#drabble series
Status:Ongoing
Summary: The daughter of a traitor, you find yourself vulnerable to the king’s wiles. (Thomas Shelby, Medieval AU)
“Of course, in your final moments of life, only he would occupy your thoughts.”
[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]
genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au
word count: 1.1k
rating:pg-13
warnings: language, near-death experience, vulnerability
a/n: oof. sorry this chapter took so long to get out. hope you all enjoy it anyway! xoxo
the fifth summer – in which he saves you
For as long as you can remember, you’ve never been too fond of water.
The first time you stepped foot into a big body of water—also known as, the community pool a few blocks away from your childhood home—you cried. For some reason, a lot of water terrified you. You tried taking lessons once, but your instructor couldn’t even get you to step within five feet of the pool.
And your father never forced you to go back.
Over the years, you’ve tried to lessen the fear. And for the most part, you’re not scared of water anymore. You can sit in pools and be on the beach just fine. The only thing is, you still haven’t learned how to swim.
It’s like your body is just incapable of doing so.
There are only a select number of people who know you can’t swim—Namjoon and Haru, to name a few. Which is why they tried to talk you out of doing the canoe races. The weather is always unpredictable, as you never know what the gods are bickering about. And your friends were right: something bad was bound to happen, which is why you should’ve listened to them earlier.
But your stupid ego always seems to be in the way.
As you sink further down into the depth of the water, fear and anxiety begin to fill your veins. Is this really how you’re going to die? Being a demigod means life isn’t certain because danger always lurks in the smallest of places; however, drowning has never been on your list of possible causes.
What a way to out of this world, y/n.
You could already see Charon waiting for you on that boat of his, ready to take you across the river and into the Underworld. A part of you wondered if he’d laugh at you—laugh at the pitiful way you died. Then again, you’ve heard enough stories to know his expression always remained stoic.
Maybe you’ll even end up in Elysium, though you’re not sure you’ve done enough good in the world to deserve a place there. All you’ve been concerned with these last few years is how to get Jeongguk back.
Jeongguk.
Of course, in your final moments of life, only he would occupy your thoughts. How rude and inconsiderate of him. You should be thinking about your sweet friends or your father—but no, the only thing you can see is Jeon Jeongguk’s stupid face in your mind.
Still, you do find it a bit ironic now; you’re terrified of water—literally drowning at the moment—and he’s the son of the sea god.
Life sure does work in mysterious ways.
***
Jeongguk’s POV
All the screaming makes him turn around.
Jeongguk takes a glance behind him, where Athena’s canoe wades only a few feet away. Most demigods feared weather like this—the wild winds and restless waters only promised destruction. But it doesn’t bother him.
This is his father’s domain and Jeongguk feels at ease.
Until he counts the members of Athena’s canoe and realizes that one person is missing—more specifically, you. For the first time in a while, he actually feels his chest tighten in fear. Where did you go? There isn’t anywhere to go—not for miles. Except—
“Oh my god, she can’t swim!”
One of the younger campers on your canoe screams this, and Jeongguk feels something hot settle in his stomach. Without a second thought, he dives into the water.
It doesn’t take him long to spot you, and it seems your half-sibling was right—you really can’t swim. As odd as that sounds to his ears, he swims to you anyway. At the sight of your closed eyes and limp body, a weird sensation tugs at his heart. Why do you have to look so damn vulnerable right now?
Jeongguk realizes then that he’d rather take your fire—the way you’re always challenging him and the anger you possessed—over this frail girl any day.
He wraps his arms around your frame easily, pulling you back to the surface without much difficulty. Lifting you into the canoe, he watches as your half-siblings rush to you. After they take one look at your pale complexion, one bursts into tears while the others rush to perform CPR.
For once, Jeongguk feels useless as he moves back into his own canoe that has pulled up beside Athena’s.
“That was impressive.”
Turning, Jeongguk notices another canoe has pulled up—probably wondering what all the commotion was. His eyes settle on the voice, and he tries not to roll his eyes. But when it concerns the son of Hades, he often cannot help himself.
“Don’t start getting any ideas, Min,” he scowls.
Yoongi has the audacity to smirk. “You said it, not me.”
“I did what any person would do.” Jeongguk doesn’t know why he’s being so defensive. He’s never this defensive.
“Right,” Yoongi hums. “Because saving your sworn rival is totally normal.”
Jeongguk wants nothing more than to rub that stupid look on Yoongi’s face away. Just because he is amicable with the son of Hades—a fellow demigod of the Big Three, and therefore someone he could relate to—it doesn’t mean he isn’t opposed to inflicting a hint of damage. Though, before he can do such a thing, there’s a coughing fit coming from Athena’s cabin.
Relieffills him at the sight of you coughing up water. That’s a good sign. You’re going to be okay.
“Let’s get her to the infirmary,” someone says, and Jeongguk watches as your cabin rushes back to shore.
The rest of the canoes soon follow; even though the weather is starting to clear up, and the winds aren’t as brisk anymore, there’s no point in continuing the races now. Not after what everyone just witnessed.
Once they’re back on shore, Jeongguk jumps out of the canoe and his feet seem to move on their own accord—towards the Big House. Towards the infirmary. What? He shakes his head and decides to go in the opposite direction.
“I saw that slight hesitation, Jeon.”
Jeongguk looks behind him, where Yoongi casually gives him a look. He realizes that Yoongi really seems to be getting a kick out of tormenting him today.
“You saw nothing,” he says, turning back around and towards the cabins instead.
Yoongi moves to match his pace, and Jeongguk looks down at the boy donned in all-black. He has no clue why the dress code doesn’t apply to the son of Hades. “Keep telling yourself that. Denial is normal.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Yoongi laughs. “I guess we’ll just have to see how this unfolds, don’t we?”
“Her hair is as dark as ebony and her eyes—her eyes reveal a storm, much like your own.”
[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]
genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au
word count:1.2k
rating:pg-13
warnings: vulnerability, some sweet moments, mommy issues?!
a/n: wow. i havent been active or written on tumblr in so long i cant even remember how to properly format shit omg. anyway, hello friends! this year has been absolutely crazy, and so much has changed in my life, but long story short: ya girl finally caught feelings. and ive been too busy entertaining my boyfriend to properly write. eeeekkk omg i have a whole ass mans wtf. so…yeah…here is the much belated next installment to this drabble series! hope you enjoy. i love this chapter so much. xoxo
the fifth summer – in which you meet her
One of the things you’ve always hated about being a demigod is that dreams are often a direct reflection of reality or an illusion caused by Phantasos, so it’s difficult to tell what’s the truth. Though in this case, you might already be dead.
“You are not dead.”
The voice is smooth like honey, yet stern and powerful all at once. Never have you heard this voice before, but you feel…comforted. Safe. Things you usually don’t ever feel as a demigod since monsters are always lurking. But at this moment, you feel yourself relaxing—letting go of your worries.
In the vacant space that was before you moments ago is now a beautiful woman. The finest silk is draped across her body, accentuating her feminine curves. Beads of gold and precious jewels adorn her wrists and fingers. Her hair is as dark as ebony and her eyes—her eyes reveal a storm, much like your own.
“Athena,” you breathe, recognizing her immediately.
Like any other demigod, you’ve always imagined what it would be like to meet your godly parent. Most of the kids at camp have never had any sort of direct interaction with the gods, besides being officially claimed. You’ve always heard that the gods are too busy, though maybe it’s just because they have too many children to keep up with.
You have only ever felt your mother—through signs—when in danger. So, finally seeing her and directly hearing her voice placates you.
The goddess of wisdom and battle strategy takes a step closer to you, and the act seems to knock the wind out of your lungs. Your senses are filled with the aroma of olives and nectar; it’s almost too much. Just when you think you’re going to succumb to these sensations, one sharp look from Athena pacifies you.
“Calm yourself, child,” she seems to chastise, like an actual mother would do. “I thought I created you better than this.”
You’re at a loss for words. “Did I do something wrong? I just—I’m shocked to see you…”
At the trail of your words, Athena can tell that you’re holding back. For just a moment, her eyes soften in the slightest. “I know I am not the most involved in your life”—an understatement of the century, you think— “but I am proud to be your mother.”
“Really?” You feel like a child seeking approval.
“Just because I do not always intervene in your life, it does not mean I am not watching over you,” she says. “I always have, my dear.”
Warmth pools in your stomach at her genuine disposition. “Thank you…mom.”
A soft grin lights Athena’s face, and you see the curve of your own smile in hers. You try to encase this moment in your mind; you don’t want to forget a single bit of it. Her smile, the way she smells, how her hair is pinned up—you want to remember it all.
“So, why are you here now?” you can’t help but wonder.
“Physically, I am not with you,” she admits, “because you are not awake.”
“You said I didn’t die…” in the water.
Athena nods. “Yes, you are very much alive. Just asleep. I came here to tell you to wake up.”
“And how do I do that?”
“That I cannot help you with,” she sighs. “It is something you must do on your own. However, I think, perhaps, finding something of motivation should do the trick.”
Motivation? Was waking up not motivating enough? Why did this have to be so difficult? As you think of a possible valid reason to wake up, you lock eyes with your mother. How strange that you have the same eyes as her.
“I believe you know what motivates you,” her eyes twinkle for a second, and you would’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. “Think a little deeper, dear. I am sure something will spring to mind.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you deadpan.
“I think you do. In fact, I am almost positive it is wading through your mind at this very moment.”
“Mom.”
“Daughter.”
You blink. “Are you being serious right now?”
“I think that Jeon boy is rather interesting, would you agree?”
You release a breath. “The son of Poseidon? I thought you hated the sea god.”
Athena’s brows furrow. “I do—that rivalry has withstood ages. Poseidon is a pompous idiot, and I will stand by that statement until the end of my immortality. However, I do have to admit I sometimes do not hate his offspring.”
“I don’t like Jeon Jeongguk.”
“I never said you did,” the goddess nearly laughs, and you freeze.
You feel heat rise up your chest and spread across your face. “I didn’t mean it likethat.”
“Of course not, dear,” Athena muses, clearly struggling to keep a smile off her face.
“He annoys me, mother,” you sigh, attempting to move past your momentary lapse of character. “Like a literal thorn in my side.”
“All I am going to say is, I have been watching you these last few summers. And I have never seen anyone exude as much passion as you have when it comes to that boy,” she says. “Remember, love and hate are two sides of the same coin.”
You roll your eyes. “There is no such thing as love between Jeongguk and I. It is all hate.”
Athena gives you a knowing look, but she doesn’t tease you again. Instead, she takes another step closer to you—mere inches away now—and brings a hand up to brush your hair behind your ear. For a second, her stormy eyes become a kaleidoscope of colors; as if every emotion is passing across. Colors you’ve never seen make an appearance and you try to take them all in—swearing you’ll never forget a single one.
“Wake up, okay? I will see you soon.”
As the last word slips past her lips, the image of your mother begins to fade. Almost foolishly, you reach a hand out to stop the disintegration. But with a blink, she’s gone and you’re all alone again.
Only now, the emptiness of the space begins to suck you in. And you allow it; you allow the darkness to devour you. Maybe the fates have decided to pluck your string for real this time. Still, your mother’s words ring in the back of your mind.
Motivation.
You think hard about what motivates you. For one, your father—he motivates you; though, not necessarily anymore since you’re focused on camp. That’s another thing—your cabin; they motivate you to be a great leader, though you don’t necessarily do it for their approval. So, what really motivates you then?
Almost shamelessly, you know what your greatest motivation of all is—the person who has pushed you, indirectly and nearly accidentally, to do everything you’ve done for the last five summers. The person you have wanted to surpass. The person who irritates you to no end, yet you can’t seem to escape.
Your mother was right, but you don’t want to admit it—not even to yourself.
This is so silly, you can’t help but think. I can barely tolerate him…why is he always the root of all my problems? Though, I guess being a pain in the ass does result in a good source of motivation.
Suddenly, the darkness around you begins to crumble, and brightness fills your senses. The light is warm, and you feel yourself being transported.
Then, your eyes open
⊳Pairing: Yoongi x reader (any gender/AFAB)
⊳Rating: 18+
⊳Genre: drabble series. slow burn friends to something. roommates!au.
⊳ Word count: 900
⊳ Warnings (more will be added): reader and Yoongi are both in their early 30s, everyone is queer, fuck capitalism, fuck gender, this fic contains product placement, alcohol consumption (probably a lot of it), a little light vore-related humor, masturbation, golly I sure hope Disney doesn’t sue me, weird dick energy, ???, off-screen minor character death (referenced)
⊳Summary: facing an uncertain future, you and an old friend take off for a trip into the relative wilderness
⊳A/N:huge thanks to @wwilloww for listening to me yap about this fic for well over a year and to @miscelunaaa for beta reading.
“Fuck it. Let’s leave tomorrow.”
That’s all it takes for you to shove a couple changes of clothes into your backpack, clear out your fridge, throw a bunch of snacks from the pantry into a laundry basket, and drive over to Yoongi’s house. When you show up on his porch he’s clearly about to go to bed, dressed in faded flannel pajama pants and an even more faded tee-shirt, but he pulls you in and the two of you hang out on his couch and stay up far too late, sipping his stupid expensive whisky and moaning about the hangovers you’ll inevitably have.
It’s quiet. Peaceful, in a way that gives you a lot of hope for what the road will be like. Neither one of you feels the need to fill the silence the entire time.
He breaks it, briefly, to utter a few curses about his now-former co-workers. You, in turn, provide a few choice words about your ex. His cruelty, his stupid obsession with how you dressed, his request that you not spend too much time with your former roommate.
It’s been a decade since you and Yoongi shared an apartment in college, taking advantage of opposing schedules and a mutual love of solitude to break out of the chaos of campus housing. The Dean of Housing obviously hadn’t believed you when you told her that the two of you were engaged, but signed the form anyway since it helped her free up space for incoming exchange students. You’d split household tasks in a way that had felt far too domestic: he did the cooking and you washed the dishes, you did the laundry and he mopped the floors. He’d joked that the two of you should set up a joint bank account so rent would always be paid on time, knowing that you were scraping by on two part-time jobs while he had the advantage of a supportive family with the means to help out when his occasional gigs left him short on his half. That was where you drew the line, too proud to accept help even though it meant floating checks that would definitely have bounced if your landlord had cashed them on time.
Ten years is a long time for change to set in, though. First distance separated you, then circumstances. When your ex had gotten a job in the city and asked you to move with him, the thought of getting to reconnect with Yoongi sweetened the deal. It wasn’t until you found yourself alone, unemployed, and unable to turn to one of your oldest friends that you realized how much the relationship had soured.
You had kicked him out a month ago. (He was fine. He found a better apartment with some junior partners from the firm so he could talk shop at home as much as he liked.) You had shown up uninvited at Yoongi’s place — a homey duplex with white shutters and a tiny herb garden— after driving circles, sobbing, when your GPS didn’t recognize his street. It was the first time you’d seen it in spite of living in the same city for four months, not worth the risk of your ex’s ire. Since then you’ve been more or less a permanent fixture on his couch, enjoying the space devoid of memories of happier times with your ex, feeling welcome and wanted for the first time in a while.
Your ex was fine, and that irritated the piss out of you. There were two weeks left on your lease and you couldn’t afford to renew it alone. You didn’t know anyone looking for a roommate, let alone one without a paycheck who mostly just cried a lot and asked aloud “Did I fuck up? Was it really that bad?”
And then Yoongi had gotten fired. Downsized. “The economy” was the line he got but at the end of the day it still meant no job. So he had called you and announced in his usual terse way that the long-discussed but never actually planned cross-country trip was happening.
Now you make yourself comfortable under one of the fuzzy blankets he keeps on the couch (you’ll sleep under it later) and tuck your feet up under you as he calls his uncle to make sure the insurance on the Teardrop is current and to confirm that it’s okay for him to use it.
His voice is a little slurred from the whisky, but his uncle’s on the other end is just as slurred with sleep when he reminds Yoongi that he won’t be using it any time soon since he’s recovering from surgery. (He hasn’t used it in five years anyway. It’s Yoongi’s trailer in all but name.)
“All set,” he announces with a yawn.
“Go to bed, old man,” you joke.
“Nah, I’mma stay here.”
You give him a shove. “Bed. You know you’ll miss it on the road.”
He grumbles, but gets up. “Need anything?” he asks, the implication that you’ll be staying on the couch clear as day.
“I’m good. Mind if I plug in my charger?”
“I’m not charging you by the kilowatt.”
“Okay, then.”
He ambles off to his bedroom (you’ve still never seen it) and you grab a glass of water and set it on the floor next to the couch, hoping that slightly-less-tipsy future-you will wake up and chug it at some point in the night.
