Half-Bloods

Half-Bloods

P.J.&The Olympians X BTS AU!

Cabin 7

Park Jimin ~ Son of Apollo

Incredibly timid at first glance

Nobody believed he was an Apollo kid at first

Not as immediately extroverted as his siblings, thus the confusion

Get to know him though, and he really is a chip off the old block

Flamboyant and charming as hell

Everyone loves him (key word: EVERYONE)

Actually mistaken for an Aphrodite kid more than once

Some campers still don’t believe him

One word to describe him: Grace

Nimble, swift, elegant- on and off the field

It’s like his bow is an extension of himself

Watching him train is like watching art come to life

Forces his friends to come to weekly karaoke night at the pavilion

Natural born performer; voice of an angel

Sweetest little thing ever; the greatest friend

THRIVES on compliments

Always there to lend a helping hand

Soft bean but back him into a corner or threaten those he loves?

Instant kill mode: Activated

Most swoon-worthy; camp-wide crush

Release Date: TBD

-Moodboards mine, pics not

Pics not mine, Moodboards are

BTS Burlesque!Au

CostumeDesigner!Jimin

“I swear to God there are not enough sequins to cover up that hot mess, but don’t worry, I made a back up for you, so you can just go on for her. Now get changed before I take your place!”

Lively and spirited, Jimin has always had an eye for creating the most beautiful works of art in clothing since, well, forever. When he found out his cousin Jin had a Burlesque bar, he pretty much gave himself the costume job. He can make friends with anyone and adds some sarcastic and dramatic flare behind the scenes. He’s also pretty great at giving advice. But don’t let his job fool you, he can work the stage just as well as any other dancer. It’s hard not to love him!

P.J.&The Olympians X BTS AU!

Genre: Mythology, Fluff, Angst

Warning(s): mentions of death, violence, adult language

Pairing(s): ???XReader

Status: ON HOLD

PROLOGUE

Camp Half-Blood, famous training grounds of Greek demigods far and wide. Once home to the Son of Poseidon, you may have heard of him, he’s still a pretty big deal around here. It’s said to be the safest place for demigod children of the Ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses, and it’s a pretty interesting place to be. I mean, it’s not like I have any other choice, I’ve been here since my dad died, and that was 6 years ago.

Like many others before me, however, I’ve made it my home. A weird kind of home where Chiron is constantly yelling at the ‘rebellious youths’ and Mr. D couldn’t really give a care, oh, and we sword fight for fun, but a home nonetheless. Being the only one in Cabin 20 over the year can be kind of lonely; my siblings all go home at the end of summer, but the lonely lifestyle is one I, as a daughter of Hecate, have come quite accustomed to. I guess I have Aster, my familiar to talk to, but I don’t think a sarcastic black cat is the best company for a 22 year old. And you may be thinking, “Why don’t you leave camp and start your own life?,” and to that I say...this is all I’ve ever really known.

Before my dad passed, I’d come to camp every summer. I met my siblings my second one. Hecate kids are hard to come by apparently, but I’m glad they showed up. See, a lot of the cabins have a sort of prejudice against other cabins. The Hades cabin, for example, though uninhabited, is constantly scorned under bated breath. My cabin falls under the same sort of scrutiny. It all comes down to fear in the end. My siblings and I posses magical abilities like our mother and that power is what intimidates and scares other campers. So, instead of trying to get to know us, they shut us out. Can’t say I’m not surprised, though. In high school, the ‘weirdos’ were always outcast, why should a camp full of demigods be any different?

The stares and whispers, unnerving at first, are now just a tolerable nuisance. I live my life here the best way I can, and if that means having my cat as my only friend, then so be it. Besides, I’ve got my plate full with training anyways. Between combat, lessons, and individual magic studies, I don’t have the time for friends as it seems. After all, I’ve got to make Mom and Dad proud.

Well, I’d write more, but there really isn’t all that much left to say. Besides, Chiron asked me to help him hang the ‘Welcome’ banners for the start of the summer, and if I keep him waiting any longer, he might demote me from favorite. I know this isn’t going to be seen by anyone and now that I’ve cleared that up I feel kind of dumb writing this all in the first place. Oh well.

...

P.S. I don’t know if it’s ‘witch’s’ intuition or just me being a little paranoid, but I feel like something big is going to happen this summer. I’m not quite sure what, I’m still working on my premonition skills, but it feels almost life changing, if that makes any sense. I think, well, I hope, it’s something wonderful, but who really knows. Guess I’ll have to wait and see...

To Be Continued...

This is a new fanfic idea I’ve been mulling over in my head for a while now. I don’t know how many chapters it will be yet, or what the posting schedule will look like, because as of right now I’m just kind of winging it and taking my time. If I figure out some type of schedule I’ll post it and link it in this prologue and my Master List. If anyone wants, I can try a tag list, just let me know. I hope you all enjoy this and don’t get too annoyed with my lack of organization. I promise I will keep up with this story to the best of my abilities. Please reblog and show this some love if you can, it means a lot to me. Thank you guys!

-Moonie🌙

Half-Bloods

P.J.&The Olympians X BTS AU!

Cabin 17

Jeon Jungkook ~ Son of Nike

Competitive af

Lives for a good challenge

Constantly trying to prove himself to everyone

Tries on more than one occasion to challenge the entire camp

Chiron quickly shuts that down

Known to get in quite a few tiffs with the Ares and Athena kids

They love to push his buttons and set him off

Will not be seen as anything other than #1

Champion of capture the flag

Strong enforcer of fair play; cheating of any kind is NOT tolerated

Can be intense sometimes; he’s just so passionate in everything he does

Everyone is both intrigued and intimidated by him

Good heart

You either love him or hate him, no in between

Bold and charismatic, but not cocky

Do not get on his bad side or risk a old west-reminiscent style showdown

Loves pulling pranks with his best friend Tae

Always pushing himself to do and be better

Release Date: TBD

-Moodboards mine, pics not

-Moodboard mine, pics not

BTS Pokémon!Au

Trainer!Hoseok

Partner Pokémon: Squirtle

Squirtle (Tiny Turtle Pokémon)

TYPE: Water

EGG GROUP: Water/Monster

POKÉDEX COLOR: Blue

This Tiny Turtle Pokémon draws its long neck into its shell to launch incredible water attacks with amazing range and accuracy. The blasts can be quite powerful. During battle, Squirtle hides in its shell that sprays water at its opponent whenever it can. It can withdraw into the shell for protection or to sleep. The grooved, rounded shape helps to reduce water resistance when this Pokémon swims. Squirtle can spray foamy water from its mouth with great accuracy.

-info from Pokédex and bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net

ᾰ̓γᾰ́πη

Pairing(s): Cursed!Seokjin x Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy Au, Fluff, Soulmate Au

Summary: “There’s a story whispered around here. One surrounding the beautifully carved statue of a man at the center of the town. Legend says that when the hand of his true love graces his palm, he shall wake from his cursed marbled slumber. It’s always been a silly old wives tale, until you give in to a friend’s dare.” (prompt idea from writing-prompt-s)

Warning(s): mild language

Word Count: 1.8K

Part I, Part 2, Part 3, ...

taglist: @best-space-boy @maryelixabeth @mochimaw @yeontanismypresident @hannahantonette17 @ign-is @fanfuckingfic @koala-wonderland @suchgayaesthetic​ @dulcaet​

~ if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, feel free to send me an ask! thank you💜

The statue was no doubt beautiful. At times, it looked as if it truly was just an incredibly pale living man standing still, transfixed by something the naked eye could not see. Stories, old wives tales, the likes, manifested around it, creeping their way into the homes of every person ‘lucky’ enough to dwell within the town. They graced the tongues of parents at each late night bedtime story to their children, snuck into the early morning gossip of elderly women topping off tea cups, and laid dreamily in the back of every young girl’s mind, each one hoping to be the key to end the curse.

Growing up in this small town, it was hard to ignore the incessant buzz surrounding the terrifyingly detailed slab of marble. However, the challenge intrigued you, spurring you on at a young age to scorn those of ‘childish’-enough mind to ever believe in such nonsense as the ‘Story of the Statue.’ How ridiculous could one be to believe that the statue was once a man, and that the only way to return him to his ‘true form’ was the hand of his ‘one true love?’

If one should believe in such a thing as a living hunk of rock, it would make just as much sense to one day find half the townspeople deep in conversation with their hairbrushes.

Insane is a good way to describe it.

Completely and utterly bonkers another.

Much to your dismay, however, the entire town seemed to believe the exact opposite. Placing your hand upon the statue’s at midday became a reveled ritual for the townspeople. Men and women alike took their chance to entertain the mystery; to indulge in their deepest fantasy of being a part of the magic.

It was this 180 of belief from yours that ended in your own scrutiny. Instead of the ‘magical statue’ being the center of ridicule, it most often times was you. You couldn’t count on your fingers and toes combined the number of times you’d heard your name amongst the petty laughter of your neighbors, or caught the wicked smirks of the other girls your age as they hushed their voices as to be ‘undetected.’

It was painfully obvious that your reluctance to accept what has always been a town tradition made you an outcast amongst them all. The only friend you’d had to stick around being the quiet girl in the house neighboring yours.

In all honesty, she was quite drab at times, most of her vocabulary consisting of the words ‘soulmate,’ ‘statue,’ and ‘magic.’ Yes, she was just as deep into the mess of it all as everyone else, it seemed. As much as it pained you to sit through her lengthy airs on how romantic the whole situation was, that she’d do anything to be the soulmate the man was waiting for, she was the only one that had stuck around to entertain your rants.

Maybe her head was so far in the clouds your negative words never truly reached past the tips of her ears, but you were nonetheless grateful to have someone to at least pretend to listen, and she never made you feel any less-than for having differing opinions. Though, it didn’t stop her from picking fun every now and then, claiming that there must be a small part of you that was even slightly curious.

Her efforts to bring forth the inner-believer in you is what led to the present moment you find yourself in.

The face of utter disgust mixed with slight terror must have looked quite an odd combination for someone about to do the most mundane of things one could do in this particular town. It was as normal as walking your dog, or fetching the mail, yet this was a spectacle most could agree on as being anything but.

The nervousness could not be helped, no matter how desperately you tried to remind yourself that this was nonsense.

An intense burning sensation was the only thing your tingling form could truly comprehend, the eyes of nosy day-goers relishing in the sight of the known town hypocrite about to suddenly go against her beliefs. If anything, you seemed to attract an entire crowd, as if you were the main act in a thrilling road show that would come and go so quickly, the people rushed to witness it before it was gone.

A shooting star, a comet across the night sky, or an eclipse perhaps.

‘Get ahold of yourself,’ you thought, wiping your increasingly sweaty palms across the denim of your jeans.

‘It’s just a silly story, all you have to do is touch it,’ your mind reminded you. The more stares you garnered, the whispers becoming a loud buzz in your ears fighting above the rush of blood pounding through, the more your confidence seemed to crumble.

A tiny speck of a part of you wormed its way up through the depths of your being to call out to the reasonable part of your brain ‘what if it’s true?’

In the unbelievable off-chance that you were wrong, could you deal with the backlash of standing so firmly against it?

As you felt the warm push from the instigator of this whole affair, her face adorned with a slightly amused smirk, you realized that even if this whole story is true, there was no way in the universe that you would ever be the soulmate the story talks about.

Your experience with men is virtually nonexistent. The last time you’d indulged in the whirlwind of possible ‘romance’ had been when your middle school crush had kissed you quickly on the lips after school on a dare, promptly gagging afterwards and swearing to the high heavens that ‘girls are gross.’

Maybe you were traumatized from the whole experience, never mind the fact that the men of your town just weren’t vying for the attention of the town laughingstock, but romantic relationships just weren’t a part of your story.

It didn’t really matter much to you anyways, considering all the eligible men are, have been, and always will be, meager farm boys living off what their ancestors have laid down for them. Not that there was anything innately wrong with that way of life, it just wasn’t what you wanted for yourself and your future.

You have big plans, ones that include getting as far away from this place as possible, and no man was going to get in the way of that.

You’d rather die a painful, lengthy death than be a little hometown wife the rest of your life, reduced to nothing more than mindless cleaning, cooking, and birthing children. To be the ‘property’ of some man that could never understand your true potential; your true worth.

So, despite the twinge of fear lacing the edges of your mind, creating a rigidness in your limbs as you crossed the dirt path to the statue, you rose to the occasion, in a sense.

Maybe this would lay to rest the constant chatter of snobby folk, let them believe that, even for a moment, they’d found a way to manipulate you into their way of thinking. Maybe they’d finally stop whispering petty words when you passed, even begin to accept you into their society, not that you were desperate for that.

Or perhaps, it would give you a little more piece of mind, at least. Quell an unadmitted thirst to understand the hype so you could be completely unattached from this silly thing and hopefully move on with your life.

Those things would not change over the few seconds it would take to finish the deed, but as your mind raced through the possible aftermaths of what you were about to do, a change of sorts had definitely begun.

It was like all of time and space slowed around you. The closer the statue came into your field of vision, it was like entering a tunnel, or vortex, that sucked you in further and blurred reality around you.

And then everything stopped.

There, mere centimeters from you, lie the statue. It’s intricate detail and craftsmanship a new level of divine when admired closely. This was the closest you’d ever been to it and it stole the breath right from your lungs.

It was a strange feeling, mixed with the stares, the heat of the summer day, the nervousness in your belly, and the charge floating through the air. An unnerving mix that, shockingly, calmed the thoughts waging war within you. Like everything was numb, quiet, peaceful almost.

“Just do it already!” A shrill voice called out, followed by the sound of agreement flowing through the crowd. It snapped you from your state, reminding you of the task at hand.

With a little less reluctance than you’d expected, your hand reached out in the direction of the statue’s. Fingers shakily outstretching, all at once, your palm slid into the cool marble one.

It was smooth, yet you could feel every ridge and line like that of a human hand. The cool feeling of the marble against your clammy flesh was surprising considering the temperature the day had suffered through.

You hadn’t even realized your eyes were closed, breath held, until you opened your eyes upon the exhale, coming face-to-face with...

A statue.

You couldn’t help the anxious giggle that slipped from your lips like a mad woman.

You were right, well, at least that was one possibility. You’d touched the damn thing and nothing happened, just like you’d expected.

So why, among the rush of relief, was there an aftertaste of disappointment on your tongue?

The crowd, mildly satisfied and admittedly bored, had begun to disperse as you stood there, hand still placed in the statue’s.

Even though you’d bit the bullet, gotten it over with, you weren’t sure what to do now that it was done. For some reason, you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away, tell your friend ‘I told you so,’ and get on with your life, finally free of the unknown.

That same familiar warmth that pushed you here found its way back to your shoulder.

“Alright, you’ve proven your point...for now. Let’s go.”

Without turning your head to acknowledge her, you looked up into the face of the hunk of rock. For a fleeting moment, you felt as if you were staring into the eyes of another human being.

Without a word, you slowly turned to retreat back to your home, emotions a frenzy you couldn’t quite understand, let alone share with another soul.

As you began to take that first step away from the thing, your hand slipping carefully out of its grasp, you felt the smallest bit of movement behind you.

Before you could turn around on your own, something warm wrapped around your wrist, spinning you back to face the creation that plagued your mind.

Only, you weren’t met the the stark white of the marble, but the ivory tone of skin. Stiffly sculpted hair now flowing freely, dark, with the wind. Empty, pale eyes now filled with a deep rich brown, struck wide as emotion after emotion swirled within them.

Shouts and gasps echoed throughout the square, eyes of every villager as wide as their gaped mouths, returning to their prior posts, the show ending with a twist no one could have predicted.

Mind and body going into an immediate state of shock, there was no time to process anything at all before the weight of the now-man collapsed down from his pedestal onto you.

So the stories held some truth after all...

To Be Continued...