing Sooyoung (daughter of Ares) and Sana (daughter of Iris) holding hands as they make their way to the Dining Pavilion as well. Turning back to you, he raises an eyebrow, saying, “You didn’t know?”
“What are you talking about? She said she wanted to keep it a secret back then!” you answer, confused.
“Yeah, but they were kind of obvious about it,” he says slowly, “They’re together allthe time. I thought you noticed.”
“Oh my gods,” you breathe, horrified, “First, I completely miss the whole love triangle situation with Moon and Sicheng. And now, I’m the last one to find out about Sooyoung and Sana. How have I fallen out of the loop so badly that even you know about couples before I do?”
Renjun opens his mouth to retort, but you continue speaking.
“That’s it. I have to get my groove back,” you declare, “It’s time that Camp Half-Blood’s official matchmaker makes her comeback.”
Without even waiting for his answer, you turn on your heel and march back to the Aphrodite Cabin, presumably to start drafting potential couples.
HI I WAS JUST INFORMED OF THIS TIKTOK BY USER @/haeseungs AND I JUST WANTED TO SAY THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY GOD??? the fact that someone liked demigods enough to make a whole tiktok about it makes me so ❤️ !!!!!!! i am so flattered and honored and i hope you know i watched your tiktok like 48399292 times just smiling like a moron also you are so stunning and please drop the skincare routine thank you queen ♀️
So you’re telling me baby Ryan Reynolds aka Adam on Adam Project is going to be our Percy Jackson? Well I’m definitely okay with it but he’s soooo baby
Maybe medieval people happened upon a T-Rex fossil and came to a relatively logical conclusion that dragons existed.
I’ve read a couple books on this actually, thats exactly what happened. Also cyclops are from looking at bones from a certain type of baby elephant. The giant note hole and tiny eyes made it look like a single eye.
Yep, can confirm! And what’s even funnier to me is that back in the dark ages, Greek people used to find a lot of prehistoric bear skeletons - and those look exactlylike human skeletons, except they’re like eight feet tall or something - so they naturally assumed those were the heroes of legend, and made armour and clothes for them and reburied them with the most splendid and sacred religious ceremonies they could think of? Fast forward five centuries, Athens’ all modern and rational, philosophers and scientists aren’t taking any shit from anyone - but the problem is, people will randomly find graves containing giant-ass warriors, so that’s something that can’t be explained away and yeah, demigods were a thing and yeah, they used to be eight feet tall and sorry I don’t make the rules.
Some scientists suspect that the origin of the cyclops myths came about because of elephant skulls, which are vaguely human in shape but with a honking big hole in the middle for the trunk but easily mistakable for an eye socket without any flesh
this is the first time i’ve ever seen an elephant skull outside an elephant and i don’t like it much
Lineup of some of my Merfolk OCs from my daughters of the sea project.
I was experiencing some art block when I drew this. I tried to get some inspiration from the “draw poses from pokemon trainer sprites” challenge. It helped.
This is a standalone post, and an abridgement of an original study of a particular kind of psychic energy field. If you find yourself or another person to be naturally capable of many of the things described here, please act as ethically as possible in everything you do. If you have any questions, feel free to ask us.
To preface my description of this kind of energy and its effects, it is important for me to discuss something which has been widely accepted by occultists and theologians for a long time. There are people alive on Earth who are born under the right celestial conditions (or to the right parents, or in other appropriate conditions) to gain permanent magical properties for their entire lives. This is not to say that each and every person subconsciously exerts magical influence over the world around them (I would argue that some people are born completely devoid of special magical affinities, though this does not mean they can’t effectively use magic), but rather, that some people are born under the right conditions, or to the right parents (incubi and succubi, for example) to manifest as human forms of non-human entities. This can easily be construed as one meaning of many mythological representations of intelligent creatures such as the Fae, Satyrs, Fauns, Imps, Goblins, and many others.
Aside from human manifestations of lesser immaterial beings such as those elementals mentioned above (which generally have very specific and small fields of influence), there are arguably some people who are demigods (a word which we will use to mean mortal half-gods). Demigods tend to be particularly capable of magic without necessarily having the need to consciously focus their energy (one might say that some order of reality voluntarily warps itself to suit a demigod’s needs), but some gain different benefits from their divine condition of being (for example, Heracles was not particularly magically-inclined, but his godlike strength did still afford him a lot of protection from magical and supernatural enemies). These are probably the same people who are called “Nephilim” in Judaism, as the gods of most pagan pantheons are the very same beings who are fallen Jewish angels, those who took human wives (beginning with the Martial Archangel Samael, the Satan who descended and took Lilith as his wife, ultimately causing them both to become demons).
And then, there are finally those people who are manifestations of gods themselves. These people are very uncommon, but we could consider Jesus Christ a good example of this who is widely acknowledged as such in modern western society. Jesus is specifically a manifestation of a Sun-god (it’s irrelevant which one, as we shouldn’t make too much effort to distinguish one Sun-god from another, in my opinion). Hermes Trismegistus (who, like Jesus Christ, is probably a highly-mythologized figure based on a much less-impressive real person) could be reasonably considered to be a human incarnation of Thoth or Mercury. Certainly, I could provide several more examples, but I feel like these are sufficient. One could say of these gods-incarnate that there are versions of them who manifest even to exert their influence in very small (even seemingly inconsequential) contexts, and exerting their influences only there. There is no reason why two different people in different locations and situations at the same time can’t be manifestations of the same god, but it is important to think very critically in your analysis if you suspect someone is of this particular nature. It’s probably never a good idea to tell a person they are or might be a god incarnate.
All of the aforementioned types of people are born with some degree of a radiant energy which surrounds them, and which profoundly affects most of the people who come into proximity with it. Although this energy doesn’t effect all people the same way (some people will react to it with hostility, others will consciously try not to be affected by it, and a few are simply unaffected by it), its most common tendency is to cause all those affected to adore the person who radiates this energy which for our purposes, will be dubbed “the Glamour.”
As opposed to archetypes (which are usually represented by the “normal human” characters in mythology), which a person can switch between as necessary in their lives, incarnations are much more absolute, meaning they must constitute the purest essence of a person, rather than just a situational role. People may take on charisma at various points depending on their archetypal role in a given situation, but those with the Glamour will have their magnetism before, during, and after.
People who have the Glamour often don’t have any idea why they’re so adored, and this adoration can be a source of irritation, annoyance, or even grave danger. They will find themselves badgered by others who want to be seen with them, want to learn the secrets to their “coolness,” want to be validated by them, or even who want to destroy them (this last kind of person being a power-hungry predator). Often, people with the Glamour will be subject to unwanted conversation from people who basically amount to “adoring fans” at nearly every turn, making many parts of life a game of social avoidance. Now I will speak at a little more length about the three aforementioned subdivisions of incarnate supernatural being, and I’ll discuss some of the difficulties their Glamours are likely to bring. As you read this, it’s important to keep in mind that none of these experiences define a person as one of these incarnations, and that there are many more factors that should be considered when trying to identify human forms as manifestations of such (which is not really the subject of this article).
It is especially true that elementals and genii are targeted by malicious magic-users (usually misaligned folk-magicians, high-magic sorcerers who completely lack morality, or witches of a particularly deranged lineage) very often. In this case, the assailant will often take the form of a sexual predator, especially if the elemental is here in the form of a young human, though this does not exempt adults of this nature from that danger. The reason elementals are so often targeted is unclear, but it seems to me like the assailants consciously or subconsciously know that people have forcibly manipulated and harnessed these kinds of powers since the dawn of human history, and they believe it will get them some significant material gain, social status, or at least a microcosmic sense of power. Unfortunately for the elemental, this story does not usually end well. However, it is possible for the elemental to survive and continue, and when they do, they often rise to magnificent social status (in human terms), while their adversaries are usually condemned by their own actions to a life of insignificance or misery.
Demigods are usually subject more to tests of direct violence, especially those involving grossly unfair odds. Those who are physically strong will usually survive by those means, while others will be forced to survive by whichever magical means they are given. Once again, though, we face the issue of knowledge. I can’t emphasize enough that the vast majority of the people we’re talking about have no idea that they’re using magical power, nor do they often know how to focus or control their own magical energy. This doesn’t mean they usually fall in the face of the obstacles that they face, but that they survive and overcome by what seem more like miracles than magic. We could argue that they are either, but because the demigod can learn to harness whatever powers they are born with, I consider those means to be magic.
Gods incarnate can take many, many forms, and the tests they face in human life are almost impossible to accurately quantify. Sun-gods usually have lives which contain many parallels to the life of Jesus Christ, or of Ra (the tragic but necessary surrender to death is vital, even if it is a metaphor). Someone who is Mercury incarnate could have any of a great many different life stories and still be accurately regarded as the same being, so identification of this kind of being takes careful analysis, and if you are trying to identify one, you should never jump to conclusions which you can’t support.
Now, we should further discuss the nature and potential of the Glamour itself. For several years now, I’ve observed and researched this type of psychic energy field. It’s one which is almost always acknowledged by occult scholars, though I have never seen it formally named, or addressed at length. I’ll introduce this idea with a related and slightly more well-known topic. Henry Cornelius Agrippa wrote of something witches can do to a person which he called “fascination.” This magical binding is described as something that effects people through their eyes. In particular, he speaks of the witch affecting men with this (of course, being assumed that the witch is a woman in this case, despite our modern understanding that this is certainly not the only case). Now, knowing that witches are not limited to one gender or another, we can assume that anyone who is attracted to the gender of the witch in question might be susceptible to this type of magic. It is important to keep in mind that witchcraft is a particular category of magic. I will eventually make a post which helps to draw a distinction between various types of magic, and that might give some of you some useful insight.
Cornelius Agrippa specifies that this fascination is brought about by a combination of two things. The first thing is the intent of the witch to so affect anyone susceptible. The second is a sanguine kind of “spiritual vapor” (which I believe he means metaphorically). So then, blood is the humor witches use to fascinate their targets. Ancient occultists acknowledged the fact that the humors weren’t intended to serve as the sole basis of medicine, but rather, as a symbolic guide for physicians (who were often astrologers, too). While we know that the metaphorical association for fascination is blood, and therefore a hot-moist quality, and the Air element, we see that this implies that fascination itself is a somewhat limited magical art.
Fascination is not exactly like the Glamour we’re talking about, and there are a few reasons why. Unlike the Glamour, the art of fascination requires intent in order to work correctly. It is specifically addressed in the Books of Occult Philosophy that in addition to this, direct eye contact between the witch and the target of this magic is essential. He goes on to say that witches are so powerful in this kind of act that even the gaze of the victim can become under their control (the Glamour appears to be capable of this, as well). Finally, he mentions a few additional supplements to this, which are various scents and perfumes to create different effects (again, all of which can be easily achieved by people with the Glamour). Finally, Cornelius Agrippa’s description of fascination strongly implies that it only works on people who are attracted to the witch’s gender. All of this distinguishes fascination from the type of energy field I’m researching, though the two are otherwise very similar in effect.
Because of what we’ve discussed above, we know that if a person has the Glamour, they are extremely well-equipped to gain great things in life, and to be recognized for their achievements. However, one’s equipment does not determine one’s profession. If you were to give a peasant a sword, could he help you much in battle? But if you were to take the time to teach the peasant all the subtleties and skills necessary in combat, and to strengthen his mind and soul, would he perhaps be of more help than before? In this sense, those with the Glamour don’t necessarily have the amount of control over others that they could. They may subconsciously exert some influence over everyone nearby, but the effects they have might be completely unintentional (and therefore unpredictable). However, we know that witches can fascinate a person with little more than eye-contact with intent, so why couldn’t a person gifted with a sort of divine charisma have an even more effective influence over others?
Here, it seems fitting for me to briefly discuss two people whose Glamours I have studied to a small extent. They are of Air and Earth elements, respectively, and I had noted that both of them have a fair level of conscious control over the effects they exert. I have researched numerous others, too, but this article will not be so exhaustive.
The first person whom I recognized to have the Glamour has described it to me as originating from behind her eyes. As per Cornelius Agrippa’s description of fascination, hers was certainly corresponding to the element of Air, meaning that is is likely a sanguine Glamour as well. It was described to me not as a consciously-learned skill, but a slowly acquired mastery over that field of energy which she has always produced. To simplify what she said, I would say that I believe her Glamour functions as a “psychological climate control” to those around her.
A second person whom I studied spoke of a Glamour of the Earth element, which is therefore cold-dry, and melancholic. He said his Glamour largely influences the spatial-cognitive conditions around him, and the force originates in his abdomen. For an example of his influence, he said he has a significant level of control over the gazes of those around him, and that he can usually consciously influence people to look a certain direction or vice-versa. In addition, he said he regularly exerts some influence over people and their physical positions, consistently compelling them to reposition themselves according to his desires. He also reports that in certain situations, using his eyes in the same way as a witch does in the practice of fascination is an extremely helpful skill for augmenting and directing the Glamour.
It is relevant to speak of people who are immune to the Glamour (or at least, who react to it differently than someone with Glamour might intend). Some people have learned their immunity to it, and generally, these people are also bitter and without imagination, though perhaps more intelligent than average (intelligence more often manifests as self-control and self-awareness than it does as analytical skills or logic). Unfortunately, many of those who have learned immunity to it can still recognize it, and react with hostility to those who do have the Glamour. More often than not, a person will have learned immunity to one form of the Glamour (often because a former lover of theirs had a particular Glamour, and they despise it when they recognize it in others), and not others.
There are also those who have complete natural immunity to the Glamour. These people are often completely oblivious to it, and are unable to identify it directly. If this kind of person learns to identify the Glamour, it’s usually because they have determined how other people react to it, rather than how to perceive Glamour itself.
The last thing I should discuss is a trend I’ve noted among some particularly novice magic-users who don’t seem interested enough in their pursuit of these arts to learn how to cast anything of use. Instead of taking the time to learn fascination or similar arts (which are completely within the reach of anyone who takes the time and effort to study and practice them), they will often attempt to manufacture for themselves a Glamour. While humorous to observe from a distance, it isn’t something worth attempting. If you don’t have a Glamour to sharpen, you probably don’t need one. I’d like to reiterate here that all the people I’ve studied who do have Glamours were plagued by that trait for decades. Most people I’ve seen try to artificially create Glamours for themselves have just ended up making mockeries of themselves, but one other has brought a plague of unwanted company into his life through the act, ultimately resulting in fairly extreme misfortunes involving the police (I admit his magic was significantly more effective, but it was clearly not worthwhile). If anyone ever safely succeeds at this, I would love to know more, so I can study and experiment with it, myself. Admittedly, the only ever people I’ve seen believe this pursuit is worthwhile were people I would describe as horrible magic-users (again, perhaps because serious students of the occult know the art of fascination and its purpose).
To summarize, human incarnations of immortal beings are naturally capable of a form of mind-control which I refer to as “the Glamour.” If someone so-gifted becomes skilled enough with their Glamour, it can be used to influence nearly anyone in a consistent and fairly-controlled manner. There are different specific manifestations of this mind-control energy, and the people gifted with it influence people in close proximity to them whether they are aware of their Glamour or not. Some people are immune to it, others react aggressively toward it. Some people (myself included) have learned to observe it, and try not to interact with it one way or another. Hopefully this post has given you some insight into the mechanics of this characteristic of some mythical beings, and will allow you to more readily recognize it and other energies when they affect you. If you can learn to protect yourself from such subtle psychic influences as these, you can gain a much greater level of control over your life. As always, thank you for reading.
