#BUT I LOVE THE IDEA OF GREEK WORDS IF IT ALSO CONTINUES TO FAIL ON ME

[fancyfade]

Thinking about One Year Later time skip that comics had and since my first comics I started reading a ton around this era for were Batfam, I generally was pretty neutral-to-positive on it, because I think many batfam comics (Batgirl excepting, getting into that soon) benefited from the OYL time skip or at least were not negatively affected. HOWEVER reading more comics that took place at that time I am getting more negative on it, so anyway here is my breakdown on which titles were benefited by the OYL time skip, were neither benefited nor harmed, and were harmed by the OYL time skip.

Benefited from the OYL time skip:

Nightwing: Look there are no words for how bad nightwing comics were before the time skip. I know they weren't great after the time skip either but Dick was in drastic need of like some status quo reset. He just got sent through whump city and spent a long time failing at everything.

Robin: Similarly tim's comics also sucked before OYL time skip. it was bad. Willingham had that american military fetish group. Sure tim's still edgy and angsty but at least he got out of that. Tim having time to collect himself after mourning was also a good thing.

Teen Titans: there are no words for how bad the start of geoff johns teen titans run is. it's bad. Geoff Johsn doesn't understand the characters, Cassie's main character trait is "girl". Yeah Geoff Johns is still the writer at first but the team switch up allows us to see some new characters.

Neither benefited nor harmed:

Outsiders: I think the idea of outsiders going under cover for a long time is a neat one, however the way winick handles it is not. i'd say they got some benefits in that the comics felt kind of disjointed and chaotic and they got a nice clean reset, but some drawbacks in that no anissa/grace falling in love on screen (just a flashback) and the intro-plotline to bring them back was stupid.

Birds of Prey: I think they end the Infinite crisis plotlines pretty well and start back up with the time skip fine. Just smooth sailing in general. But they also were not in dire need of a reset, so it's not like they needed the time skip.

Harmed by the OYL time skip:

Wonder Woman: Like. I feel like hypothetically ti could've been done OK. But it was not. it just cut Diana's ambassador time short, she had some nice tie-ins but it wasn't worthy it, and the satisfying development Rucka did for the greek gods was completely ignored and forgotten by every single other writer it's so frustrating. Fully convinced they didn't even care about WW1987 when starting WW2006

Aquaman: Sub Diego was just erased in the TIE IN comics for 52 like tie in comics for an event not even the event itself and certainly not the solo title. and then suddenly Aquaman's gone and replaced by another blond guy named Arthur Curry. the plotlines pre infintie crisis also felt pretty rushed to completion. like they clearly got cut off.

Batgirl 2000: IDK if this coutns, because they cancelled her comic (rather than unsatisfying continuation after time skip) but I'm counting it b/c from what I remember they cancelled her comic b/c they were playing around with the idea of having a kate kane batwoman solo and didn't want 2 female lead batman titles at the time, and kate kane came out of 52. however. can't remember the source so don't quote me on it. (also. ofc kate didn't get a solo either they had no female lead batman titles)

[horizon-verizon]

Inspired by other ask: What positive quality people see in Aegon II? What do you think makes people love/like/feel anything positive about him?

@daenerysthefirst 

The heft of the love or sympathy for Aegon II mostly comes from:

a) the belief that men should continue to inherit power over women in a patriarchal society; Rhaenyra is not as much of a human being with flaws as Aegon to them

b) the idea that the patriarchal rules in of themselves, more often than not, should be followed for the continuance of order and stability (too much work to actually do something and uproot this sort of thing even in smaller, inspirational ways)

c) When considering what makes a man a good ruler, and how he respects the autonomy and boundaries of women specifically, doesn't factor into his how good or bad he is as a leader. Yes, it does to some (me for example) but I mean as a social pattern and idea. Think of how people praised Jaehaerys for years and are ignorant of how his treatment of his daughters, sister, and wife doesn't concern them so much. And yes, he was good at some practical aspects of ruling and was better at self-preservation….that also became his patriarchal selfishness in his decisions to assimilate body and mind to use Andal suppression of female leadership for his own ends.

d) fandoms and people consuming TV nowadays -- as this article hints at -- do not view women as autonomous, thinking and feeling humans as men; so they grant men much more lenience and less scrutiny for their questionable, evil, or problematic actions. Especially once they show the sort of helpless frustration or show a different image of themselves and their abilities than what is apparent. sometimes that includes them failing at the male-assigned/traditionally associated social "duties" and behaviors (examples: controlling the flow of cash within the household not by directly going through a budget but by giving direction and/or providing those funds OR holding onto power and trying to present manliness while doing it but showing vulnerability and frustration privately [so only the viewers see how pathetic they "really" are]) and being vulnerable to a person who could do those things better or ahead of them in some way.

That writer pointed out the linguistic infantilizing/feminizing of male characters who "fail" at achieving and/or presenting the ability to achieve/obtain impressive positions, images, resources, etc., i.e., the "girl failures" and "baby girls", and the teenage-girlification" of some male characters of Succession in the viewers seeing and "relating" to their emotional pain... sometimes just because they happen to actually express that emotional pain or frustration with recognizably teenage girl items and/or behaviors to "self-soothe".

The Senex Amans and the Connection b/t The Spectacle of Comedy and Drama & Patriarchy

Kinda reminds me actually of the senex amans character of Latin literature and adopted into medieval/early modern literature, how this jealous old man, sometimes a pervert, is supposed to have begun as a comedic character in Greek & Roman comedy. This character is defined by his pathetic lack of control over his own sexual desires or is both "impotent" for being cuckolded/thinking he won't be/that he has the ability to prevent it by isolating his wife. Trying to present himself as having some real control only to have it slip from him until it's too late (the seducer or wife's using blind spots against him or just plain opportunity). In other words, he tries to regain some of the masculinity he lost by getting old through his possessing her. As the old man can/not be expected to ever really participate in knightly/military activities younger men can in the "high" literature that these sorts of medieval texts parody or refer to in "cruder" language and wordplay. Being a knight or showing traits associated with aristocratic knighthood and chivalry was the pinnacle of masculinity even for those who are not aristocrats.

The plays and other texts usually had the younger girl being either kidnapped/seduced away by a more powerful/younger man or voluntarily entering an extramarital affair with a young man. The same texts would also expose and center that lack of restraint/how absurd it is to think a man could expect a woman to stay faithful to his old, wrinkly self (sometimes with the other implication that women, in general, could ever restrain themselves since women are the descendants of the seductive and mentally weak Eve) for the audience to laugh at and mock.

Alongside that, there was another idea/observation that a woman can't be totally blamed or should rebuke and reviled at all for not being faithful (usually a take or comment made by women). Her husband is just physically unattractive to her (his age) and she's bound to him until death, thus her looking elsewhere for a male, one she c/would actually choose if he were both wealthier and accessible-- if she weren't arranged by others into the marriage after years of social isolation. And there would be people in the crowd thinking so, too, medieval people are still a diverse thinking group of people.

But even this idea was still sometimes twisted into making the unfaithful young girl childish & irresponsibly unable to restrain her desires to fulfill her marital duties. Because women were already expected to reserve their sexual activities to their husbands even after death in some circumstances AND masculinity is no longer totally available to old men as it once was AND most of the poltical+economic power is still in his hands (thus the panic at being found out with another man).

The narrative's concern focused on the plight of the old man even as he's being portrayed as pathetic for his attempt at moving out of his own limits or not taking the implications of his age seriously enough in his pursuit of masculinity. Because masculinity is/as always much more valued than a young girl's sexuality/feminity.

The tension of competing masculinities within the context of marriage (which is meant to "seal" in resources and human behaviors) is made funny when the old man's masculinity is constantly negated while also naturalized. He has to find sexual enjoyment somewhere, his wife is desirable, and he must "protect" her, but it is a foregone ending. And what makes this a comedy is it's usually "back to the order" ending with the wife never being found out and the husband being none the wiser despite the hijinks OR coming into a nonunderstanding with her older tyrannically impotent husband to be faithful...but not really.

Diverging -> Comedy = "happy" ending; ends with a new/intact marriage or (re)union of some kind

Tragedy = sad ending; danger looming/an existential crisis ending in death, separation, dissolution of social bonds, or soul-crushing loss

Both of the genres' action comes from the flaws in an institution and/or MCs and ironic juxtapositions to create emphasis.

What does this have to do with Aegon, Though?

The senex amans means nothing without the social context of patriarchy and the exculpation of male foolishness. And Aegon's passivity is the element of demasculinization that I think he was also trying to win back in his attack against Rhaenyra. I write about that last part HERE (and no, I despise him--and not in a fun way like Aemond--so if it looks like I'm defending him, I'm not. I'm saying what I think HE feels.)

Aegon himself is a failure of any sort of leader because:

a) he never tries to be one, partially because he thinks it's already owed to him

b) every time he actually attempts ruling or winning at any confrontation, he either fucks it up for himself, has someone else do it for him because he himself can't bc he already fucked up before (having a betrayer cut Rhaenyra's breast and Sunfyre eats her instead of a battle) or cannot restrain that self-defeating anger (think him going into battle at Rook's Rest)...meanwhile they are blind to/choose to be blind to his decision to have "sex" w/12 yr olds, the years of Rhaenyra never haven been hateful towards him (in a text that hates her, this would be noted by Gyldayn, or Alicent would have at least spread and emphasized it to him and the court during his formative years). "Girl failure", "baby girl" "king".

But some viewers feel for him anyway bc:

a) the misogyny I already listed above in the first section

b) they feel Viserys should have loved him like he loved Rhaenyra and that he deserves that love and attention more than her by virtue of the fact that he is a man/his first male child and "true" heir that Viserys had been seeking

c) in HotD, he pleads with Alicent about how he doesn't want to be what they're pushing him to be when she finds him after he raped Dyana, which in some people's minds makes up for his rape (the evil person showed vulnerability so he deserves sympathy).

It is his comparatively larger passiveness and lack of ambition to Rhaenyra, Aemond, and even Daeron which makes his active decisions and actions seem like they don't matter. His canon patheticness and HotD vulnerability combined appear as if he were less responsible for his own actions than others are. It makes him seem a more passive player in his own life and people latch on to that.

He does not actually do anything in his youth (in the original story) worth mentioning and so the reporters/writers of F&B care to make note of him. They only take note of his drinking, crossness, and "fondling" servant women so it's set up how bad of a leader this guy would be. This is his defining trait!

Aemond does more in his youth by his claiming of Vhagar, the eye incident, his training with Criston, etc. Rhaenyra's life, we get from the moment she's born and we see/hear much more from her than Aegon with his life and marriage to Helaena. Even later, when he gets burned for the first time, he's put out of the story for a while for Aemond and Daeron to come back into the focus of the plot's action. So he appears like a person who is just here to enjoy his privileges and whatever comes his way like he's maybe carefree until his mother comes along to drag him into a war. (Untrue, but more on that later.)

The lack of really a deeper and wider scope of his interactions with Otto, Alicent, Helaena, and Aemond after episode 7 works to make the ones we do see the only ones that "matter" to pin down the relationship dynamics and how Aegon sees himself, but because we get nothing of his treatment or relationship with Helaena and how he justifies being away from his children. Little character development except for the most passionate moments or pathetic moments equals real characterization when you're deprived of a look into the character's "everyday" persona.

It's then easier to see him as more of a victim and a sincere "baby girl" when we see him almost cry at Alicent's castigation in episode 6....yes even as one remembers that he's naked from his just-rape of a much more helpless young servant girl. Right above the bed where she was raped.

HotD really incentivizes the idea of his lack of real accountability when we get nothing else about his interactions with Helaena or his kids, or how he preys on those servants. We don't get to see Aegon by himself or what he chooses to do when no one is there to use their authority against him aside from encouraging his nephews to bully his brother and calling his brother a twat. We see Aegon and all the characters, really having highly intense moments and not the moments of buildup or setup to them, so we are harder-pressed to trace the development, not those high, intense moments of culmination. Aegon thus, gets an easier pass because we don't really see him at his "rest" stage nor the transition into and out of that stage.

d) Otto pushes him around to comport himself at Laena's funeral and not embarrass him and his efforts at presenting him as a dignified heir candidate, totally leaving out any sort of desire to find out why he acts the way he does. And Otto does not seem to care much for any of his grandkids (even with Helaena, he's condescending, not actually engaged with her....yet no one ever mentions this, hmmm) beyond his plans for them.

And Alicent, as her fans and nonfans say, has herself been sexualized and sexually abused before and during her marriage to Viserys into not being able to emotionally connect with her kids as much as if she hadn't been for this same man's ambitions. Aside from Aegon just being insufferable, their relationship is further strained and she's impatient and crosses some boundaries with him because of that strain and history. Because she sees him as making all her own suffering seem worthless/pointless. So the sympathy for her also translates to sympathy for his having to deal/not deal with that, which would be fine...except for what else we know of him.

From Otto's disinterest/abuse, Viserys' comparative disinterest, and Alicent's desperate abuse, some fans feel that he's a victim for being pushed towards the throne through a lie and illusion of danger (the "promise of a young man's life 'wasted' ") after a lifetime of emotional neglect and exploitation -- that Rhaenyra would kill him, Alicent, and the rest of them if he didn't take the throne.

Or if they actually think that either Daemon or Rhaenyra would inevitably target him if he hadn't come into power and opposed them--that Alicent "had a point".

Either way, they also feel bad for him being pushed into a dangerous position without actually ever wanting or pursuing it. That because he didn't want it, he didn't deserve the burns, deaths, and year-long convalescence, that comes from his entering the war at all.

While yes, our parents and those who raise us are far likelier to pass on their habits to their charges (worsening the character their kids build later by letting them get away with stuff), that person is never just a wooden board receiving hit after hit. They have a brain and the ability to observe, think, feel, and compare. Aegon (book and show) simply chooses not to pursue anything beyond himself.

*EDIT this one paragraph* (12/5/23): He didn't want kingship at first (and I am sorta amending some statements of the past but also not) but he always wanted power comes with the removal of accountability and he comes to see kingship as the only his mode towards that anyway. Both in the book and show. To reiterate, he wants to be treated as if he's a big deal and comes to see kingship as the only way to be treated as the biggest deal...without having to cater to anyone else's needs or perform altruist policies bc this is the antithesis of what he wants. He thus ignores others' boundaries. And this circle of abuse further makes him lend more of that helpless image. Think Roderick Usher of the The Fall of the House of Usher tv show.

This is where I could see why people would feel bad for him...but he is a rapist both in the show and book and even if you were abused/raped, it doesn't stop your act of rape from being rape and it doesn't stop the internal patriarchal entitlement to rape from existing and being self-evident in the rape. His raping also gets ignored because some think that his "fondling" of women is not "serious" or never happened.

Or if they believe it "serious" and have happened, it doesn't occur to them that Aegon would rape someone because they assume that he has a higher moral code than he actually does...because they feel that Viserys ignoring him/near "motherlessness" somehow automatically makes him a victim.

If one is a victim, one cannot criticize their evil or questionable actions and thus cannot confront and acknowledge their wrongdoing, and victims automatically know to not victimize, therefore he couldn't have victimized anyone.....

e) Many people have been abused by those who are supposed to care for them or have felt completely powerless and trapped in familial cycles of trauma....so they feel they see themselves in Aegon more than in Rhaenyra, who actively finds partners in Harwin, Daemon, Laena, and maybe even Laenor, built her own family, and has more of Viserys' attention and regard. However, Rhaenyra also has traumas, Viserys also disables her from accruing power where it most matters, and has had to face Alicent's censure and targeted attacks for years, whether in book or show and would have felt helplessness in being a woman, lost her mother to at a very young age. Her abuse and traumas do not matter because she tries to fight back or she does so by going directly against the traditional mores of womanhood that create those foundations of abuse and emotional neglect she is rejecting in the first place.

Because they can't relate to her (or think so) and she is not suffering like how they want her to, Rhaenyra's resistance becomes a flaw rather than something to admire. HotD Alicent's suffering is much more appealing and Book!+show!Alicent's internalized misogyny doesn't really challenge them to look beyond their/her own suffering from patriarchy, so sometimes it feels like they are actually participating in denying patriarchy. Aegon, like show!Alicent, is a more passive but seemingly helpless victim of his demasculinization. Perfect vs imperfect victimhood, it's also described pretty concisely and perfectly by la-pheacienne HERE. And the blackqveen talks about the projection of suffering HERE.

[lightdancer1]

I will also note re: Tara and her darker side:

First, we do have Amber Benson herself writing a Tara who'd fit comfortably in a Warhammer Fantasy fluff. The sorceress who reads the wrong book, gets corrupted and possessed by those words, and is casually using her world's Willow as a power battery...while being about as hammy as the Wicked Witch of the West. I do love Benson's voice performance in that, and I enjoy using that version not least because given Amber Benson's protectiveness of said character that she wrote the first new media with her featuring an actually legitimately evil version says something.

Second, if we go with the idea that Tara's power draws from the Earth, there are two relevant points here. Assuming Gaia has connections to Greek myth when Osiris is both real and punked by Willow in one of her darker and more awesome moments equally, this is the Gaia who casually spat out monsters to kill the Gods because she was a murderous wrathful entity. Gaia is anything but a kindly maternal figure, she's more Kali-Durga. Second, at a purely scientific level tsunamis, volcanism, landslides, and the like are all things the Earth does.

Like any other kind of magic it has its more destructive sides and tapping into this is not technically Dark Magic, but it is the shadow-side of Earth magic, and it is one area where Tara is and will always be the 'always someone better' to Willow because Willow is a generalist who can do everything somewhat well, and Tara a very specialized focus in one set of magic in the long term. A lot of fanfics make her equal in power and the canon is very blunt that she is not. Not being equal to the most powerful sorcerer on Earth, or according to the comics, the entire universe of the Buffyverse Earth, does not mean that she is weak.

It only means that she comes short next to the magical equivalent of Silver Age Superman and there are huge gulfs in that. Still further, even when there are mitigating reasons Tara in canon sabotaged demon-location spells in the middle of the search for Adam and almost killed the entire Scooby gang in that one day when all her collective traumas bricked her in the face.

The canon character is by no means an infallible moral figure, and that I think is one of the few areas where the broad sketches of the Season 6 arc still work, Tara made smaller-scale mistakes and more importantly learned from them and learned how not to do it again. Willow makes much grander ones in pursuit of control over her life and a power trip from no longer being the side-kick and coming into vast amounts of power without real means to control it. Dark Lord Rosenberg vs. the traumatized cult survivor who more than most would see Mall Goth Sauron exactly for what she is and take the logical protective root of scooting and doing so too fast to warn the Scoobies of the time bomb in their midst.

Things with her and Willow work better when she is not, in fact, always right and when her behavior which on the whole is the best relationship in anything Whedon wrote (and when I continue this is still true and it tells you about all the others he's written) is one of largely picking fights and dealing with insecurities poorly and in a very human fashion until Dark Willow more than justifies the things she did more retroactively than at the time....is subject to the reminder that she is both abuse survivor, cult victim, internalized her view of herself as a demon and is not in fact always right on major things as she never quite accepted that she wasn't one.

She is not always right, her advice to Willow being a train wreck works better because it's well-meaning, from the POV of someone who sees a problem happening, does what little she can to stop it and when it fails secures herself rather than being forced to always think of others. Equally her growth arc and that of Willow very much complement each other. The neglect victim and the cult victim find their own self-worth and that in each other, and each brings out both the other's good traits and at particular times and in particular ways, their bad ones.

Tara's background is also, as things like the Quiverfull movement and other modern cults show something that can work just as well in a non-supernatural AU. After all that she is NOT a demon is precisely the point, and 'simplifying' things to 'mere' physical and emotional abuse also neglects that cult survivors and the intersections of religions and in particular Christianity in its Protestant (more than Catholic, the Maclays really read like the boondocks of Roll Tide country rather than Catholic) sense with misogyny work in a purely 'normal' world. People raised in insular cults encountering the wider world and escaping them does happen.

Some of them are gay.

That and I also tend to oppose pedestals even or perhaps especially with fictional characters where there are minimal real-world consequences. Allowing people to be truly human, flawed, and the world to be better for the flaws is better than a saintly figure who can do no wrong.

Because what, after all, shows best the growth of an increasingly megalomaniacal and controlling mentality that leads someone to flee for a good reason than someone most equipped of anyone to recognize it for what it is and to refuse to put herself back in the world she fought so hard to escape from? And that in turn spawning out of whether or not it's a metaphor for queerness or heroin that Buffyverse magic is reality-warping with spellbooks and that the power to say to stones 'become bread' and then you have freshly baked loafs of the finest quality is something that would, invariably turn people down dark and destructive paths because there are few people who would be granted such power suddenly and handle it well.

So, ultimately, I think that Tara works best less as an unrealistic saintly good plot device and more as an abuse survivor and cult victim whose greatest arc is both learning to stand up for herself and grow into who she is and what she is, and that it is those same jagged flaws and blind spots that stand her so well with the equally jaggedly flawed and blind in critical places Willow, because their flaws both coarsen and complement each other in equal measure. They are never better than with each other, and there is nothing but the two of them to potentially bring out the very worst traits that can and would lead Tara to almost kill off her family of choice in a blunder that to that point was more potentially lethal than anything Willow did in her entirety of bungled reality warping 'fix my life and oh shit I fucked up other people's stuff bad me, cookie time' stuff up to that point in each other as well. And of course Willow's most destructive acts were all out of the fear of doing the very thing they brought on and motivated by her loss and the suicidal grief she was plunged into from it.

And let's not forget, if we say they're soulmates, that the other soulmate duo in this universe is Buffy and Angel. Is that *really* a recommendation that soulmates and one true loves work well for either person involved here?

[tj-van-heerden]

The Believer's Armor: God's Provision for Your Protection Ephesians 6:10-17; Luke 4:2; Luke 22:44

Introduction

The Christian life is a battle. It is warfare on a grand scale.

Jesus' ministry began with a battle against Satan that lasted forty days (Luke 4:2). As Jesus' ministry drew to an end, Satan besieged Him again in the Garden of Gethsemane. He hit Him with such force that our Lord sweat great drops of blood (Luke 22:44). Those two accounts alone teach us that the battle may not become easier as we grow in obedience to God. If anything, Satan will intensify his efforts against those who continue effectively serving the Lord. But God has not left us defenseless.

When the apostle Paul first went to Ephesus to preach the gospel, he faced immediate opposition. He was run out of the synagogue by unbelieving Jewish leaders (Acts 19:8-9), mimicked by apostate Jewish exorcists (vv. 13-16), and threatened by silversmiths, whose idol-making business was suffering because of Paul's ministry (vv. 23-40).

Paul knew that where the greatest spiritual challenge lied was also likely to be the greatest danger and opposition. Many pastors are tempted to leave their ministry when things become difficult. But an easy ministry may be a weak one; because where the Lord's work is genuinely being done Satan will not fail to oppose it. As believers in Jesus Christ, we are not only God's children and servants but also His soldiers--and a soldier's job is to fight the enemy.

Paul closed his letter to the Ephesians by giving them--and us--the warning and encouragement we need. In Ephesians 6:10-13 Paul outlines the essential truths about the believer's warfare.

The Believer's Warfare

The Preparation: Strength in the Lord

Preparation is basic to living an effective Christian life. The strength of the Christian life is depending on God--on being "strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might" (v. 10).

Any other strength proves to be impotent. Our own strength is never enough to oppose Satan, but when we are strong in the Lord, even a little of His strength is sufficient to win any battle. Paul said, "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13). It is not the amount of strength we have that's important--only its source.

To the extent that a Christian is strong in the Lord, his victory is guaranteed over the worst Satan has to offer. We are in a war--a terrible and fierce war--but have no reason to be afraid if we are on the Lord's side. Appropriation of that strength comes through what the Puritans referred to as "the means of grace"--prayer, knowing Scripture, obeying it, and faith in the promises of God.

The Provision: The Armor of God

To take advantage of the strength of God's might, a believer must also "put on the full armor of God, so that [he] will be able to stand firm" (Ephesians 6:11). The Greek word translated "put on" (enduo) carries the idea of permanence. The full armor of God is not something to be put on and taken off occasionally but is something to be put on permanently.

When used in a military sense, the Greek word translated "stand firm" (histemi) refers to holding a critical position while under attack. Living an obedient, Spirit-empowered life is what enables us to stand firm.

The Enemy: Satan

Ephesians 6:11 says we are to "stand firm against the schemes of the devil." Satan is God's enemy; therefore he is our enemy. The only way he can attack God is through us. And we can be sure he will seek us out and attack us with his schemes.

The Greek word translated "schemes" is methodia, which gives us the English word method. It refers to craftiness, cunning, and deception. Satan's evil schemes are built around stealth and deception.

The apostle John summarized the devil's attack with this exhortation: "Do not love the world [Satan's present domain] nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father" (1 John 2:15-16).

The Battle: Against Demons

One of Satan's most effective strategies--and one of a believer's greatest dangers--is the delusion that no seriously threatening conflict between good and evil is raging in the invisible and supernatural realm. But that sort of thinking not only is naive but also leads to lethargy, indifference, and spiritual stagnation. The war between God and Satan has not diminished but intensified, and so has its front on this earth.

Ephesians 6:12 says, "Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places." Paul reminded his readers that the Christian's struggle is against not only Satan himself, but also the host of his demon subordinates--a vast army of adversaries, who, like the devil, are not made of flesh and blood. Our greatest enemy is not the world we see, corrupt and wicked as it is, but the world we cannot see.

"Rulers…powers…world forces of this darkness…spiritual forces of wickedness" describe the different strata and rankings of those demons and the evil, supernatural empire in which they operate. Human beings who promote paganism, the occult, and various other ungodly and immoral movements and programs are but the dupes of Satan and his demons. They are trapped by their sins and weaknesses into unwittingly helping to fulfill his schemes.

Each mention of those supernatural powers is preceded by "against," and each seems to represent a particular category of demonic activity or hierarchy. Paul's purpose, however, is not to explain the details of that hierarchy but to give us some idea of its sophistication and power. We are pitted against an incredibly evil, potent, and well-organized enemy. Our response should be to turn to God, who is our source of protection and victory.

Every believer has already experienced the surpassing greatness of [God's] power toward us who believe. "These are in accordance with the working of the strength of His might which He brought about in Christ, when He raised Him from the dead, and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly places" (Eph.1:19-20). The power that raised Jesus from the dead and exalted Him in heaven is our power, bequeathed to us as joint heirs with Him.

The Victory: Standing Firm

Ephesians 6:13 says, "Take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm." God gives no deferments or exemptions. His people are at war and will continue to be at war until He returns and takes charge of the earth. But even the most willing and eager soldier of Christ is helpless without God's provision. That is Paul's point: "Take up the full armor of God" (emphasis added). We have His provision in being His children, in having His Word, in possessing His indwelling Holy Spirit, and of having every resource that our heavenly Father possesses. God is our strength, but His strength is appropriated only through obedience. His mighty armor must be put on (v. 11) and taken up (v. 13).

In the great spiritual warfare in which we do battle, we are called only to resist and stand firm. James said, "Resist the devil and he will flee from you" (James 4:7). Peter counseled us to "be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. But resist him, firm in your faith" (1 Peter 5:8-9).

The Believer's Armor

In Ephesians 6:14-17 Paul identifies six pieces of armor with which God supplies His children to withstand the onslaughts of Satan and the demons. The Greek word translated "having" (aorist tense) in verses 14-15 indicates that the first three pieces of armor are permanent. The believer is never to be without them. The phrase "in addition to all" in verse 16 introduces the last three pieces of armor. They are preceded by the Greek verbs translated "taking up" and "take," which implies they are to be kept always at hand to be used as soon as the actual fighting begins.

The Belt of Truth

Ephesians 6:14 says, "Stand firm therefore, having girded your loins with truth." The Roman soldier wore a tunic, an outer garment that served as his primary clothing. It was usually made of a large, square piece of material with holes cut out for the head and arms. It draped loosely over most of the soldier's body. Since the majority of ancient combat was hand-to-hand, a loose tunic was a potential hindrance and even a danger. Before a battle it was therefore carefully cinched up between the soldier's legs and tucked into the heavy leather belt.

That belt demonstrates the believer's readiness for war and stands for truth. The Greek word translated "truth" (aletheia) basically refers to the content of that which is true. Knowing the content of God's truth is absolutely essential for the believer if he is to battle successfully against the schemes of Satan. Without knowing basic biblical teaching, he is subject to being "carried about by every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, by craftiness in deceitful scheming" (Ephesians 4:14).

But alethia can also refer to the attitude of truthfulness. It represents not only the accuracy of specific truths, but also the quality of truthfulness. That seems to be the primary meaning Paul has in mind here. To be girded with truth reveals an attitude of readiness and of genuine commitment. It is the mark of the sincere believer who forsakes hypocrisy. Every encumbrance that might hinder his work for the Lord is gathered and tucked into his belt of truthfulness so that it will be out of the way. Paul said, "No soldier in active service entangles himself in the affairs of everyday life, so that he may please the one who enlisted him as a soldier" (2 Timothy 2:4).

Being girded with truth is being renewed in mind and proving "what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect" (Romans 12:2). When you renew your mind by committing yourself to God's truth, you will become "a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship" (v. 1).

The Breastplate of Righteousness

No Roman soldier would go into battle without his breastplate--a tough sleeveless piece of armor that covered everything apart from his head and limbs. It was often made of leather or heavy linen, onto which were sewn overlapping pieces of metal molded or hammered to conform to the body. The purpose of that piece of armor is obvious--to protect one's heart, lungs, intestines, and other vital organs.

The mind and the emotions are the two areas where Satan most fiercely attacks believers. He wants to cloud our minds with false doctrine, false principles, and false information to mislead and confuse us. He also wants to confuse our emotions and thereby pervert our affection, morals, loyalties, goals, and commitments. He desires to snatch the Word of God from our minds and replace it with his own perverse ideas. He seeks to undermine pure living and replace it with immorality, greed, envy, hate, and every other vice. He wants us to laugh at sin rather than mourn over it, and to rationalize it rather than confess it and bring it to the Lord for forgiveness. He seduces us to become so accustomed to sin in us and around us that it no longer disturbs us.

Our protection against such attacks is the breastplate of righteousness. Righteousness is to be taken and wrapped around our whole being, just as ancient soldiers covered themselves with armor breastplates.

Paul here is obviously not speaking of self-righteousness, which is not righteousness at all but the sin of pride. Nor is he speaking of imputed righteousness--the righteousness God applies to the account of every Christian the moment he believes in Christ (Romans 4:6, 11, 22-24). The breastplate of righteousness is the practical righteousness of moment-by-moment obedience to God's Word.

Our armor must include the breastplate of righteousness--the genuine holiness of him or her whose "every thought [is] captive to the obedience of Christ" (2 Corinthians 10:5) and whose mind is set "on the things above, not on the, things that are on earth" (Colossians 3:2).

The Shoes of the Gospel of Peace

Since the average ancient soldier marched on rough, hot roads, climbed over jagged rocks, trampled over thorns, and waded through streambeds of jagged stones, his feet needed much protection. A soldier whose feet were blistered, cut, or swollen could not fight well and often was not able to stand up--a perilous situation in battle. The shoes of Roman soldiers were usually impregnated with bits of metal or nails to give him greater traction as he climbed a slippery hill, and greater stability as he fought.

A Christian's spiritual footwear is equally important in his warfare against the schemes of the devil. If he has carefully girded his loins with truth and put on the breastplate of righteousness, but does not properly shod his feet with the "preparation of the gospel of peace" (Ephesians 6:15), he is destined to stumble, fall, and suffer many defeats.

The Greek word translated "preparation" (hetoimasia) generally refers to readiness. A good pair of boots allowed the soldier to march, climb, fight, or do whatever else was necessary at a moment's notice. Christ demands the same readiness of His people.

In this passage "the gospel of peace" refers to the good news that believers are at peace with God. The unsaved person is helpless, ungodly, sinful, and an enemy of God (Romans5:6-10).The saved person, on the other hand, is reconciled to God through faith in His Son(Romans 5:10-11; 2 Corinthians 5:20-21).

The gospel of peace is the marvelous truth that in Christ we are now at peace with God and are one with Him. Therefore, when our feet are shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace, we stand in the confidence of God'slove for us, His union with us, and His commitment to fight for us.

The believer who stands in the Lord's power need not fear any enemy--even Satan himself. When he comes to attack us, our feet are rooted firmly on the solid ground of the gospel of peace, through which God changed from our enemy to our defender.

The Shield of Faith

Ephesians 6:16 says, "In addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one." Roman soldiers used several kinds of shields. The kind Paul refers to here (Gk., thureos) was about two-and-a-half feet wide and high, designed to protect the entire body of the soldier. The shield was made of a solid piece of wood and was covered with metal or thick leather.

The faith Paul refers to here is faith in God, which is immeasurably more reliable than practical, everyday faith we live by. And it is far from being blind faith. Faith is only as reliable and helpful as the trustworthiness of its object. The Christian faith is infinitely powerful and because the object of faith is Jesus Christ, it is the infinite God. Our faith never falls because the One in whom our faith is placed never fails.

In New Testament times the tips of arrows would often be wrapped in pieces of cloth that had been soaked in pitch. Just before the arrow was shot, the tip would be lighted and the flaming missile would be shot at the enemy troops. The pitch burned fiercely, and on impact it would splatter flaming bits, igniting anything flammable in its path. In addition to piercing a person's body, such arrows inflicted serious burns on enemy soldiers and destroyed their clothing and gear. The most reliable protection against these flaming missiles was the thureos. Its covering of metal or treated leather would either deflect or extinguish them.

Satan continually bombards God's children with the flaming arrows of immorality, hatred, anger, covetousness, pride, doubt, fear, despair, distrust, and other temptations. Every temptation, either directly or indirectly, tries to get us to doubt or distrust God. The purpose of Satan's missiles is to cause believers to forsake their trust in God, to drive a wedge between the Savior and the saved. Put up the shield of faith and that won't happen to you.

The Helmet of Salvation

The fifth piece of God's armor is represented by the Roman soldier's helmet (Ephesians 6:17), without which he would never enter battle. Some of the helmets were made of thick leather covered with metal plates, and others were of heavy molded or beaten metal. They usually had cheek pieces to protect the face.

The purpose of the helmet was to protect the head from injury, particularly from the dangerous broadsword commonly used in the warfare of that day. It was not the much smaller sword mentioned later in verse 17, but a large, two-handed, double-edged sword (Gk., rhomphaia, cf. Revelation 1:16; 2:12; 6:8) that measured three to four feet in length. It was often carried by cavalrymen, who would swing at the heads of enemy soldiers to split their skulls or decapitate them.

That Paul relates the helmet to salvation indicates that Satan's blows are directed at the believer's security and assurance in Christ. The two dangerous edges of Satan's spiritual broadsword are discouragement and doubt. To discourage us, he points to our failures, our sins, our unresolved problems, our poor health, or to whatever else seems negative in our lives. He wants us to lose confidence in the love and care of our heavenly Father.

Doubt is what often brings about discouragement. Doubts about the truths of God, including doubt about one's salvation, are the worst sort of discouragements for a believer. If a believer doubts God's goodness or dependability, or if his relation to God seems uncertain, he has no ground for hope and therefore no protection from discouragement. The person who thinks he has nothing worthwhile to look forward to has no reason to fight, work, or live responsibly.

Since Paul is addressing believers, putting on the helmet of salvation cannot refer to receiving Christ as Savior. The only ones who can take up any piece of God's armor are those who are already saved.

The first aspect of salvation, justification, is a past reality. It was accomplished the moment we trusted in Christ. That particular act of faith need never be repeated because we are secure in our Father's hands, and no one can snatch us from there (John 10:28-29). We are forever saved from condemnation (Romans 8:1).

The second aspect of salvation, sanctification, involves our life on earth, during which we experience a measure of freedom from the dominating power of sin. Being now under God's grace, sin no longer has mastery or dominion over us. We are no longer a slave to sin but to God (Romans 6:14, 18-22).

The third aspect of salvation, glorification, is yet future. One day we shall be saved from sin's presence. Looking forward to that glorious time, John said, "Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not appeared as yet what we will be. We know that, when He appears, we will be like Him, because we will see Him just as He is" (1 John 3:2).

It is this final aspect of salvation that is the real strength of the believer's helmet. If we lack hope in the future promise of salvation, there can be no security in the present. That's why Paul called this same piece of armor "the hope of salvation" (1 Thessalonians 5:8). In Romans 8:23-24 Paul explains further, "Having the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body. For in hope we have been saved." The helmet of salvation is that great hope of final salvation that gives us confidence and assurance that our present struggle with Satan will not last forever. We know we will be victorious in the end!

The Sword of the Spirit

Paul concluded his treatise on God's armor by identifying the last piece: "the sword [Gk., machaira] of the Spirit, which is the word of God" (Ephesians 6:17). The machaira was anywhere from six to eighteen inches. It was the common sword carried by Roman foot soldiers and was the principal weapon in hand-to-hand combat. Carried in a sheath or scabbard attached to their belts, it was always at hand and ready for use.

The Greek phrase translated "of the Spirit" (tou pneumatos) can also be translated "by the Spirit" or "spiritual," referring to the nature of the sword rather than its source. From the context we know it is a spiritual weapon, to be used in our struggle against spiritual enemies. The same Greek phrase is translated "spiritual" in Ephesians 1:3 and 5:19. Although that meaning is perfectly consistent with the context of Ephesians 6:10-17, the preferred rendering is as a genitive of origin, "of the Spirit," indicating the Holy Spirit as the origin of the sword. As the Spirit of truth (John 14:17), the Holy Spirit is the believer's resident truth Teacher, who teaches us all things and brings God's Word to our remembrance (John 14:20).

Paul explicitly states that the sword of the Spirit is the Word of God. As such it is first of all a defensive weapon, capable of deflecting the blows of an opponent. It is the believer's supreme weapon of defense against the onslaught of Satan. However, unlike the shield, which gives broad and general protection, the sword can deflect an attack only if it is handled with precision at close range. It must parry the enemy weapon exactly where the thrust is made. When Jesus was tempted by Satan in the wilderness, His defense for each temptation was a passage of Scripture that precisely contradicted the devil's word (Matthew 4:4, 7, 10). The Christian who does not know God's Word well cannot use it well. Satan will invariably find out where we are ignorant or confused and attack us there. Scripture is not a broadsword (Gk., rhomphaia) to be waved indiscriminately, but a dagger to be used with great precision.

The sword of the Spirit is also an offensive weapon, capable of inflicting blows as well as deflecting those of the enemy. Scripture is "living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are open and laid bare to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do" (Hebrews 4:12-13).

The Word of God is so powerful that it transforms men and women from the realm of falsehood to that of truth, from the realm of darkness to that of light, and from the realm of sin and death to that of righteousness and life. It changes sadness into joy, despair into hope, stagnation into growth, childishness into maturity, and failure into success.

Every time God's Word leads a person to salvation is a demonstration of its power to cut a swath through Satan's dominion of darkness and bring light to a darkened soul. May you use that formidable weapon with great skill, as well as the other pieces of spiritual armor available to you, for the glory of God and the furthering of His kingdom.

gty.org/resources/positions/P14/the-believers-armor-gods-provision-for-your-protection 2015-09-30

[the-middle-grounds]

I posted 1,139 times in 2022

149 posts created (13%)

990 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@secretlystephaniebrown

@kineticallyanywhere

@fantastic-nonsense

@abd-illustrates

@marsoid

I tagged 1,139 of my posts in 2022

#q - 963 posts

#reblogged art - 268 posts

#dc - 204 posts

#reblogged videos - 132 posts

#memery - 121 posts

#rambles - 105 posts

#writing is hard - 59 posts

#cats - 53 posts

#bruce wayne - 53 posts

#dick grayson - 51 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i can still write its just that i rely too much on internet autosave and i don't trust device saving after too many incidents with computer

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

June Log 2022|Mid-2022 Log

“June?  What happened to May?”

Recharging.

Well, finally at the middle of the year.  Definitely falling behind my goals, but I have come to some realizations.

First and foremost, while I was looking forward to writing a book around the next year, I’ve come to realize it might be better to hold that off in favor of my planned webcomic.  We’ll see what I stick with by the end of the year, most likely.

I don’t have a second one, I don’t why I acted like I did.

I will say though, I think I need to introduce more routine in my life.  That way I can chip away at stuff more and feel more productive than my usual random bursts of 10k words in one sleep deprived night.

Other than that, June’s here, and I’m going to be swapping out other goals for new ones.

Yay.

Goals for 2022

Rewatch Red Vs Blue

Actually finished season 1.  Plan to finish the rest maybe around August.  Though I think I’ll only go up to season 14.  (Looking into the newest seasons some other time)

One inked and colored drawing a month (even if it’s just monochrome)

Failed and not continuing.  Maybe next year.

Doodle/Drawing Challenge (365 Days of Red-X)

Starts this month on the 8th.  (Was supposed to be May but I got the date wrong).

Finish two one arc of Three Strikes (other than the first arc).

Behind this one. so adjusting it to just one arc.  That arc is about 3 chapters, but could stretch to 4-5.

Finish plotting at least two books of a novel series.

I got this.  Partially.

Design the main cast of a webcomic I’m planning.

I have IDEAS.  Just trying to figure out what I want.  Thankfully most of them wear uniforms.

June Goals

Read Lightning Thief

Actually surprised I didn’t read this earlier considering I was interested in Greek Mythology when I was 12-13.  Fun book so far.

Also what the fuck’s with this kid.

Finish Chapters 2-3 of Three Strikes

Finally got free time AND the drive to write.

I swear once I actually get on a roll it’s over for my procrastination.

For a bit.

See the full post

2 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

#4

Okay but Deliver Us is great

3 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#3

Another year another Tarah.

Decided to add some simplistic shading and give them some clothes for the first time (i still don’t have an entire outfit in mind).

Some notable changes that I’ve made to the 2021 version:

- Disgruntled Tarah

- Bye, bye back hair ombre (it felt too overpowering when I gave them clothes versus when they didn’t)

- Simplified the hair because it’s painful to draw.

- Simplified their facial markings because it looked way too much like overexaggerated eyeliner.

- Ears! I love tufted ears and need to be contained.  But also didn’t like the overly large/fluffy design.

- Rounder nose (might change back)

- Choker that totally has no relation to the plot.  Absolutely not.

4 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

#2

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Teen Titans (Animated Series), DCU Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Red X/Barbara Gordon, Red X & Dick Grayson, Red X & Jason Todd, Red X & Original Characters, Red X & Bruce Wayne, Red X & Teen Titans, Red X/Komand'r, Red X & H.I.V.E Five, Red X/Kyd Wykkyd, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Red X (DCU), Teen Titans (DCU), Dick Grayson, Koriand'r (DCU), Garfield Logan, Victor Stone, Raven (DCU), Original Characters, Batfamily Members, Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Komand'r (DCU), H.I.V.E Five, Jinx (DCU), Kyd Wykkyd (DCU) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Red X is his own character, Morally Ambiguous Character, Unreliable Narrator, Depression, Dark, Relationship-centric, Family, Team as Family, Canon Disabled Character, Romani Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon is a BAMF, Multiracial Jason Todd, Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Background Relationships Summary:

One for the money.

Two for the show.

Three to be ready.

And four more to go.

___

He's a thief; he has been all of his life, and he is more than likely to go to the grave with this fact eternally hanging over his head. It's the only thing he's good at; that and ruining things for other people. In some screwed-up way, watching people get what they deserve is even fun for him; it's karmic justice.

But just like every other person, he has flaws and makes mistakes now and again.

And at this rate, they're going to catch up with him.

---

Rated M for Mature Language and Violence.

5 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I find the outrage about The Batman not being for kids funny because I've seen at least one person boldly say: "Has there EVER been a child-friendly Batman movie?"

Like Lego Batman didn't come out a few years ago.

16 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[thatanimewriter]

I DON’T CARE.

➳ synopsis: in which haru says that he doesn’t care for your interests

➳ character/s: nanase haruka

➳ warnings: angst to fluff, established relationship, reader is a big book reader, talk about and light spoilers for the book series heroes of olympus by rick riordan (the lost hero, the son of neptune and mark of athena are spoken of)

➳ word count: 0.9k

➳ notes: i clearly can’t decide what format i want my posts to be in, but enjoy! i’ve had this sort of thing happen to me and it sure was a mood killer because you’re goin on about something you love n your partner pretty much says they don’t really care or they admit that they don’t listen, they just wait for you to stop ._.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 + 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

quiet murmurs filled the bookstore as you wandered the shelves with a small smile plastered to your lips. briefly scanning the signs indicating which sections contained which genre, your smile brightened as you spotted the young adult section. haru followed behind, vastly less enthusiastic than you were about book shopping and the wave of tiredness had started to show.

you stood in front of the bookshelves, dragging your index finger along the spines of the other books, stopping at the book you wanted and pulling it from the shelf. your smile widened as you happily danced on the spot. turning to haru, you failed to notice the fatigue in his eyes as you rambled to him about the book series.

‘i’m really curious to see how mark of athena goes, because the lost hero focused on leo, jason and piper, but the son of poseidon focused on percy, frank and hazel, so now that they’ve started to combine on top of annabeth being part of the main seven, i have no idea where they’re gonna go with this, and now that camp half-blood and camp jupiter have sort of integrated into one, the interactions between greek and roman traditions and lifestyles and how they’ll mix, but also-’

‘didn’t you buy another book, like, a week ago?’ haru asked bluntly, interrupting your train of thoughts.

‘well, yeah, but i’m close to finishing it and i figured i’d get the next one in the series so i wouldn’t have to wait as long,’ you explained.

‘there are other things to do that aren’t reading, you know,’ he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and yawning. 

your smile was immediately wiped off of your face as you realised he didn’t care for your hobbies and your gaze flicked to the ground. humming in thought, you reluctantly put the book back on the shelf, subconsciously hugging yourself as you continued to stare at the floor.

‘can we go home now?’

‘yeah, i guess...’

the journey back home was quiet, not only because haru was tired and desperately wanted to get back home and have a bath, but because the energy you had previously possessed had vanished in a cloud of smoke and you no longer had anything to talk about. after all, your boyfriend had effectively told you he didn’t care to hear about your interests.

when you got off the train, you allowed him to hug you goodbye, but turned away disappointedly when you parted to make your separate walks home. haru watched as you walked away, slightly hunched in on yourself and a frown came across his face. he thought about what he said to you before and in his tired state, he sat back down on the bench and waited for the next train to the town he’d just come from.

when he returned to the bookstore, he navigated his way back to the section you made a beeline to. scouring the shelves, his eyes landed on the book you had picked up before. he knew you burned through books at an alarming rate, and recalling what you’d said about nearly finishing the son of neptune and wanting to buy mark of athena to continue the story without waiting. glancing at the shelf, he saw the remaining books for the series, then at the price sticker on the back of the book he held in his hands. holding it to his chest, he took the other 2 books left in the series and stacked them on top of the one you had almost bought and made his way to the counter.

on the train ride back, he pulled mark of athena from the bag and read the blurb. shrugging to himself, he opened the book and began to read to pass the time. when he arrived back at the station he would get off on, he was a couple chapters in and he couldn’t lie.

he was kinda hooked.

the fatigue he felt when he brushed off your excitement was long gone and he was pretty much dying to ask you a question as he jogged to your house. knocking on the door, his chest heaved while he waited for you to answer, making sure to keep the bag of books behind his back.

‘haru?’ your figure stood in the doorway, a confused expression on your face. ‘what are you doing here?’

‘umm, can i come in?’ he asked awkwardly. raising an eyebrow at his response, you stepped to the side, opening the door wider as a silent invitation inside. when you closed the door, you turned to face him once more.

‘what’s this about?’ you pressed, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt. he didn’t respond, instead, he held the bag out to you with a shy smile it was almost unnoticeable. taking it from him, you peered inside skeptically, but your face glowed as you saw what was inside. ‘you bought them all?’

rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, he nodded and a faint pink hue spread across his cheeks. ‘yeah, and i kind of read the one you wanted today on the train back...’

your grin widened - if that was even possible - and you couldn’t stop the glee from overtaking your body. ‘and?’

‘...do you mind if i borrow the first 2?’

laughing to yourself, you pulled him into a tight hug, kissing him gently as you pulled away from the hug slightly. ‘of course not. i’ll read them to you if you want?’

haru returned your smile and leaned in for another kiss. ‘that’d be perfect.’

[thebigqueer]

i love the indian percy soap opera idea and with the new pjo casting (so excited for walker!!) i see this as the perfect time to advance my desi grace siblings agenda. i am absolutely projecting here but i think jason's discipline and desire to be perfect fits in so perfectly with this hc, esp since he's always being compared to someone else (desi parents' fav hobby). ALSO remember when in the demigod files Thalia meets Melinoe who looks like Beryl and is all "you abandoned me" blah blah blah...

...i feel like thats also so mmmm like that's something you hear so much from desi parents like family is so important and when u try and step away from that family there is def this sense of betrayal i'm not putting it into words correctly but this would hit so hard if she was desi *not that this doesn't hit hard regardless, just that mmmmmmmmm* and i just would love to seem them struggle with their culture bc like are they american? are they greek/roman? are they desi? how can they embrace...

ANON i am KISSING you on the mouth (or hugging you if you prefer that or whatever else). i think about desi grace siblings ALL the time and the part where you said about jason trying to be disciplined, i high key agree w that point because yes!!! i think him being such a rule follower and feeling pressured under those rules is smth that is soooo personal as an indian person too!! not to mention hes always been held up as a leader and when his role as a leader is challenged (like how rick intended for the percy vs jason rivalry, seeing as how percy is considered the Opposing Leader on the argo ii), or when he thinks he's failed as a leader, he ends up beating himself up over it (although tbh the other characters act this way too so its not like specific for jason, but because leadership is such an important trait for his character i feel like that conflict is especially apparent).

ALSO i would love to see desi thalia fr because ummm desi punk girl??? id love to see a desi character like thalia be the opposite of what media tends to portray us as - shes all scary & intimidating, and definitely NOT a rule follower, and i think it'd be so cool to see her be that as a desi person. and her contrast to jason would speak volumes (it already does but it would especially if she n jason are desi!!) also omg desi beryl grace would be soo interesting because desi woman as an actress in hollywood??? intense. although she does end up dying so idk if that would be as relevant but id still kill to see that. and YES i love your point about their culture cuz ik as a desi american that its smth that really impacts me a lot, so to add in the greek/roman/desi/american thing, that would be sooo interesting and relatable to look at. plus id love to see them struggle w the whole 'am i even a proper indian???' conflict.

idk if you meant to continue your thoughts but yes you basically stole all the arguments in my head and put them into better words than i could've lol. i would also love to see desi annabeth cuz of similar reasons as jason, such as how she's constantly seen as a leader and she feels she really needs to live up to those expectations.

[zeta-in-de-walls]

Tommy and the role of ‘hero’

Hey, this little essay is discussing how Tommy’s character has struggled with being called a hero and hows it’s been a significant part of his character arc for Season 2 of the SMP. It’s not a title he ever gave himself yet it’s a title he’s burdened with all the same. 

Funnily enough, I don’t recall Tommy ever being called a hero before Technoblade’s damning speech on Nov 16th, where he compared Tommy to Theseus. 

Tommy you just did a coup. You just did a hostile Government takeover and then immediately instilled yourself as President. And then you gave it to your friend but that’s still a tyrant Tommy.

But the thing about this world Tommy, is that good things don’t happen to heroes. Let me tell you a story Tommy, a story of a man called Theseus. His country, well his City-State technically, was in danger and he sent himself forward into enemy lines. He slayed the Minotaur and saved his city. You know what they did to him Tommy? (”What did they do?”) They exiled him. He died in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes Tommy. The Greeks knew the score. But if you want to be a hero Tommy, that’s fine. 

Do you want to be a hero, Tommy? Then die like one!

Technoblade’s speech is a frustrating one at first. It begins by essentially calling Tommy a power hungry tyrant despite that being far from the truth - Wilbur was the one who formed the Government and Tommy rejected power. He trusted it to Wilbur who then chose Tubbo. Schlatt wasn’t even killed by Tommy, he died of a heart attack after being abandoned by every one of his allies so it wasn’t even really much of a takeover at all and it wasn’t Tommy. Yet this speech was entirely directed at Tommy.

But the latter half is different, accusing Tommy instead of trying to be a hero who thinks he’s saving the world and that he’s doomed to have a bad end. It’s interesting as never has Tommy claimed to be much of a hero. Tommy’s always just fought for the things he cared about. Indeed his response to Techno’s speech suggests the same.

“I’m not the hero. No one’s the hero! We’ve got L’Manburg for each other.”

But of course, Techno’s words stick with him all the same. Particularly the bit about a tragic end as Tommy becomes very, very aware of his own mortality in the arcs that follow. To Techno, a hero seems to be a naive figure who tries to do good but is destined for failure and tragedy. 

But there’s another path Tommy fears even more. One that he’s witnessed firsthand. Becoming the villain.

Let’s be the bad guys. Tommy, why not? Our nation’s gone. our nation’s far behind us, Tommy. Let’s blow that motherf*cker to smithereens. Tommy, I say if we can’t have Manburg, no one - no one can have Manburg! ...L’Manburg.

This is a new era! We burn the place to the f*ckin ground, I want no crops to grow there ever again.  I want f*ckin mycelium and cobblestone, it all covered, Tommy. I want it all gone! 

Tommy, let’s be villains.

Wilbur was Tommy’s hero. He loved Wilbur dearly and wanted nothing more than to be a good right-hand to him and make him proud. But when they lost L’Manburg and were banished, Tommy saw Wilbur changing, saw him giving up home and deciding he’d rather destroy the thing they’d worked for and blow it all up. After Wilbur made this speech, Tommy argued, making it clear he was entirely against his plans. Even saying that it wasn’t the moral thing to do. He said not to give up hope, that everyone wasn’t against them and that Wilbur’s ideas were reckless. But he stayed with Wilbur and continued to support him, hoping that he could convince him to change his mind. Tommy failed. And Wilbur died.

So, the Tommy at the start of S2 just wants to go back to his old life, a simpler time where he doesn’t have to worry about L’Manburg anymore as it’s in safe hands and he can focus on his personal concerns once more - like his music discs. He doesn’t want to be a hero or a villain, he merely wants to be happy again in a world without Wilbur. 

But there’s someone else watching him. Dream. 

I think it’s no coincidence that Dream wanted Tommy exiled by his own people. I think he was deliberately trying to make Techno’s speech into a reality. Dream had become rather obsessed with Tommy and treated all their interactions like a fun game where he played the villain and Tommy, the hero. It’s not a narrative Tommy himself liked but all he could do was play along. 

Dream had him exiled and this seriously pushed Tommy to his limits. On the first day, Techno briefly visited and asked him why he was still trying and he answered that he always gets back up and he would keep on fighting Dream. But as his exile progressed he slowly lost his will to fight. Slowly Tommy stopped believing that his exile would ever come to an end and that people still cared. 

In exile Tommy had a lot of time for reflection. Here’s something Tommy says days into his exile when he’s begun to lose all hope and is starting to accept that maybe Dream’s his only friend. 

Everyone always tells me I was the- the hero of this server. The one that came and f*ckin fought Dream - the only one that ever spoke back to him. But maybe I was just... maybe this was just meant to be. 

Tommy’s got complicated feelings about being a hero. To him it means standing up to Dream, never giving up - that’s what he believed people expected of him. But in his exile, he began to give in to Dream. He begins to express how no one cares and that the only reason they ever pretended to care was when he had status - when he was part of L’Manburg. There’s this implication that he felt like people only cared about him when he was being the selfless hero. When he was trying to be selfish for once, causing trouble like he used to and wanting to focus on his personal disc war rather than on L’Manburg, he got exiled. (Of course, this is Tommy’s biased perspective not how others actually viewed him.)

Tommy eventually escaped his exile, finding renewed courage to fight against Dream. Except, he’s still scared and uncertain and feels confused about Dream. He feels lost and clings onto Technoblade for support. 

With Technoblade, Tommy starts to feel more like himself - but Techno also influences Tommy, turning him more against his friends. (I think Techno’s character genuinely thought they didn’t truly care about Tommy, likely not realising how much they had also been manipulated by Dream.) Technoblade gently encourages Tommy to be more violent and wants him to help blow up L’Manburg. 

This is where Tommy’s fear about becoming more like Wilbur come into play. Tommy did not want to become a bad guy - he’d had nightmares about it even. But in his time with Technoblade, after how helpless he’d been during his exile, being given some power lead Tommy to start lashing out more violently, he began to get more aggressive - alarmingly so even. Technoblade’s path was one of revenge, dealing with his own pain by causing others to suffer (for noble goals, fighting corruption etc I don’t want to get sidetracked though this is about Tommy). Technoblade’s presence was helpful to Tommy, helping him to get over much of his fear but he still lacked in agency and still felt lonely knowing he hadn’t made up with his friends.

Tommy finally came to his senses at the festival, where he realised he was fighting his best friend and putting his personal attachments - his discs - over Tubbo. And that was wrong. He realised he was becoming just the sort of person he didn’t want to be - he had been on the path to becoming like Wilbur. And he rejected that path. He wasn’t going to be a bad guy. Just because he was hurt didn’t justify hurting others. So he reconciled and once more committed to protecting L’Manburg, having put his personal desires aside. It seemed like he’d put himself into the role of selfless hero yet again.

And he failed. Again. 

Dream tells him how it was a fun game to him. And how their story was not over. Tommy though, had become extremely tired of it. He didn’t want to play Dream’s game. 

They meet up again. And again, Dream talks to Tommy like he’s important - like he’s the key to everything. He wants Tommy to play the role of hero and has been manipulating events for a long time to keep pushing him, to keep taking things from him. Being a hero, which Dream believes Tommy wants, simply means playing along with Dream’s narrative.

Tommy, you want to be a hero, right? You want to be the hero of the server. And every hero needs an origin story, right? Batman had his parents, Spiderman had uncle Ben, you have Tubbo, right? 

In the end, Tommy refuses to play Dream’s game anymore though. He called for help and got saved by everyone else. Then he killed Dream twice and had him locked away for good.

And once more, Tommy decided to do things for himself again. He decided to live peacefully, working on a project, talking to various people on the server and trying to avoid making waves and getting into any more conflict. It’s a good end.

He rejected Wilbur’s path and he defied Technoblade’s predictions and he didn’t lose his best friend to Dream. And now Tommy’s trying to avoid playing the role of hero anymore. It’s not a title he ever gave himself but one thrust upon him. Yet it’s one he’s keenly aware of. And one that, despite everything, he can fulfil.

Tommy’s arc has been in some respects about defying the expectations of others - but he also can’t help but fight for the things he loves. He realises his troubles were not that his friends didn’t care or that he had to play a role but that his life was being controlled by Dream and now he’s free of that. No longer is he so weighed down by expectations but when there is a sufficiently threatening enemy, he has not lost his determination to challenge it. 

[meliorist-midoriya]

to you, to the world, to my love (you’re all three)

synopsis: midoriya has always had too much love to give in a world that loved to take. you’re just hoping that he has enough left for you in the end.

pairing: midoriya izuku x reader

genre: fluff with a touch of angst

warnings: some insecurity

word count: 2.5k

notes: happy valentine’s day, everyone! this is my contribution for the pocuties server collab, based off the greek types of love, of which i had the honor of receiving izuku and decided upon agape  please help yourself to the box of chocolates they’re offering for valentine’s, there’s a wide selection of chocolates handmade by talented creators, so i’m sure you’ll find something to your taste! tbh i only managed to finish this fic because i was watching chan’s valentine’s vlive and i was in a super soft mood ;3;

extra: agápe - the ancient greek concept of selfless, universal love.

“Making his debut in the pro hero scene, Pro Hero Deku is blazing a trail straight out of UA—”

“—Pro Hero Deku solved an astounding 30 cases in the past month—”

“Deku’s popularity is skyrocketing, rivaling that of—”

“Hero Deku—”

“Deku—”

“Pro Hero Deku has swept the hero rankings to come out on top as Number 1!”

With a resolute ‘click’ of the remote, the reporters’ overlapping voices cut off as the TV screen faded away, your lonely reflection staring back at you from the blank screen. You, curled up on your empty couch, in your empty apartment with the clock striking what should have been dinner. The TV was only there in an attempt to drown out the crushing silence, the white noise—hellbent on filling the space his presence had left—was deafening.

That attempt failed.

Horribly.

If anything, it just made the sense of wrongness permeating the air even worse. 

(That TV recap of his best moments didn’t help as much as you hoped it would.)

Being alone in this apartment felt… off. As if someone had gouged out what should’ve been there, the ghost of a presence settling a chill into your bones that ran far deeper than just plain loneliness. The foreboding grief of what could be, the fear that you’d resigned yourself to the moment you agreed to follow him on this path, the selfishness gnawing at your conscience every time you saw him run out the door to save the next person, to solve the next case. 

Things like an All Might coffee mug sitting primly next to yours on the drying rack, garishly yellow “tufts” staring back at you with a cracked vengeance. (You’d apologized profusely to him that day, promising to buy him another one. He’d just smiled over his cracked cup of coffee, telling you not to worry about it for the hundredth time.)

Things like his haphazard mess of notes and scrawl spread out on the kitchen counter, the pen sitting next to the half finished page. (You’ve long since learned to leave his notes be, they’ll be tidied up once he’s done… if he’s ever truly done.)

The filled queue of movies and pile of DVDs you’d picked out together, giddy over plans to watch the next time he had a free night. (You remember pretending not to notice him trying to slip another hero documentary near the bottom of the pile, distracting you with talks of popcorn and the night that was supposed to be tonight.)

Deku. The man the world adored, clinging to his promise like a lifeline in times of need. 

Midoriya Izuku. The man you loved, who promised you the world.

“It’ll be okay, I’m here.”

His soft promise echoed both in the battlefield and in your darkest hours, a close mirror to a hero of a generation past, yet it was different. It was his own. Comforting, personal, and wholly him. The public, weak and grasping for new support, latched on to the small sliver of hope his hand offered and he just kept giving, giving, giving. It never seemed to stop, and you were scared. 

He was a man with a bleeding heart with all the love to give and more. To the civilians, to the villains, to anyone in need.

Now, you needed his promise more than ever. A reassurance whispered into reunions and the thousandth hospital visit, over fresh scars and searing kisses. A promise that he would come home. You didn’t want to think of all the times he came so, so close to breaking that promise, even before you two had made it, before you two had even promised yourselves to each other in your UA days.

You pulled the blanket a little tighter around you, staring down at your phone with no real intent in mind as you scrolled. The video playing one of his interview clips (bashfully reciting his “catchphrase,” how cute) cut his voice short as you scrolled past to move on to the next, wincing at the next tweet on your timeline. Him, battered and bloody, as he pulled a child from the aftermath of the battle he’d just won. 

You still need to wrap that new mug you got him as a gift. You still had to listen to him bounce his ideas off of you. You still had to move that hero documentary to the top of the pile. You still—

“Hero Deku saves 30 people, no casualties,” A soft murmuring of the headline shattered the silence, and you smiled to yourself, giggling at all the replies joking of how he threw himself into the fray a little more responsibly and singing their praises.

It’ll be okay.

“Ugh, those reporters are at it again.” 

At your best friend’s exasperated groan, you followed their gaze over to see— ah. 

A small swarm of reporters had worked their way into the fans crowding your boyfriend, their press badges reading every tabloid magazine on this side of the city and prying questions falling off their tongue like poison. From what you could hear over their overlapping clamoring, they were trying to dig into his private life.

Again. 

Deku, the darling of the masses, all sweet smiles and sincere words amidst his strength. Deku, the number one hero with the tightest lock on his private life, which came as a surprise to both everyone and no one.

It was a given, considering his position at the peak of hero society.

It was also a complete shock, considering his tendency to ramble into tangents that had his PR team withering.

Which seemed to help in times like these, now that you thought about it, laughing to yourself as you watched the reporters’ expressions darken in defeat the longer he continued to talk around their questions. Quite a long stretch from stiffly standing on the practice stage at UA all those years ago, frozen from nerves. You idly mused to this to yourself, taking a sip of your drink as you dragged your gaze back over to your best friend.

“Did you choose this cafe because it’s right along Izuku’s patrol route?” They stiffened, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their obvious intentions.

“Maybe, or it could’ve been just a coincidence.” The next teasing jab was halfway off your tongue when they cut you off before you could give into the urge, the words dying in your throat. “When was the last time you saw him anyway? I know you two live together but Todoroki told me he practically lives at the agency with how swamped they are. Are you okay?”

You purse your lips, staring down at the ice swirling around in your cup as you idly stirred it round. As if the sloshing liquid could whisper the answer you wish you knew.

“...Yeah.” They cocked a brow, and you took another sip to try and delay your time. “It’s not like either of us can help it. Izuku’s number one, so this was bound to happen.”

(The clamoring from the reporters grew ever louder. Persistent, that bunch.)

Their expectant (doubting) gaze was met with your own steady one, and you smiled. Whether it was out of consolation or resignation was anyone’s guess.

“We’re okay, I promise.”

You should really be getting to sleep. 

Really, you should.

At least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past several hours, tossing and turning in your bed with nothing but winter-cold sheets and a gnawing loneliness to keep you company. You know you should be sleeping when the clock on the bedside table reads an ungodly hour and there was work to be done in the morning. You know you should be sleeping when the moon disappears from the night sky and leaves you with nothing but the city lights to dimly illuminate the dark room.

You really know you should be sleeping when you hear the front door click open, Izuku shuffling around the apartment to get ready for whatever minimal amount of sleep he’d get before he had to be up and running soon after.

Despite this, sleep still refuses to come, and you don’t bother pretending to be asleep when he slides into bed next to you. Instead, you turn over and curl into his chest, stifling the guilt that bubbles up when he jumps in surprise.

“Something keeping you up?” Oh, he sounds so tired, and part of you wishes you could just make it all go away. The weight of the world rests heavy on his shoulders, and deep down, you wonder if you’re part of that burden. You curl a little closer, as if trying to smother the thoughts that crashed upon you, spilling over the crack in the dam that only widened the more you spoke.

“Jus’ a little lonely, is all.” Your voice is too quiet, brittle, and you pray to every deity that would listen that he would drop it. That he wouldn’t take on yet another burden when he was already carrying Altas’s share of the world.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Of course, the gods are hardly ever so merciful—to them you are just another wishful mortal in the realm of the holy and damned—and Izuku’s hand rests on your cheek with a tenderness that makes you want to cry.

“...Why?” 

The confusion that falls over his expression (gaunt, tired, and God, should you even be doing this right now?) is immediate, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze with yours, like he could find the answer in city lights dancing over your face. His thumb strokes soft patterns over your cheek—as if brushing off the layers you’d built to protect your soul—and you lean into his soft touch with a sigh.

“Why what?”

The words spill from your lips unbidden, your hesitations softened by the comfort of his touch, the sudden drowsiness, and the emotion that near overwhelms you.

“Why do you still try to do everything yourself? When there’s so many people out there, ready to support you?” His breath hitches in shock, but it’s too late to go back now. You reach up to hold the hand cradling your cheek, distantly remembering a time when he was too insecure of his scarred and crooked hands to even hold your hand.

He’s come a long way, indeed.

“I love you, Izuku. I just don’t know if that can hold up against your love for the world.” 

Something in his gaze softens, to your surprise. His smile is even softer.

“What would you do if you’re both?”

“Wh— Izuku—”

He continues, and you listen, raptured by his words spoken into the glow of the blue hour.

“Yes, I know that at the end of the day, peace and safety has to come first, but—” His smile widens into something bashful, a smile that never failed to send butterflies scattering through your heart. “—who says you can’t be right along with them?” 

He bumped his forehead with yours, smiling emerald eyes gazing into your own with such love—dizzying and overpowering and so, so warm. With the steady thrum of your heartbeat matching his, you found yourself falling even deeper once again.

“You know me, I can never compromise when it comes to what’s important to me.”

You laugh, something watery, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, temple, cheek, with a last, smiling kiss on your lips.

“How greedy.” He laughs into your lips, pulling away to hold you closer.

“Just for you.”

There’s so many things you could’ve said, as you watched the rest of the night sky fade into the deep blues of dawn. But, you decide, the comforting silence was best left as is, only broken by one resounding comfort.

It’ll be okay.

“You know, it would’ve been nice to know that you had taken the day off before I had that whole guilt spiral last night.”

“It turned out okay though, didn’t it?” He turned back to flash you that cheeky grin of his, half-hidden by his winter coat and backed by the glow of the setting sun. You just rolled your eyes with a laugh before jogging to catch up to him, slipping you hand out of your pocket to interlace your fingers with his.

“Yeah, it did.” 

The walk was silent as you two strolled down the familiar path, winding down after a whole day spent with each other. It was romantic of him, now that you thought about it, to take the whole Valentine’s Day off just for you. You hummed as you leaned onto him, giddy and content at the thought. 

In love, if you were to be so bold.

(Granted, he had to wear a mask and a cap the entire time to hide from the prying eyes of the public, but you made do.)

The sight of aged, familiar scenery pulled you from your musings, and you tugged at his hand to grab his attention, pointing at the quaint bench surrounded by bare gingko trees.

“Hey, wasn’t this the park where you confessed?” At your words, he froze and glanced over at the familiar scenery, eventually burying his face into his free hand with a groan once the old memories clicked in his head.

“Oh, don’t remind me. It’s still embarrassing to look back on.”

“What? I thought you were cute!” You laughed, nudging him to follow as you led him over to the small park, brushing off the dust to sit on the bench before patting the space next to you. Izuku obliged, and you almost automatically curled into his side, as if by habit.

“Did we really walk all the way here from the station?” His disbelieving tone made you look up at him, his expression one of nostalgic awe, before casting your attention back to the aged scenery, humming in agreement as you idly picked out what’s changed and what’s stayed in the years that have passed.

“I guess we never really forget, huh?”

“I forgot the sunset looked the best from here.”

“I hope you didn’t forget all the memories we made here.” He tore his attention from the sunset to gape down at you, scandalized.

“Of course not!” 

“Really?” He arched a brow at the teasing lilt to your voice and the mischievous grin playing at your lips, “So you didn’t forget accidentally firing an Air Force shot at me when we first met because you were training?”

He buried his face in his hands again with another embarrassed groan.

“I hoped you would forget that, at least!” You just laughed, hugging him closer as if to console him from your teasing. Before long, the atmosphere settled back into a quiet reminiscence, indulging in the nostalgia of memories past in this little park. The silence that was once deafening alone, now softened by the comfort of his presence at your side.

“We’ve made so many memories in this park, huh?” At your soft hum of agreement, he continued. Was his voice shaking? “It wouldn’t hurt to make more, would it?”

“What do you me—”

Your question cut itself short as you saw what he held out to you. 

A little velvet box, sitting open in his hand. You dragged your suddenly watery gaze back up to Izuku, his once bashful smile now wobbly with nerves. 

So familiar in this little park, yet so new.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

It was just a small walk down memory lane, the street lights blinking on one by one in the wake of the fiery sunset as you two walked the familiar path together. Yet there was something buzzing anew in the air, humming through your soul as you held out your hand to the sun, admiring the way the gem on your ring finger sparkled in the fading sunset. In the other, you interlaced your fingers with his.

Yeah… 

You caught Izuku’s soft gaze, smiling and in love.

We’ll be okay.

[yandere-sins]

The Exception

My friend let me try playing Hades on her switch and well... I kinda liked it. Namely, I liked all the characters, so my brain went like “what if they were yandere” and I had an idea for this story that I threw together this morning before working on the Fox Wedding (: The latter isn’t done yet, but this sure is, so who knows, mayhaps some of you will enjoy it! Just tried to answer the question how we could get Thanatos to whisk us away.

Characters: Yandere!Thanatos x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Blood, War, Wounds/Impaling, Major Character Death (???) or well dying, I read into greek history for almost an hour but if I gotten something wrong then so be it

Thanatos had seen enough of the world to know that he didn't want to stay on the surface forever. 

The current battle spreading before him was a mere reason to sigh deeply as he watched bodies fall left and right, their souls soon leaving to a better, or perhaps worse, place. It was mandatory he stayed, but Thanatos was well aware of which side was winning and which was losing. It was his duty and his work to know these things, even though it didn't make the fighting any less futile in his eyes.

Letting his gaze wander over the battlefield, he watched the red splatters on the ground, heard the crushing sounds of iron against iron and the cacophony of fearful and devastating screams. He still couldn't believe Zagreus would want to come to such a place. A place where there was futile fighting and too much light, but perhaps, it was a world that fit the Prince of the Underworld, as he was the same, even if Thanatos only recognized this fact bitterly. 

Finally, the battle was closing in on its end, just like the hundreds of people that found their death because of it. The ones who weren't dead yet slowly but surely started to hesitate and retreat. Even as the personification of death, Thanatos reckoned that a pointless death was scary, even though so many humans chose it over desertion. Their death was inevitable, preordained by Thanatos sisters. Still, he had seen many hold on to the last sparks of hope that they could escape Thanatos' grasp. 

And then, on the other side of the coin, were those that practically would have offered their life to Hades and fought to the end.

You weren't an exception. Yes, your quest and pride were your downfall, and by the gleam in your eyes Thanatos could tell you knew. You knew and recognized that you'd die. However, as if you were spiting him personally, you still continued to fight ahead of everyone else, gaining questioning glances from your comrades and contempt from your enemies, which you pulled to the ground one after another and sending them to hell. 

Many before you had this overzealous compulsion to make that best out of their inevitable demise. Thanatos would admit that yes, most had a good reason for it, like saving their family or fighting for their own life. Others simply lucked out on the gift of pride and ignorance, forcing themselves and occasionally many more lives with them into the deep, dark pits of death. 

What was your reason? Thanatos wondered. 

He still had time before he needed to take action, he could allow himself a short - minuscule, really - different thought than his upcoming work, and you presented yourself so nicely to him as the incarnation of death waited for the end of today's battle. It wasn't often that he had the leisure to let his thoughts wander, so Thanatos intended to use these few seconds, which would fall under the radar, to still his curiosity.

By the looks of it, you weren't an inexperienced fighter. Or perhaps, you were just a farmer judging by your muscles. Surely, you seemed enthusiastic about your task, so were you fighting for something more significant than the glory of your country? Family? A loved one? Thanatos couldn't help but be curious about what your drive was, as he had seen so many reasons, yet they were all the same. Perhaps, yours was new?

Even so, you were graceful as you swung your sword around. What did he know about footwork, but at least, yours seemed to pay off as you weren't dead yet. When one of your foes managed to smack off your helmet, Thanatos believed that was it, but alas, you regained your strength, charging at the very same attacker. 

In a way, fighting was like an elaborate play. The only difference was that neither of the parties knew the other one's move. The person reacting better was the winner. He couldn't find joy in watching wars, but even Thanatos had to admit that it was a joy watching you. Even if you lacked the enthusiasm as the heroic shades that lingered below, like Theseus, had, you fought a fight worth mentioning in the books as well. 

Every move you made, Thanatos could see the calculations in your eyes, that keen shine reflecting in them. The sun seemed to break through the clouds just to reach out to you, making your armor sparkle in its rays. Yes, you were a formidable human, and Thanatos caught himself thinking that it was a shame you were fighting even if you looked so beautifully while doing it. 

Taking another deep breath, he could see the swirls in the air left by it. While the winter wasn't affecting him, no matter how little clothes he wore, Thanatos felt a second of pitiful understanding for everyone who had to fight in those conditions. Undoubtedly, the cold armors, freezing hands and weapons, and frozen ground were another nemesis for every soldier out here. Even if their bodies stayed warm from adrenaline and running, it certainly was another reason many of your human bodies gave out quicker, merely submitting to their fate. It was fair enough for Thanatos. It meant his work was over faster, and judging by you being circled and the other soldiers at your side beginning to see the end coming towards them with long spears and sharp swords, it was all over soon. 

You had fought bravely, that much he could give you. Perhaps you had impressed him enough to put in an unusual good word for you with Hypnos, who'd pass it on to Hades himself, granting you a shot on being put into Elysium. But your fate had long been decided, and as you fell to the ground, the battlefield erupted in victorious screams, announcing your time of death. 

And also, his start of work. 

As the winners retreated one after one, happy whenever they found a friend that survived too, Thanatos passed by them and onto the battlefield instead. Unseen by the human eye, he began his duty of reaping, one soul after the other, as mangled and frustrated over their death as they were, following his orders as he shushed them away. Usually, some pleaded and bargained with him for another shot of life, but even if Thanatos had wanted, there was no way for him to help them. But that day, everyone seemed awfully aware that there was no negotiating nor mercy waiting for them as they looked at his figure, frightened and frustrated. A pointless battle, with meaningless deaths, brought forth the self-pity in them, but this wasn't the first battle Thanatos tended to, so he felt nothing akin to that. It also wasn't his duty to take care of the souls gathered here, as it was Hermes' job to lead to them. 

He had something very different on his agenda. You. 

It was unfortunate for both of you, but when he reached you, you had yet to breathe your last breath. One eye slowly and in pain, opened, the other one damaged from the blow to the head you had received. However, as you looked at him, serene clarity laid in your gaze, and you recognized him, mayhaps by the giant scythe he carried around. Your stare was clear and less afraid than he expected you to be when acknowledging him, but you closed your eyes as a cough overcame you, hot, red blood dripping down your lips. 

"Guess that's it," you croaked, and Thanatos could only stare. Conversing… wasn't his strong suit, and there wasn't exactly a reason to talk to you.

"Are you going to kill me?" you continued, undeterred by his silence, and Thanatos weighed his actions. "No, of course not," he eventually spoke, shaking his head slowly, the hood on his head shifting along to his movement. 

"Ouch, that's cruel. You'll just wait until I die like this?" 

Your words were nothing he hadn't heard before, and he didn't feel offended by them. However, he didn't expect your lips to briefly curl into a smile, adding a jesting notion to what you said. Even that wasn't new, but… it struck a chord inside the usual stoic bringer of death. "I can't end your suffering," Thanatos explained, hoping you'd simply know about the unspoken rule that he couldn't harm you. 

"I think, I get it," you heaved, feeling worse by the minute. "You are just making sure I know I am supposed to die here."

That assumption wasn't wrong, even though there had been more playing into his service than just that. Too many kept trying to escape their fate, and sort of, Thanatos was just checking and cleaning up what would be left. You still had some time before your organs would fail and finally take you to the grave, different from the other souls that were already leaving for their new home. 

"No, you will die here," he retorted firmly. 

"I could," you chuckled, followed by another painful cough. 

"Don't test me, Mortal."

In between deep breaths, you allowed yourself a short laugh. Just like him, you were probably aware that there was nothing worse that could happen to your situation, so his threat was just a way he hoped to shut you up with. In silence, he watched over you, until eventually, your eye opened up again. This time your gaze was searching for him - or something really - but your sight had already begun to cloud. No matter how proud and achieved you are in life, in the face of death, everyone looked the same.

 "I think I did a good job. You know, fighting. Thought that if I already had to do it, I might as well give it my damn best."

More coughing. Thanatos watched the puddle of blood around you grow by the second. The spear inside your body must have been stirring up your insides the more you talked. Thanatos had expected something like this, you, young as you still were, had been led by the belief that doing your best could make up for the fact that you'd die. "But in the end, it was worth nothing, right? We lost after all."

Thanatos could only stare as he wondered what you expected him to say. He came here, knowing your life would end here, so really, the hope you had put into yourself didn't have the same disappointment to him now as it did to you. And yet, as he listened to you, seeing your body battered up with cuts and bruises, for the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to pity for you, and you specifically.

"Why did you fight then?" he asked, perhaps against your expectations. 

"Why? Because they told us too. The King ordered us to fight this battle, and only he could have known how many soldiers our opponent would bring."

"You could have run." Thanatos tried to stay as detached from you as possible, though it didn't quite work, your words taking their influence on him. "Can you?" you retorted before letting out a long sigh. Death was near, literally as well as figuratively. 

"Can you run from your duties? You don't have to do this either, do you?" 

"I do--"

"Really?"

There was no immediate response this time, your question justified, despite your little mortal soul undoubtedly never understanding the burdens on the shoulders of Gods. The world would stop if they all decided to not continue their work and fulfill their duties and expectations. If Thanatos stopped, no one would die anymore, and but the suffering of everything would never disappear too. 

"Dying sucks," you whispered, turning your head away. 

"I reckon," he muttered indifferently. Not like he could talk about it from experience. It must be painful, dreadful, and, depending on the circumstances, frustrating too. Right now, though he couldn't imagine the extent, you must have felt so hopeless and so, so scared. There wasn't much other reason for your banter.

"Thanatos… I always thought it was a pretty name, even if everyone feared it." Regaining his attention after finding himself momentarily lost in thoughts, he looked down at you again, watching as your eyelid closed slowly. "Say what you want, but you can't blame them for fearing death, and alas, me."

"Perhaps if they talked to you, they wouldn't be so afraid."

"Meaning you don't feel so afraid anymore?"

A smile danced over your lips once more, a truly unusual sight for a soul so close to their end, and especially after talking to him. Hypnos often teased Thanatos with being too formal and dutiful to be amusing, and Hades beware, comforting. Though he didn't care for his twin's words, yours did make him feel... happy. 

"Let's go then," you whispered, and Thanatos kneeled down, his hand falling to your wrist, listening to your pulse. Even with the feeling of your heart still desperately pumping blood through your body, only to lose it through your wounds, you didn't utter another word afterwards. You undoubtedly were dying, but perhaps, for now, you were merely unconscious as your lungs didn't stop reaching for air, and your heart used all your strength to function. 

Once more, the sun broke through the clouds, shining down right at you two, bringing Thanatos into the predicament of being blinded as it reflected off your armor. Perhaps he understood it now. Understood how unfair it was that someone like you, innocent and kind, was doomed to die out here. How awful his job on this day was, forcing him to take you to Tartarus and put you before the judgment of the god residing there. 

So what if... he didn't. 

He couldn't heal your wounds, nor make you feel better. But what he could do is battle the fate, earn the scorn of many, but at least, even if he took out the spear from your bloody body, you'd live. You'd live to tell your tale, and who knew, even he could apply some bandages, so maybe you'd recover some. 

It was a risk, and one Thanatos did not like taking, nor found pleasure in executing. But you couldn't refuse to come to this battle, whereas he, perhaps, after all these years, could refuse to do his job once. For your sake, and unbeknownst to him at that time, for his own even more.

His scythe disappeared in favor of Thanatos grabbing for the dreadful spear. Never before had he experience the kind of sound a wound could make from so close, and by the gods, he hoped he never would again. It was just your luck that you were unconscious, or the pain would have perhaps killed you faster than your wounds.

Leaning down, he scooped you up, his hand sullied with your blood and the dirt on the ground. The snow wasn't cold when he touched it, but your body was warm in his arms and still alive. Your threat of fade wasn't cut yet, and he wouldn't do it. With you in his arms, he stepped back, looking into your sleeping face before he retreated from the battlefield with a quiet, "Let's go."

No, the surface wasn't a place Thanatos liked to linger. It was too loud, too wrong, and too bright. But to see your smile, lively and happy, one more time, he didn't need to stay above ground. Where you were going, it was dark and, at times, lonely if you weren't a being born there. But you'd also be safe and alive for as long as you wished to.

And Thanatos would be with you, even if everyone would turn against him and his decision, for all eternity if he must.

[taelme]

Enemies-to-lovers!(demigod)Hyunjin

request: Hey :) I just really want to read something about Hyunjin if that's fine with you. I'm kind of a sucker for this whole enemies to lovers thing too lol but it would also be super cool if it could be something with fantasy. I don't really know 😅 I think if you're going to write it it would be good anyway. genre: enemies-to-lovers!au (kind of, i feel like it wasnt that extreme but more of a dislike-to-lovers lol), demigod!au (fluff, slight angst? its rly not much, a lot of confusion on reader’s part) pairing/s: Hyunjin / Reader (fem) (ft some skz, nct and got7 members!) word count: 18k+ tw: mentions of blood and (sword)fighting a/n: thank you to anon for being so patient again...its really taken me really long to think of something for this haha i kind of wanted to tap on Hyunjin’s like personality a little more for this like the side of him that’s very like in tune with his emotions or whatnot but idk if i emphasised that a lot but thats just a fun fact lol anyway there was a whole lot of thought exposition in this but this was very much a mix of information based off my existing knowledge of greek gods and the percy jackson series but i hope i explained it clearly enough so even if you’re not familiar with it you won’t be too confused while reading! 

You wondered if you should’ve been scared when you’d awoken to the sound of your friend Jeongin waltzing into your cabin, the echo of ‘​love is a many splendored thing​’ coming from his lips as he meandered his way around the much more intimidating daughters of ​Ares​ in your room.

“Didn’t know they still allowed you in here,” you huffed, rolling your eyes but not without the small smile playing at your lips as you rolled over, sighing into your pillow and making space for Jeongin to flop belly-down onto your bed.

Ignoring your comment (not without sticking his tongue out at you for good measure), Jeongin’s smile had only grown as he supported his head with his hands.

You huffed, bringing a hand up to rub at your eyes, not being able to find it in you to be annoyed that he’d interrupted your sleep, “are you just gonna smile at me or are you gonna ​actually​ tell me what happened?”

Jeongin wrinkled his nose slightly, “guess,” he whispered.

“You...” you frowned, rolling over onto your back, hugging your pillow closer to your head, your eyebrows knitting into a thoughtful frown, “finished your painting?”

Shaking his head, Jeongin hummed, “​better​.”

“Better?” you echoed, “did you get elected for something... or something?” you yawned, trying your luck at this point, having close to no idea what he was so smiley about.

Jeongin rolled his eyes, though his grin remained, a small giggle leaving him, “give up?”

You nodded, “yeah, give up.”

“​Someone​’​s​ back in the ​Poseidon​ cabin for the summer.”

You figured you might as well milk it while you could, pretending to not know who Jeongin was referring to as you pouted, “Who? Chan?”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, ​again​, “don’t play dumb, you know who i’m talking about.”

You sighed, stretching your arms out above your head, dumping your act of ignorance (acting was never your strong suit anyway), “and what do you expect me to do about that?”

“​You​ don’t have to do anything, technically,” Jeongin shrugged, “he’ll probably approach you first.”

You made a face, not liking Jeongin’s implication at all.

Jaehyun​ was just a friend you’d made from a few years before. Sure, he was friendly, and Jeongin did always point out the fact that he’d always somehow end up in the same area as the both of you, but you never read into it, having never felt anything romantic towards him at all in your time knowing him. After all, even if you wanted to, the last you heard (if the Aphrodite sisters were to be trusted for gossip) was that he had a girlfriend back home.

“Not funny, Jeongin.”

Jeongin scoffed, “who said I was trying to be funny?” he tried, failing to hold his expression of feigned offence as a bout of giggles escaped him, “okay, fine, maybe I was, but still, you have to admit that you know it’s gonna happen at one point.”

“What’s gonna happen?” you said with a scoff, sitting up in your bed as you let out another yawn.

Jeongin narrowed his eyes at you, “you know what i’m talking about,” he shrugged, making you groan. Trust him to be ​specific.​

Getting out of bed, you brought a hand up to rub your shoulder, rolling your shoulders back with a wince, “I didn’t think he was gonna come back, honestly.”

Jeongin shook his head insistently, “think about it, if he already graduated... he’s probably only back because...” Jeongin gestured towards you, his eyes wide and full of implication.

“Shut up, Jeongin,” you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you in spite of the part of you that was very much averse to his implication.

“Anyway, what are your plans later?” you asked him, eager to divert his attention elsewhere, earning a long hum from him.

You turned to see him fiddling with the corner of your bed sheet, frowning at the faint sound of rock music he could hear coming from the other rooms.

“Haven’t decided,” he sighed deeply, “might go back and finish up my painting... you?” You’d walked around your bed, “probably go and train or something,” you shrugged.

Jeongin made it a point to yawn loudly, “shouldn’t have expected anything else. Why don’t you join me one of these days after the game’s over?”

“Yeah, of course I will, I just wanna get... used to it before the game. It’s been ​ages​ since I touched my sword,” you made to pick up your things to freshen up, Jeongin deciding that would be his cue to leave, bidding you goodbye (but not without a smothering hug).

Don’t get you wrong, you were ​thankful​ for Jeongin. A son of Hebe, he’d been at the camp longer than you had, and he’d taken the liberty of befriending you after a particularly amusing run-in during a game the previous summer where you’d accidentally torn a hole in his pants with your sword at a pretty unfavourable area.

Not to mention how the boy was one of the few that dared to tread within ​Ares​ grounds. Being the son of the goddess of​ youth,​ you should’ve figured it was natural for him to be so personable to others (not to mention the fascinating way he looked so ​youthful​), but you were thankful for it nonetheless. Not many people considered it a ​want​ to look past the barbed wire and screaming red motifs that seemed to surround the children of the god of ​war.​

Though a part of you wished you could’ve joined Jeongin for a peaceful morning doing art while overlooking the lake, you were a little glad you didn’t, because as you sparred, you remembered just what felt so freeing about being in the field, a sense of anticipation building within you as you thought about the first capture-the-flag game of the summer coming up in a few days.

“Did you hear?” Yuta, another son of Ares, had asked you while the both of you practiced your archery.

You sighed, rolling your neck back before narrowing your eyes at the target again, “hear what?”

“Wait, look, look there, the new ​Aphrodite​ kid. Heard he was claimed a few days ago,” Yuta nodding his head towards the direction of the mess hall, and you spotted a small group of boys and girls making their way towards the mess hall.

It wasn’t hard to tell they were Aphrodite’s children, from the way they dressed so elegantly, to the way they carried themselves, as if nothing in the world could shake them or put a single hair out of place.

Something about the effortless nature of it all seemed so ​unreal​ to you, especially since you were stood there with your flyaway hair sticking out no matter how much you tried to keep it in place.

“Can’t say I didn’t see it coming, something about him was always more... ​mesmerising​,” Yuta continued, with yourself busy observing the group of them.

“That one? Wasn’t he already here for a while already?” you gestured to one of them who was walking in the middle, rolling the sleeves of their shirt to their elbows with a sheer grace you couldn’t understand, his hair slightly longer than you’d remembered seeing it the previous summer.

Hyunjin was his name, if you remembered what Jeongin said correctly. Who were you kidding, ​of course you remembered​.

The daughters of Ares in your bunk talked about him all the time, even if they didn’t show it. Almost every day you’d hear new things about him, as if it was your daily dose of the ​news​. Something about him being a dancer, or something about a song he was listening to, even what movie he watched recently, none of which you bothered to actually commit to memory like they did.

Widely admired,​ was the term to describe it. You guessed you could understand why, his looks were pleasing to the eye, but there wasn’t much else you could draw from his personality, so you figured that was it for you. After seeing his sisters, and how... ​lovely​ they could be at times, you didn’t think there was much else to figure out.

“No, ​idiot,​ the other one walking at the front, he’s basically ​glowing​,” Yuta clicked his tongue in annoyance, and your eyes had landed on the boy, shorter and definitely younger than Hyunjin, but no less beautiful. Looking even closer, you realised he ​was​ glowing, unmistakably a very Aphrodite​ way of claiming him as her son.

You frowned, turning back to Yuta, “that’s a lot prettier than how Ares claimed us, isn’t it?” you laughed, “why are you so interested anyway? It’s not the first time you’re seeing someone get claimed,” you dismissed him, drawing another arrow and firing it at the target, a small smile of satisfaction on your face when it hit the center.

Yuta shrugged, his hand coming up to flick his hair away from his eyes, “dunno, just thought it was cool. Since that means he’ll be on our side for the games too,” he explained, clearly having abandoned his archery practice with the way he’d let his bow hang loose next to his side, swinging it as he stood next to you with a hand on his hip.

“I don’t have very high hopes for that,” you murmured, shooting another arrow at the target, Yuta letting out an impressed low whistle at the thud, “they don’t strike me as the... fighting type.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, “are you done soon? I’m hungry,” he frowned, “and by the way, I'd be careful what I say about Aphrodite’s kids.”

You flashed him a tight-lipped smile, sceptical about his insistence, “what are they gonna do, smolder​ me to death?”

Yuta rolled his eyes, a scoff leaving him, “well they probably ​could.​ Look, if anything, I'm more afraid of their powers than ​Poseidon’s​ kids.”

You couldn’t help yourself from the face you made at the mention of the water-wielding demigods, earning a small grunt of amusement from Yuta, only then realising what he could’ve gotten from your expression.

About to interject, Yuta had continued, “I’m guessing you heard Jaehyun’s back?”

You sighed deeply, recalling your conversation with Jeongin that morning, nodding as you made your way back to the Ares cabins with Yuta strolling calmly next to you. Keeping your footsteps brisk, you dumped your armour onto the floor next to your bunk while Yuta did so with his as well, meeting him back at the door and leaving the cabin just as quickly as you came, still having not found an answer to Yuta’s question.

Though as you were busy forming a response to him, you felt yourself getting annoyed, or heavily​ annoyed for that matter, turning to Yuta with a scowl.

“Stop doing that,” you scolded him, making him raise his hands in a shrug, feigning nonchalance.

“What? You didn’t answer my question,” he defended, making you narrow your eyes at him, relieved when the feelings of anger and annoyance had diffused out of you within a matter of seconds.

“Thank you,” you sighed.

If you had to choose, that was one of your least favourite amongst Ares’ ​gifts.​ Sure, being skilled at fighting and the strength you had was a pro, of course. But being able to manipulate someone’s feelings of rage and fear was ​not​ something you found very necessary.

Unless you were Yuta, of course, and used it for the sake of getting someone’s attention.

“Why does everyone keep telling me about Jaehyun?” you blurted eventually, making Yuta shoot you a pointed look.

“He’s a ​legend,​ it’s basically our ​duty​ to talk about him,” Yuta snickered, grabbing your hand to pull you towards the mess hall as if deciding that your speed wasn’t fast enough for him.

“What’s so exciting about him?” you scoffed, letting Yuta lead you to a table where you saw your friends already seated, not missing the way Yuta had shoved you aside with his hip in his attempt to be seated closer to Ten, one of the sons of Aphrodite.

Seeming to have forgotten about Jaehyun, Yuta had focused on his conversation with Ten, leaving you to eat in peace.

“Hey, just came from practice?” you heard Seungmin ask you, taking a seat facing you while you tried to ignore the way Hyunjin had taken a seat next to Ten at the same time, his proximity making it harder for you ​not​ to look at him.

Turning to the said son of Athena, you nodded (albeit distractedly), earning a soft smile from him, “same here. Are you excited?”

Assuming he was referring to the games, you offered him a small shrug, “I guess, kind of curious to see how the new Ares kids handle it,” you tried your best to remain nonchalant even though you could hear Yuta asking the newer Aphrodite kid what he liked about being one of Aphrodite’s sons.

Seungmin nodded thoughtfully, “yeah, I saw some of them just now at the arena, but I doubt you’d have to worry, you could take half the Hermes kids on your own,” Seungmin laughed, making you wave him off.

Seungmin had seemed to find Ten and Yuta’s discussion interesting as well, turning his head to listen in as you brought your cup to your lips, frowning as you tried to pick up on what they were talking about.

You couldn’t help yourself from letting your gaze flicker between Ten and Hyunjin, hearing Ten cut in and explain something about acting cute and effortlessly getting people to do what you want them to do, all while you saw Hyunjin turning to ask one of Apollo’s daughters next to him if she had a tissue, the girl seeming almost ​compelled​ as she stood up and made her way to the far end of the table to grab a small packet of tissues for Hyunjin.

You had to refrain from scoffing, turning back to Ten with a sweet smile, your tone as lighthearted as it could be, “guess people just do things for you if you’re ​pretty,​ right?”

Ten seemed to have no qualms in agreeing with you, nodding at you with a smirk, “exactly.”

Hyunjin heard you of course, not knowing if that was a hint of spitefulness he detected in your tone, and you didn’t miss the way he’d looked up to meet your eyes, something about his gaze almost making it hard for you to look away, but you did. Scanning your attire, Hyunjin couldn’t help the small huff that left his lips.

Daughter of Ares​, he should’ve figured ​abrasive​ words would’ve come with the package.

Deciding to dismiss it, Hyunjin turned back to Chan who was seated in front of him, rejoining whatever conversation they were having about swimming in the lake with ease. He would just forget about it, it wasn’t like picking a fight with the ​war​ god’s child was part of his agenda for the day.

Well, of course, that was until the time came to play capture-the-flag and Hyunjin found himself so ​unfortunately​ partnered with you to guard the flag. ​He should’ve just stayed with his sisters to cheer on the players.

You didn’t try to hide the fact that you were displeased, shooting a wide-eyed look at your Head Counselor Jaebum, who had simply dismissed you with a wave when you’d pulled him aside with a very annoyed glare on your face.

“Why can’t I guard with Yuta? I thought Aphrodite wasn’t playing,” you murmured harshly, fixing your armour roughly as you gripped the handle of your sword tightly, your heart sinking when you saw the way Jaebum had simply smiled, reaching his hand out to shove your helmet onto your head, flicking the red hairs that stuck out from the top with a laugh.

“There’s no time for you to complain, trust me, Hyunjin’s good,” he dismissed your hesitance, waving you off as he began to head elsewhere with the rest, “you’d better guard it properly,” he warned before leaving with the rest, the clinking of their shields against their armour growing softer the further they went.

Grabbing the flag from the floor with a huff, you’d started heading towards the lake, shoving the flag harshly through the pebbles to secure it in the ground, a small huff of annoyance leaving you as you squinted up at the sky, the summer heat annoying you even more.

Not being able to find it in you to relax, especially with the knowledge that Hyunjin was here, you paced around the flag, your hand placed protectively above your scabbard, the other hand on your hip as you eyed your surroundings.

Hyunjin on the other hand, seemed unaffected, and you heard the rustling of the pebbles as he sat down, his sword next to him and his hands behind him supporting his weight. To anyone else, he would’ve looked completely at ease, his head lifted to face the sky, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the warmth. 

Though his ease didn’t last for long, the constant crunching of the pebbles and the annoyed scoffs that left your lips every now and then drawing his attention back to you.

Hyunjin never really liked ​Ares​, he momentarily wondered if you were similar in the aspects he disliked as well, since the behaviour you were displaying right now was very...​not​ typical of an Ares.

“Are all Ares demigods as high-strung as you?” Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, “your pacing’s gonna give us away.”

Your head whipped around quickly, scoffing at him, “yeah, well, excuse me for feeling responsible for the flag,” you huffed.

Hyunjin didn’t understand why you took the games so seriously, (frankly you didn’t either), but you both figured it was the streak of Ares in you that made you feel competitive, but nonetheless, Hyunjin wasn’t amused.

“It’s not just ​your responsibility, you know. Jaebum literally asked me to guard it with you.”

You let out a half-hearted laugh, your words coming out in choppy bursts as if there were a million other things in your head that were fighting to be said, “yeah, well, I guess you could say that’s why i’m even more on edge.”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes at you, wanting you to look in his direction but you didn’t seem to be giving him the time of day, your eyes still searching the woods in front of you for any sign of someone else.

“Look,” Hyunjin felt himself growing annoyed, “I don’t know what you have against me but now’s not exactly the time to be angry at ​me​.”

You hadn’t realised, but your agitated state had been unconsciously manipulating Hyunjin’s feelings, making him more annoyed the more he saw you pace.

“Jaebum’s being stupid. He shouldn’t have put you here with me,” you sighed, more to yourself than to Hyunjin.

“You don’t trust me,” Hyunjin murmured, his tone giving away his surprise (or lack thereof), already moving to stand up, dusting the dirt off of his pants as he kept his gaze fixed on you.

You turned to face him, unaffected by his presence unlike the other day, now, Hyunjin noticed your gaze was much firmer.

“Yes, I don’t,” you told him, “forgive me for saying this but, you and your siblings don't necessarily have a very good track record when it comes to combat.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, “​yeah, well,​ ” he mimicked your tone from before, “​brute force​ isn’t the only way you can win, you know.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering for a moment what exactly were the gifts that aphrodite had bestowed on her children to warrant such confidence from Hyunjin. You figured he was just trying to divert your attention from the fact that they really weren’t one to fight.

“So, i’m right? You don’t fight?”

You wouldn’t usually have been so... ​annoying,​ maybe it was your annoyance at Jaebum making itself known to Hyunjin, and in turn making Hyunjin annoyed at you as well.

Hyunjin took a small step closer to you, holding himself at arms length as he got a good look at your eyes.

Pretty, you thought, but probably not what you should’ve been focusing on at the moment.

And you really shouldn’t have, because you surely hadn’t expected Hyunjin to pull his sword from where it was on the ground abruptly, pointing it right at your throat, the slightest of smiles on his face, almost as if he was curious to see if you’d really lived up to what people said about you.

“I don’t know who you heard that from,” Hyunjin had an amused smirk on his face, something about him wanting to prove himself to you for some reason. The idea of protecting the flag already pushed to the ​far back​ of his mind.

You glanced down at the blade before you, pulling it ever so slowly out from its scabbard as you met his gaze again, something about it hardening when you could practically feel him challenging you.

There wasn’t a single sound between the both of you other than the sound of the wind blowing the trees and the lake flowing beside you. Clenching your jaw, you’d brought your sword up to push him out of the way with a grunt, seeing him dodge deftly when you swung it at his arm.

As if you weren’t already angered enough, you were shocked at how well he had been going against you, not paying much attention to what you were doing at this point, casting mindless swings and driving your elbow down on his shoulder, a small grunt leaving Hyunjin.

Swinging his sword at your back, you’d caught it with your sword, pushing back against him with as much force as you could muster, your swords coming in between the both of you, stuck there with the sheer force you were both applying.

Hyunjin had to admit that you were definitely stronger than him, almost giving up but too stubborn to do so, his other hand coming up to grab at your forearm, pushing your sword out of the way before his hand with his sword came up towards you.

Grabbing his hand quick enough, you’d shoved him away from you, bending to avoid another swing before turning, roughly bringing your sword to swing at him, hitting his chest and causing him to stumble back slightly, though what surprised you was how determined he was.

Regaining his stance quickly, as you dropped your shield angrily, he’d swung his sword just as you did, your swords colliding loudly as he brought his other hand to your hand, ripping your sword from your hand quicker than you could process and tossing it aside, his own sword coming to your throat once again, his other grand gripping onto your free hand firmly.

With how focused you were on fighting each other, the both of you hadn’t even realised Jaebum’s presence there, the said head counselor quietly observing you as Hyunjin tried to use his ​charmspeak​ on you. Being one of the (very few) children of Aphrodite that had this ability, Jaebum couldn’t help but be curious as to how this would play out.

You contemplated trying to summon your sword back, but as you were about to, he’d spoken up, distracting you.

“Pick up the flag,” he told you, in what you assumed was the most ​enchanting​ tone you’d heard from him, moreso with the way he was looking at you.

Hyunjin’s face was mere inches away from you, gripping your wrist even despite the gash you’d made on his palm, too absorbed in his motive to pay any attention to the pain. Something about his gaze had unsettled you, the pleasant smell of his perfume almost seeming out of place with the strong demeanour he was showing you now, making you curious as to what else there was about him that you were getting wrong in your head.

And he waited, he waited for your eyes to glaze over and for you to obediently walk over to the flag and pick it up without a single bit of defiance like how everyone else did. ​Except you didn’t.

His request had caught you off guard, making you furrow your eyebrows as your lips parted in confusion, “why the hell would I do that?”

Shoving his hand holding his sword away from you, you huffed, turning to see Jaebum and a few of the newer Ares and Athena kids standing there in shock. Well, at least ​most​ of them were in shock, Jaebum’s expression was all-too-amused.

Hyunjin stood, dumbfounded at the fact that his power hadn’t worked on you, turning to face Jaebum with his lips in a pout as Jaebum cleared his throat.

Ignoring the annoyed furrow to your brow, Jaebum brought a hand up to rub his exposed arm over his tattoo, “we... won...” he stopped to let a small laugh escape him, “you guys can bring the flag back.”

You huffed, moving to pick up your sword, shoving it into your scabbard, still confused at the fact that Hyunjin had just asked you to pick up the flag for no reason after what he did.

Turning back to Hyunjin, you saw him about to open his mouth, wanting to ask if you were going to take the flag with how he gestured to it.

Shaking your head as you were already making your way back, you said, “take the stupid flag, I don’t want it.”

It was only when you were with the rest in the amphitheatre did you realise Hyunjin had made an impression on you in more ways than just through surprising you.

You were making your way through the crowd to find Jeongin when you’d spotted Jaehyun, his hair messy and slightly damp with perspiration, giving you a friendly smile as he lifted his glass to you.

You saw him making his way over to you, his armour long discarded as he stood in his long sleeved t-shirt and cargo pants, pushing his hair back only to make it even messier.

“Hey, it was a good game just now, where were you?” he asked. 

“Oh, I was just guarding the flag.”

Jaehyun nodded, a hum of understanding leaving him. Bringing his cup up to his lips, his gaze darted to your arm, his eyes widening as a sharp hiss left him, “hey, that’s a pretty bad cut, how’d you get that?”

You frowned, your eyebrows raising, a hum of confusion leaving you. Only realising when Jaehyun had reached a hand out to grasp your elbow gently, lifting your arm gently to draw your attention to the gash on your arm, the blood having gotten onto your shirt without you realising.

“Oh,” you hummed, shaking your head in dismissal at Jaehyun, “no it’s fine, it doesn’t hurt. I’ll just get Jeongin to help me patch it up later.”

Jaehyun’s forehead creased slightly as his eyebrows lifted, “really? I can help you with it now, if you want,” he offered, a soft smile on his face.

Turning to look over at where Jeongin and Yuta were seated at one of the steps of the ampitheatre, you tried not to let their knowing smiles fluster you, turning back to Jaehyun with a shake of the head.

“It’s fine, don’t wanna trouble you, but thanks for offering,” you assured him.

“What brings you back?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you, seeing his smile widen, giving you a shrug.

“For fun, honestly. I’m on break at university anyway, so I figured I might as well.”

Your lips parted in realisation, nodding slowly, “your girlfriend didn’t mind you leaving?”

He shook his head, “yeah, she was going back home to visit her family anyway,” you nodded, sighing in relief with the knowledge that he still had a girlfriend so whatever Jeongin said was baseless.

Jaehyun glanced behind you, spotting Yuta and Jeongin sitting at the steps, pressing his lips together so his dimples showed, “shouldn’t keep you any longer, your friends are waiting. See you later,” he had a hand gently on your shoulder, pulling it back to give you a small wave before you’d left to join Yuta and Jeongin at the steps.

“​Ouch,” Yuta hissed, eyeing your arm, “who did that?” he nodded his head towards your arm, drawing Jeongin’s attention to the wound.

You huffed, gesturing towards the group of Aphrodite’s children gathered closer to the fire, “Hyunjin,” you offered half-heartedly.

Jeongin’s eyes widened, “Hyunjin? But why? Wasn’t he on your side?”

Yuta’s attention was still searching the group of them, observing the way Hyunjin had a little bit of bandage peeking out from the arm of his sleeveless shirt, a small scratch on his cheek and his palm wrapped with a bandage as well.

“Are you sure it wasn’t someone trying to get the flag?” Jeongin prompted, as if trying to wrack his brain to recall anybody from his side to making it that far over to your side.

“No,” you shook your head, leaning back in your seat with a sigh as you brought your cup to your lips, “just him.”

“What? Why would he do that, though?” Jeongin hummed. You knew he was friends with Hyunjin, so his confusion was catching you even more off guard.

You shook your head, “I’d rather... not talk about it right now,” you sighed, “can you help me with this?” you turned to Jeongin, gesturing to your arm.

You missed the look Jeongin cast Hyunjin’s way, nodding at you as he stood up, probably going to get the first-aid box he kept in his cabin. Yuta cast a brief glance in your direction before letting out a snort.

“I can ​feel​ how annoyed you are,” Yuta drawled, jokingly, of course.

You drew your gaze away from Hyunjin, turning to look at Yuta, “I’m not ​annoyed,​ ” you murmured, “just... surprised.”

Yuta quirked an eyebrow at you, “pleasantly surprised?” You waved him off, “don’t get too carried away.”

Daring yourself to look back at Hyunjin, you’d surprised yourself when you noticed he was looking in your direction as well, drawing his gaze away with a certain calmness to his gesture that made you almost unable to look away. Something about it still felt so... ​unsettling​ to you.

From what you knew, Aphrodite was the goddess of love, of beauty, but what you saw from Hyunjin was a whole other side of that, beauty ​with​ a certain kind of strength you weren’t used to witnessing. An almost unassuming kind of strength, something about it only making you more curious about him. 

But after your interaction with him today, you weren’t so sure that you wanted to cause more problems for yourself. You figured if you just stayed out of his way, you would probably still be able to ensure yourself a peaceful summer. That was the ​plan​, at least.

===

What you didn’t realise was that camp half-blood was a ​lot​ smaller than you thought it was, especially with how often you were running into Hyunjin after that day.

You were on your way to The Forge, since you’d come up with a plan to forge a sword this week, feeling in need of something that suited your own tastes more. In other words, ​you were bored out of your mind.

However, on your way to the place, you’d bumped into Hyunjin as you were making your way past the mess hall, unconsciously frowning at the sight of him, making him scoff, walking beside you with that same air of elegance he always carried himself with (a contrary to you who was trying to walk faster than him in your own unspoken ​petty​ competition).

Hyunjin wasn’t sure why he was entertaining your competition, also trying to walk quicker than you, his hair bouncing lightly atop his head as he walked briskly, making you realise halfway how stupid the both of you probably looked, halting your footsteps halfway to turn to him with narrowed eyes.

“Stop,” you told him firmly, making his eyes widen, his hand raising to point a finger at himself. 

“​Me​?” Hyunjin scoffed, “you started it first.”

You opened your mouth to speak, closing it quickly, curious to why he was heading in the same direction as you, “stop following me.”

Though your question came out in a rather roundabout way, you figured that was the extent your pride allowed you to go to for now.

Hyunjin folded his arms, unsure why you were so proficient at bringing out the petty side of him, “​you​ stop following ​me,​ ” he shot back, his height making him look more intimidating despite his expression showing nothing but child-like stubbornness (similarly to yours).

“I’m not, I’m going to The Forge!”

“I’m going to the Stables!” He shot back at the same time as you, as if it were even a competition to answer first.

Hyunjin hummed,​ so you were going to The Forge.​ 

The information made Hyunjin curious as to what you were planning on making or fixing there, though he didn’t want to pursue it, still upset that the wound you inflicted on his hand made it hard for him to ride the pegasi.

Whereas you had to stop yourself from thinking about what an ​elegant​ thing riding ​pegasi​ would be, especially if it was Hyunjin doing it. 

Pushing the thought to the back of your head, you huffed, leaving him to continue on your way to the Forge, his footsteps behind you barely audible until you’d both parted ways.

And so it continued. You would alternate between joining Jeongin to do some painting or sculpting and working on your sword, yet somehow you would always manage to run into Hyunjin one way or another.

For a moment, you thought this was some sort of punishment from your father for calling him a whiny bitch​, warranting Hyunjin’s presence wherever you went.

It was either on your way to the Forge, or even when you would turn while painting to stare at the lake only to spot Hyunjin sitting at the corner of the area sculpting something with clay, it seemed as though wherever you went, misfortune in the form of a certain Aphrodite-born boy would follow.

What irked you the most wasn’t the way he would make even ​spilling paint ​look graceful, or the way his contagious laugh would echo loudly around the area, or how his silver ring would clink against the glass water jar distractingly to the beat of whatever song he was listening to as he worked. Instead, it was his ​response​ (or lack thereof) whenever you would meet eyes, how he didn’t have the same reaction everyone else did. How instead of looking away he would keep his gaze firm, yet ​gentle.​ How he didn’t seem... ​scared.​

Hyunjin knew this too, how everyone tended to stay away from Ares demigods in general due to their tendency to make people feel angry or upset and result in fights between campers, but Hyunjin was curious. ​He couldn’t help himself.​ He’d tried his powers on other Ares children before and they worked, so why were ​you​ the exception?

He was down at the Lake, his usual spot he would go to whenever he wanted to relax or clear his mind, since no one else really came here in the night, trying to clear his mind of thoughts of you, having been ​tormented ​by them for the whole day as he tried his ​charmspeak​ on different people just to make sure he wasn’t ​broken​ or anything.

Though it seemed even the lake was no exception to you, something in him feeling as though he wasn’t the only one there, and being proven right when he’d lifted his head from looking at his journal, turning to see you sitting not too far from where he was. Except this time you looked a little... ​different​.

Hyunjin wasn’t sure if it was the softness of the moonlight, but something about the way you looked now with your hands supporting your weight behind you as you looked at the water sloshing around in the lake, moving your foot right and left lazily with your hair flowing freely with the wind and a serene expression on your face. Something about it was very different from the picture of a daughter of Ares that he’d painted in his head. If he didn’t know who you were, he would never have guessed your father was the angry, aggressive, battle-driven god among the olympians, finding something about it awfully refreshing.

Hyunjin had averted his gaze quickly, his hand coming up to grasp at his neck, wincing at the pain from turning his head too quickly.

Drumming his fingers on his journal lightly, Hyunjin slid it into the pocket of his jacket, not knowing you’d already seen him when you came here. He’d contemplated on starting a conversation with you, wondering if it was worth the energy since it’d probably just end up in another petty fight between the both of you.

Deciding against it in the end, Hyunjin stood up with a small sigh, his hand coming up to run his fingers through his hair as he trudged through the sandy ground before he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, walking past you when you’d spoken up.

“Didn’t they tell you?” you murmured, a slight teasing lilt to your tone, though it was sleepier than Hyunjin was used to hearing it.

Hyunjin turned his head to face you, his eyebrows raised in question, and a part of you just sighed at how unlucky you were that you had run into Hyunjin here too of all places.

“Tell me what?” he asked.

Hyunjin had a feeling you were about to crack a joke, with the way you tried (and failed) to contain your smile as you turned to look at him, a certain softness to your smile that came with sheer relaxation.

“You can see your reflection in the lake better in the daytime,” you grinned, making Hyunjin scoff, though he couldn’t help his amusement.

He shook his head at you, a forced laugh leaving him, “very funny, but i’m not ​Narcissus.​”

There was a small pause that fell between the both of you, your arms coming up over your head in a stretch, a small yawn leaving you. Hyunjin hadn’t left yet, making you wonder if it was because he was surprised to see you here.

“I didn’t follow you here,” you added, “if that’s what you’re wondering.” You know, ​just for good measure.

Trust you to be straightforward,​ he thought.

Hyunjin figured he’d might as well take the opportunity to tease you as well, hoping it would help him regain whatever upper hand he thought he had in the exchange.

“Yeah, ​sure,​” he drawled, turning and walking away before you could see his satisfied smile at your yelp of protest.

===

You were a little more excited than usual today, it’d been two weeks since you’d started forging your sword and today would be when you would be able to take it back and use it, the summer sun having started to set by the time you were done.

You were proud of it, frankly. It may have looked like any other sword, but the way it felt was different, it was less prone to wear during rough use as compared to your previous sword, the blade made to be sharper and sturdier. Not to mention how the handle was a perfect fit for your hand. Though you wished you’d had the power of conjuring up a weapon like some of the other children of Ares did, your powers were rather limited to just summoning your weapons and manipulating their material.

It was as if Ares knew you weren’t the ​most c​areful with your things.

You’d spotted one of the sons of Hermes, Minho, making their way into the armory as you were leaving, not bothering to greet him as you crossed paths. You knew who he was very well, and what a reputation he had for pranks in the camp, though you’d fortunately never been at the brunt of any.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were feeling just the slightest bit hesitant, at first, something almost prompting you to bring it back to the Cabin first before you went for dinner but eventually you figured it was fine. It was only for a short period of time anyway. You doubted people would want to steal swords in a place like ​this​.

Meeting your friends at the mess hall for dinner, Jeongin eyed you suspiciously when he’d caught you smiling at your soup for the fifth time that meal.

“Something good happen?” he asked, making you nod eagerly.

“Guess,” you told him, seeing his lower lip jut out in a thoughtful pout, his hand coming up to touch his chin before his eyes had widened, his smile growing.

“Jaehyun—”

“No,” you narrowed your eyes at him in warning, making him burst into giggles, his hand raising in surrender.

“Okay, fine, fine...” he hummed, “oh! You finished your sword?” he asked, earning a nod from you.

“Just finished it this afternoon, it’s in the workshop now but i’m gonna go get it later,” you told him, biting into your food with a satisfied sigh.

Jeongin made a sound of awe, his excitement written all over his features, “can I go with you? I wanna see it.”

You nodded, “yeah sure.”

“Is Yuta coming too?” he asked, earning a shake of the head from you.

“Nope,” you told him, “he’s going over to the Aphrodite cabin for some party,” a small giggle leaving you as you recalled how excited Yuta was to hang out with Ten.

“Aphrodite cabin, huh,” Jeongin snickered, making you nod knowingly.

“I know,” you sighed, bringing your cup to your lips to finish the rest of your drink.

Jeongin tossed his used tissue onto his now-empty tray, “well I’m ready to go, you?” he asked, glancing at you for confirmation.

Giving him a nod, you’d both cleared your trays and made your way out of the mess hall, though as you were on your way out, you couldn’t help but notice the stares you were getting from the other campers as you made your way past the cabins. You’d dismissed their stares quickly, thinking nothing of it until Jeongin had let out a small hum of discomfort.

“Is it just me, or...” he grimaced, clearing his throat, “are they staring?” he asked you, twisting his ring around his index finger.

You nodded, giving him a small shrug as you brushed your flyaway hairs away from your face, the wind blowing it haphazardly around.

“Thought so, but it’s alright, I mean. As far as I know we’re fine ‘cause ​Jaebum​ hasn’t summoned us anywhere yet,” you huffed, already nearing the workshop when you’d seen a small group of people gathered there, one being Minho, who was currently crouched over something you couldn’t quite see.

“What’s that?” Jeongin murmured, more to himself than anything.

You watched as Minho had slowly emerged from his crouching position, looking at you with pleading eyes and his hands waving in front of him almost as if in reassurance, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N, I can explain, I’m really sorry I don’t know what happened I was just doing my own thing and I didn’t know that I was actually—”

“What happened?” you cut him off, his rambling only making your anxiousness grow. Looking at him with confusion written all over your features, you hoped dearly that your suspicions would be proved wrong.

Jeongin watched with horror in his wide eyes as Minho had pulled out what looked like your (now cut up) sword.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked back at Minho You were sure your sword wasn’t as hard or brittle enough to have broken like this, you would’ve known, you’d consulted the many sons and daughters of ​Hephaestus​ that had come and gone from The Forge while you worked and researched on what would be best for your sword. You were sure ​they, t​he sons of a blacksmith of all people, extremely skilled at crafting, wouldn’t have allowed you to make a sword that could get damaged so easily.

“How... did this happen?” you asked him, oblivious to the way the people there were looking on curiously, eager to see if you would live up to the typical Ares tendencies and go into a fit of blind rage.

“I thought this was my sword and I was gonna melt it down to cut it but then I realised too late that it wasn’t mine,” he admitted, his tone sounding too remorseful for you to be more angry at him.

Now ​that,​ you could believe.

You looked back at the sword and back at him, not wanting to look at your sword any longer as you inhaled deeply, hearing someone murmur that you looked as though you could ​kill​ Minho.

Jeongin heard it too, ​felt i​t even, the sheer anticipation from the crowd that you would prove them right that the ​apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.​ They didn’t believe you were capable of controlling your temper, not when all your other siblings couldn’t. And you were glad you realised it, that if you acted on your anger right now, you wouldn’t be doing anything other than perpetuating their image of you as someone that so predictably ​craved war.​

A silence fell between you and Minho, aside from the hushed whispers and murmuring that could be heard from the other campers around you, feeling Jeongin’s hand touch your shoulder gently.

You shook your head, hoping you came across as more reassuring than wanting to kill Minho, a small murmur of an ‘okay’ leaving you before you’d turned away from him, leaving with Jeongin without another word.

Of course, your reaction came to the other campers as a shock, none of them having seen you display such an eerie calmness before. They were sure if the same thing had been done to Yuta, he wouldn’t have held back on showing just how upset he was, but you’d reacted in the least typically Ares way imaginable.

And Hyunjin thought so too.

He had been bored out of his mind waiting for the sons of ​Dionysus​ to show up with the drinks, sitting leisurely on the plush sofa in the big living room as he fiddled with his hair, glancing at the door every now and then as he pretended to be interested in whatever gossip his sisters were divulging amongst themselves.

“Did you hear?” one of them tapped on Hyunjin’s arm incessantly, making him turn to them with a bored expression, his fingers touching his ear absently as he prompted them to continue.

“Minho just had a run-in with Y/N,” she told him, her eyes beaming with excitement as though the information she shared was life-or-death, in a very ​entertainment channel​ kind of way.

Hyunjin frowned at the mention of your name, already trying to picture how that would’ve gone down, wondering if you’d pummeled Minho and had been the reason behind his absence at the party.

Well, that was until Minho had walked into the Aphrodite cabin looking absolutely unscathed, and Hyunjin decided that maybe he ​did​ want to know what happened.

“What happened?” he shifted in his seat, trying to appear nonchalant with his hand supporting the side of his head even despite his bubbling curiosity.

His sister had wasted no time in telling the story, “Minho broke Y/N’s sword because he thought it was his sword, and then when she was going to go get it he told her about it and she looked really angry​,” she told him, nodding gravely.

“You were there?” Hyunjin asked, his frown deepening, wondering for a moment what he was doing during that time.​ Probably lazing on his bed,​ he figured.

His sister’s mouth had shut quickly, her gaze darting to the ceiling, “well... no, I wasn’t, but that’s what I heard from Ten, who heard it from- okay, nevermind, the important part was that she looked angry, okay?”

Hyunjin knew about Minho’s... ​penchant​ for pranks, usually not bothering about them since they were pretty minor. But even ​he​ thought this went a little too far. ​You’d been working on that sword for what... a little more than two weeks?​ If Hyunjin were in your position, he was sure he would’ve been upset too.

“So... did she like... fight him or something?” he asked his sister, earning a shake of the head from her, which had only surprised him even more.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows raised, “really,” he mustered distractedly, glancing over at Minho who had looked absolutely unaffected, laughing at something Ten had just said.

“She just... left?” Hyunjin asked for confirmation again, not being able to wrap his head around the unpredictability of your reaction. ​Nothing about you seemed predictable to him, so far.

Maybe your offhand comments, or your skill with weaponry, ​sure,​ that was predictable, but even from that day playing capture-the-flag, Hyunjin knew there was something in you that was very much ​Ares​, and very much ​not.​

He wouldn’t have expected such a reaction from someone as strong-willed as you, but then again, as he thought more about it on his way to where Minho was, he thought that maybe he should have expected it. There was something akin to a quiet strength about your reaction, to him.

“Oh, hey,” Minho greeted Hyunjin with a nod in the kitchen as he poured himself another drink, Hyunjin letting out a deep breath he hadn’t even known he was holding.

“Why’d you do that to Y/N’s sword?” he’d asked abruptly, shocking himself with the imperative nature of his tone, and Minho didn’t mask his shock either, the boy looking at Hyunjin as if he’d grown another head.

“Look, I don’t usually give a shit about your pranks but... don’t you have to admit that was a little too much?” his tone had calmed down considerably, maintaining his calm exterior as he gave Minho a small shrug.

Minho let out a snort, nodding slowly, “dude... you know I didn’t ​actually​ destroy it, right?”

Hyunjin’s lips parted in surprise, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair again, the whole situation proving to be ​very​ unnecessary to him. It seemed, whenever it came to you Hyunjin always found himself feeling emotions he wasn’t used to feeling, things like defensiveness, annoyance, though nothing about it was unwelcome to him, strangely. That part, he had yet to figure out fully.

“Then why’d you do it?” Hyunjin wondered out loud.

Minho shrugged, “wanted to see if she was as temperamental as the rest of them. Think about it, she’s never really...​lost​ her temper like the rest of them.”

“Why do you care anyway?” Minho continued, “I didn’t recall anything about you two being friends,” Hyunjin was caught off guard by the implication.

Looking elsewhere, Hyunjin let out a small scoff, “I ​don’t,​ okay? I just... felt bad for her,” he tried to reason, “she worked hard on that sword.”

Shrugging, Hyunjin let out another huff of disbelief, removing his jacket with how stuffy it started to feel in the house.

“Whatever, why am I even explaining this to you,” he muttered, “where’d you put the actual sword?”

Minho eyed Hyunjin curiously, shaking his head with a small smile on his face as he gestured outside the house, “it’s still in the workshop.”

Sighing deeply, Hyunjin rolled his eyes at his own expense, giving Minho a firm pat on the shoulder before he left, his mind a swarm of reasons why he ​shouldn’t​ have been doing this, even stopping himself in front of The Forge to just be ​absolutely​ sure he was going to go out of his way to deliver a sword to someone he wasn’t on the best terms with.

But he did anyway, and that was what ended Hyunjin up holding your sword in its sheath and grimacing non-stop along with his annoyed mumbles on his very hesitant path towards the lake where he figured you would be.

Sure enough, Hyunjin had sighed in relief when he’d spotted you sitting at your usual spot, your knees propped up closer to your chest and your arms folded and resting upon them, your back facing him.

Shaking whatever hesitance there was left in him, Hyunjin cleared his throat, sighing when you hadn’t turned around.

You weren’t in the mood to have another bickering session with Hyunjin, as a matter of fact, already upset enough at the fact that you not only had to make another sword for yourself, but that the other campers probably just viewed you as some sort of ticking time bomb that they couldn’t wait to set off.

About to take another step towards you, you’d sighed, one of your hands going to pick at the hem of your pants, “shouldn’t you be busy shooting ​love arrows​ or something?” you huffed.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, freezing in place behind you, “how’d you know it was me?”

You shrugged, not wanting to admit that it was the same pleasant floral scent that brought back your memory of that day playing capture-the-flag that had let you know it was him, the scent being somehow unmistakably ​Hyunjin​ that your mind seemed to have automatically associated the two together.

“And again,” he huffed, “just because Aphrodite’s my mom doesn’t mean i’m ​cupid.​” 

You hummed patronisingly, “what do you want?”

Hyunjin sighed, making his way in front of you, holding your sword out in front of you, your eyes narrowing at him as you took the sword from him slowly.

“It’s yours,” he murmured, “it wasn’t actually destroyed.”

If Hyunjin had expected to receive an appreciative expression of thanks, maybe he should’ve gone to someone else. 

You stood up abruptly, a small gasp leaving you.

“Were ​you​ the one behind all of this?” your brows furrowed in annoyance, pointing your sword at him with its sheath still on, making Hyunjin step back slightly.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in shock, a scoff leaving him despite his hands finding their way beside his head in a gesture of surrender, “why are you getting mad at me? I didn’t do anything, I was just returning this to you,” he defended himself.

Maybe Hyunjin was just unlucky,​ he thought, if only you would have reacted this way to Minho instead of him.

“How do I know you weren’t the one that planned all of this?” you’d almost moved to jab your sword towards him, Hyunjin having anticipated your move and grabbed your sword by it’s sheath, his other hand coming to your wrist and pushing it away from him, ripping the sword from your grip and holding it over his head.

“Excuse you, I left a party just to go and get this hunk of metal and return it to you,” he narrowed his eyes at you, “and ​this​ is how you thank me?”

You frowned, confusion prominent in your features as you dropped your hands to your sides limply, “why would ​you​ do that?”

Frankly not knowing the reason either, Hyunjin opened and closed his mouth as he fumbled for an answer, tilting his chin up in defiance when he scoffed eventually.

“Fine, if you don’t want this I can just go throw it in the lake or something—”

You stopped him quickly, a yelp of protest leaving you as your hand found its way around his wrist.

Hyunjin hadn’t missed the pleading look in your eyes that flashed for just a second, his grip around your sword loosening as he let you take it back, slightly amused at the way you’d let out an annoyed huff, holding your sword protectively next to you.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumbled grumpily, “didn’t know someone that came from the goddess of love could be such a ​pain in the ass.​ ”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you, something about him finding your expression akin to that of a child as you sulked, not being able to help himself from prodding you further in retaliation. 

Taking a step closer to you, Hyunjin licked his lips as he tried to think of a response, taking his lower lip between his teeth and letting it go with a slowness that had only served to heighten the tension of the silence.

“What about you, then? I’m ​sure y​ou live up to what they say about Ares children ​craving​ fights and anger, right?” You couldn’t help but feel as though he were challenging you, as if he wanted you to prove him wrong, a feeling in his gut telling him that you would. He was confident in that, (also because he kind of hoped you would).

You’d met Hyunjin’s gaze, his words seeming to have struck a chord with you, a small pause ensuing before you’d shook your head slowly, averting your gaze from him, your gaze unconsciously flickering to the sky as a brief thought had crossed your mind on whether Ares would be angry at you for saying what you were about to say.

But you didn’t think you really cared.

“I don’t... fight without reason, okay?” you cursed yourself mentally for the way your words came out as a mumble, missing the small hint of a smile playing at Hyunjin’s lips, something making you want to look up at him.

Hyunjin nodded at you, liking the answer you gave him for the first time, “good. Me too.”

You’d met his gaze, finally, the sloshing of the lake behind you and the coolness of the summer night almost drowning out your next words.

“Good,” you murmured, “let’s... not give each other a reason, then.”

Shocking you with his reaction, Hyunjin had nodded, turning away as he tried to stifle his smile, his hand coming up to run his fingers through his hair again, only to have it fall softly back against his head.

“Go,” you murmured, not being able to tolerate the tension any longer, “join back your party.”

Hyunjin quirked an eyebrow at you, though he nodded nonetheless, a strange feeling within him after the interaction you’d just shared.

Leaving without another word, you turned your sword around in your hands, thankful to Hyunjin for doing something like that for you even though you’d been nothing but unfriendly to him recently, figuring that this could have been a ​peace offering​ of some sort.

And just for a moment, you thought, maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was.

===

And maybe you were right about the whole ​peace offering t​hing, since after that day, it was safe to say that Hyunjin and you hadn’t bickered like you did before, tolerating each other’s presence whenever you would both be at the lake at the same time in the night, greeting each other with curt nods when you would walk past each other.

You were having dinner at the mess hall before another game of capture-the-flag that would start at 6 o’clock. Jaehyun had found his way to your table and seated himself next to you, so you were seated in between him and Jeongin, with Chan, Yuta and another son of Ares sitting in front of you.

Hyunjin was seated next to the newer Ares kid, minding his own business as he ate his food, his sisters on his other side talking about the pegasi riding lessons as Hyunjin tried his best to pay attention to the conversation you were having.

You’d been talking about some sort of event the camp was holding in the amphitheatre soon, something like a movie night. In other words, simply an excuse for the older kids to ask for dates to watch a movie with them.

“Are you gonna ask anyone?” Chan had asked Jaehyun, making Jeongin give you a look that was a little too obvious for your liking. 

You weren’t able to see Jaehyun’s reaction, since you were seated next to him, not that you cared much about it anyway since you knew it wouldn’t have meant anything.

Choosing to keep your gaze fixed on your food, you prodded at it with your fork as you waited for Jaehyun’s response, almost sighing when he’d cleared his throat, shrugging, “dunno, I guess.”

You missed the way Hyunjin’s gaze wandered from Jaehyun to Jeongin, to you, his mind running wild with possible reasons why Jeongin looked like Jaehyun had just told a joke instead of the response he just gave.

He recalled hearing from his sister the other day that Jaehyun had broken up with his girlfriend from back home, something stirring in him when he’d considered the thought that maybe Jaehyun had his eyes set on you. Not that Hyunjin was in any position to have a problem about it, of course, Jaehyun was free to like whoever he wanted, but something in Hyunjin almost wished for a moment that the feeling in his gut would be wrong for once.

Dismissing the thought quickly, he’d averted his gaze from Jaehyun, focusing on finishing his drink instead.

You looked up briefly to cast a glare at Jeongin, thankful to Yuta who had spoken up, uninterested in the topic of who Jaehyun’s choice of date was.

“Who says we have to bring dates? Why don’t we just go as a group of friends?” Yuta shrugged, Chan letting out a small giggle in response.

“That would be cute, I don’t mind that,” he agreed, Hyunjin nodding in agreement.

“Can I join? I’d rather not let my sisters try to matchmake me again this time,” Hyunjin grimaced, making you unintentionally perk up at the mention of matchmaking, wondering who they had in mind that would be a good fit for him, running through your mental list as you continued to prod at your food.

“Oh yeah, cause you guys are like children of ​cupid​ or something, right?” the boy snickered, something about his tone striking a nerve with you.

Did he really think a god as ​unpredictable​ and destructive as ​Ares​ was any better?

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes, “​Aphrodite,” you quipped sternly, “it’s not that hard to remember.”

Jeongin had to stifle his laughter, and you continued to prod at your food, missing the small smile on Hyunjin’s face when you went back to eating as if you didn’t just say what you said.

The boy had immediately quietened down, afraid that he would warrant another chiding from you if he made another mistake, Jaehyun nudging you with an amused smile on his face.

“Go easy on the kid, he’s not familiar with how it works here yet.”

You huffed, unsure why you had felt so defensive over it as well. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t teased Hyunjin about it before. But maybe that was what irked you about the boy’s statement, how his tone sounded ​mocking​ almost, as if it wasn’t something to be proud of to be born from Aphrodite.

Sighing, you’d stood up, ready to get ready for the capture-the-flag game, turning to Jaehyun and scrunching your nose in distaste, “he’s gotta learn at some point.”

The sun was already beginning to set when you’d started the game, the sky growing darker the more the both of you made your way through the forest, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could as Hyunjin walked with you.

Hyunjin and yourself had been on a separate path to find the other team’s flag, the both of you having been split up from the rest after being bombarded with a group of Hermes’ children.

“Should we go that way?” Hyunjin asked, pointing in the direction of the lake, making you shake your head.

“No, they probably have a bunch of Poseidon’s kids standing by there, and I don’t know about you, but I really ​don’t​ wanna end up fighting Chan.”

Hyunjin let out a small huff, halfway to a giggle, a small pause ensuing as you stepped over a branch, turning to gesture to the branch as a warning to Hyunjin, hearing him murmur a small thanks to you. Something between the both of you felt more comfortable now, less hostile definitely, but something about it still felt tense, you just couldn’t exactly place the cause of the tension.

“Can I ask you a question?” Hyunjin asked, pulling you from your thoughts, his voice soft but loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, “what?” you prompted, turning when you’d felt a movement, relaxing when you realised it was just a dove.

“You’re not very fond of your dad, are you?” he asked, making you inhale deeply, huffing through your nose.

You turned to him with a sceptical look on your face, “are ​you?​ ” you scoffed.

“So, i’ll take that as a no?”

You paused, giving him a small nod.

Hyunjin hummed softly, reaching a hand up to push the overhanging leaf out of the way before it could hit your head without you realising.

“Can I ask why?” he hummed, his footsteps delicately treading on the ground softly in contrast with you who were simply walking normally.

You shrugged, “guess it never really felt like I ​fit​ into the ideals he wants in his children? You know? Like all that... ​destruction​ and ​aggression​ without reason, it just didn’t feel right to me,” you shrugged.

Hyunjin hummed, as if prompting you to continue, slightly distracted when he contemplated if he should offer his helmet to you since you didn’t have one.

“It felt kind of weird, to be honest, when he claimed me,” you shared, thankful that Hyunjin made you feel as though you could share these things with him without being attacked for not respecting your father. “It kind of felt like it was wrong.”

Hyunjin let out a small giggle at that, a small sound of disagreement leaving him, “I wouldn’t say totally​ wrong,” he offered, making your eyebrows raise in question, curious to hear what he had to say.

“You know, you’re strong-willed, passionate about what you want, good at combat,” he told you, making you huff in your attempt to suppress the strange feeling within you at Hyunjin’s words. Hyunjin himself felt as though such words were foreign to him, or maybe it was the intention behind the words. He wasn’t sure.

“Thanks,” you murmured softly, the way your voice had come out as a mere squeak making you scrunch your nose up in distaste.

“What about you?” you asked, hearing a confused hum leave him.

“Am I fond of my mom?”

You turned to nod at him, seeing him shrug, “yeah, I guess. I guess the only downside I can think of is how we’re not the most... ​skilled​ at combat.”

You didn’t see it, but Hyunjin had to stop himself from letting his smile grow too big, especially because he knew his words had struck a chord with you.

Your breath hitched, feeling almost guilty hearing his words, not being able to help yourself from turning to him, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the path you were on.

“Sorry,” you told him, seeing him tilt his head at you, an expectant smirk on his face. 

“For what?”

You shrugged, averting your gaze as you knocked your shield against his gently, embarrassment taking over you at the awkward gesture, “you know, for... underestimating you.”

Daring yourself to meet his gaze, you were surprised to say the least, when he’d simply smiled at you, his tongue moving to graze over his canine, “apology accepted.”

About to move forward, Hyunjin had stopped you abruptly, his hand on your wrist with urgency in the gesture, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Jaehyun.”

You wrinkled your nose in dismay, shaking your head, “probably means we’re near.”

You heard footsteps growing louder, not having expected Jaehyun to be alone, but you should’ve known he wasn’t, especially when you’d heard footsteps behind you, spotting Chan with Jaehyun, and the flag not far behind them.

“I’ll take Chan,” Hyunjin told you quicker than you could react, already wielding his sword as he proceeded to duel with Chan, while Jaehyun made his way slowly over to you, gripping his trident (a gift from Poseidon himself, he was very proud to inform whoever ) and using it to smack against the ground with small thuds as he grew closer.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he gave you a grin, his dimples showing cutely.

You rolled your eyes, not being able to stop yourself from smiling.

“Yeah, Jaebum didn’t put me on flag duty today, but I see you didn’t get so lucky?” you murmured, already pulling your sword out, the sound of Hyunjin and Chan fighting behind you making you wonder just where everyone else was, having expected them to reach the flag before you and Hyunjin could.

Jaehyun scoffed, “hey, I ​love​ flag duty.”

Already going into your ready stance, you wanted to laugh when Jaehyun had done so as well, not being able to take him very seriously from knowing him for so long.

And so you swung your sword, managing to nick him on the arm before your sword collided with his trident, though you tried to ignore the intimidating sharpness of its prongs as you continued to try your best, to dodge his swings and use your difference in size to your advantage. It was a blur to you, the whole process, like it usually was.

You figured it was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, where you would get lost in the fighting that you wouldn’t even have time to think before you acted, your body seeming to move naturally with its one goal of getting your opponent out of the way.

Maybe you’d thank Ares for ​that​ detail.

After you realised Hyunjin had stopped fighting Chan, you’d let yourself get distracted by wondering how he’d managed to get Chan to give up so easily, giving Jaehyun the opportunity to deliver a particularly strong blow to your shoulder.

Stumbling back, your back hitting the tree behind you as Jaehyun brought his trident up, your hand grasping the spear tightly as you tried to pull it away from your neck, though Jaehyun had an advantage with his stance, holding it against your neck and caging you in place, the tip of one of the pointed ends nicking you just below your jaw when you’d moved particularly abruptly.

Hyunjin had noticed of course, but after he’d managed to get Chan to leave with his Charmspeak​, you realised he was free to go get the flag.

So when you saw him coming behind Jaehyun, you used your hand to gesture to the flag, Hyunjin thankfully having gotten the hint and making a break towards the flag, more people having gathered as Jaehyun had let go of you finally, watching with a smile as Hyunjin had claimed the flag, looking at you with a dazed smile on his face.

Jaehyun helped you up from where you leaned against the tree, “he’s pretty good, isn’t he?” you heard him say.

“Who?” you frowned.

Jaehyun nodded his head towards Hyunjin, who was gracefully accepting the praise from the other campers as he made his way towards where you were.

You huffed, nodding, “yeah,” you murmured, “sure is.”

You were too tired to join for the celebration after the game, finding your way back to the Lake. (With how much you went there, people would have thought you were a daughter of Poseidon if not for the red motifs on your attire).

Having asked Jeongin if you could meet him later on after you showered for him to help you clean up your cuts like you would both usually do, you heard soft footsteps behind you, sighing in relief that Jeongin was finally here.

Only when the smell of that distinct flowery scent had grown stronger did you realise that was definitely not Jeongin, your suspicions proven when you saw Hyunjin seat himself down next to you, his hair wet and in a new change of clothes, having freshened up as well, glancing down to see a first-aid box in his hands.

But not any first-aid box, you realised, when you spotted the little stickers on the side of the opening, ​Jeongin’s​ first-aid box.

“Hope you don’t mind, Jeongin said he had to get something done,” Hyunjin’s hands came up to pull the neck of his white shirt higher, his bracelet sliding down on his arm, “may I?” he asked, your mouth still sealed shut in your uncertainty on how to respond.

You nodded belatedly, seeing him already taking out some antiseptic cream from the box with a small cotton bud, “oh, uh, no yeah, that’s fine.”

You took the liberty of taking an ice pack from Jeongin’s box, pressing it against the area where your neck met your shoulder, sighing softly, and maybe even cursing Jaehyun in your head for practically ramming your back into that tree just now.

“I didn’t know you were still injured,” Hyunjin murmured, looking at your neck and then back down at his hands, “thought you would’ve just asked Jaehyun to heal you or something.” His voice came out in mumbles as he concentrated on getting the tube open.

Hyunjin figured with how comfortable you looked around Jaehyun that you wouldn’t have hesitated to accept his help, especially since no one liked to live with their injuries if they could help it, but Hyunjin had to dismiss the thought quickly when he started to think about how closeby the Lake was to the Poseidon cabin, wondering if that was the reason behind your constant presence here.

Pursing your lips, you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you, “I don’t really wanna do that unless it’s super serious,” you began.

Hyunjin hummed, “sorry can you like, look there a little?” he gestured to your right, making you turn to your right, side-eyeing Hyunjin at the little giggle that left him.

“No, like,” you’d tensed up when you felt his hand reach forward to tilt your chin up gently, exposing your cut better to him, wincing slightly when the cotton bud had touched your cut.

“You were saying?” Hyunjin prompted you, making you hum in confusion before realising he was referring to the whole healing thing.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, I guess when you’re a demigod and even things like healing can be done just like that, everything can become really... ​instantaneous​,” you explained, “guess it’s nice to have slow moments like these that kind of feel more like, normal and stuff,” your laughter came out in a small burst, feeling strangely embarrassed to be telling Hyunjin something that felt so stupid when it came out of your mouth.

“Scarring?” Hyunjin laughed, making you shoot him a pointed look, “I'm kidding. I get it.” he smiled, not knowing what came over him to decide to continue, “besides, if Jaehyun healed you, I wouldn’t get to be here right now,” he huffed.

You turned to him, trying to decipher what he meant by that yet at the same time feeling as if you knew, Hyunjin’s gaze fixed on your neck as he placed a small bandage over your cut there, his fingers grazing over the skin there in a way that made you freeze in place, something about his movements and gestures feeling as though they were balancing on the line between intentional and unintentional.

Hyunjin’s gaze shifted to your eyes, offering you a small (and slightly belated smile) before his gaze fell to your forearm, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw the wound, grimacing.

“I’m starting to think I should’ve let you fight Chan instead of Jaehyun,” he laughed, beginning to apply the cream with gentle touches to your arm, his neck craned over your arm, his hair falling over his eyes in a way that made you want to reach your hand out and run your hands through it to push it back, shocking yourself at your thought.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” you assured him, making him shake his head.

“Kind of think it would’ve been more for myself than for you,” he huffed, once again confusing you with the implication behind his words.

Pulling out a medium-sized dressing for your wound, he’d pressed it against your wound, securing it before his hands returned to his lap, Hyunjin almost forgetting himself for a moment with the tension he was feeling.

“All done,” he gave you a small smile, his shoulders relaxing as a barely-audible sigh left his lips, about to put the supplies back into the first-aid box when you’d stopped him, not knowing why your body seemed to be moving against your rational thought.

Your other hand came up to take the box from his hands slowly, shaking your head at him, “you’re injured too,” you pointed out, seeing his eyes widen and his lips part, a small scoff leaving him.

“It’s nothing,” he assured you, though his tone didn’t sound very convincing, a part of him simply refusing for the sake of refusing, “you don’t have to,” he tried again, knowing once again that his charmspeak didn’t work when you’d shook your head insistently.

“It’s ​something,​” you dismissed him, though a small smile found its way onto your face as Hyunjin had wordlessly tugged the sleeve of his shirt up to expose the cut on his arm to you.

Hyunjin had to admit being in such close proximity to you was definitely making him more tense than he was used to being, especially more so now that he knew he couldn’t depend on his abilities​ to make himself seem more likeable to you. Though Hyunjin would argue that it was refreshing, since sometimes he found that he would say things offhandedly and end up using his abilities on accident, but he couldn’t lie that it made him very, ​very​ nervous.

“You came out pretty unharmed,” you murmured with an impressed hint to your tone, “considering you went against Chan.”

Hyunjin shrugged, flushing slightly, masking his shyness with an exaggerated yelp when you’d touched the cotton bud to his wound, flinching back and making you laugh.

“Don’t be dramatic, you were fine when I did it the first time,” you scoffed, seeing him calm down from his act but the smile had lingered on his face nonetheless.

“Yeah, well... I was just lucky he didn’t have a trident too.”

Hyunjin pressed his lips together in a firm line, not having noticed whatever you were doing to his arm because he was too busy looking at your face.

You couldn’t pay too much attention to it, continuing to ramble to take your mind off of how much Hyunjin’s presence made you nervous, especially with the way you could feel him looking at you.

“How did you do that, by the way?” you asked, remembering how you’d seen Chan walk away from Hyunjin halfway when they were fighting, something about the image having popped into your head when you were treating his cut.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, “do what?”

You touched the skin above his cut on accident, seeing him flinch back slightly, “sorry,” you gave him a sheepish smile, “I mean, you know, he just suddenly... ​left​ halfway, like he just stopped fighting you.”

Hyunjin’s lips parted in realisation, a hum of understanding leaving him, “it was uh... my charmspeak.”

The frown on your face must’ve adequately expressed your confusion, since Hyunjin continued.

“I guess you could say it’s one of the gifts from Aphrodite? That I can sort of like... hypnotize someone into doing what I want them to do.”

Your eyes widened, not having realised Hyunjin was capable of such a thing, starting to understand why Yuta had mentioned fearing their powers more than those of Poseidon’s children.

“That’s... cool,” you hummed, “I was surprised you even used it, you know, considering you were already taking him on pretty well even without the uh... hypno powers,” you waved your hands in front of your eyes for emphasis, making him wrinkle his nose, not seeming to be very convinced.

You scoffed at how modest he was being, shaking your head, “no, seriously. Jaehyun said so too,” you told him, “you’re a good fighter.”

Hyunjin pursed his lips, hoping the moonlight wouldn’t give away the heat creeping up on his cheeks, unsure why he was so flattered by your comment, especially since it wasn’t the first time he was hearing it. Maybe since it was his first time hearing ​you,​ of all people, saying it.

“Thanks,” he murmured, a small smile playing at his lips.

“You know, since Aphrodite doesn’t usually play in the war games,” you continued, “I have to admit it was kind of... nice,” you glanced at him briefly for a reaction, the slight quirk in his eyebrow making you rush to continue, “you know, not saying it was nice to fight you but like....nice to fight ​with​ you.”

“Thanks,” he murmured finally, making your shoulders relax unconsciously in your relief, “I uh, thought it was nice too.”

You pressed your lips into a firm line, taking a bandage from the first aid box and scooting closer to Hyunjin just slightly, wrapping the bandage around his arm carefully, Hyunjin’s other hand on his lap as he observed your movements carefully.

You thought about how you would’ve never expected yourself to be so comfortable with Hyunjin, figuring one thing that helped you get to this point was since you’d been spending majority of the summer around each other, thinking back to how you felt like your dislike towards him had started to dissipate after that day he’d returned you his sword. A part of you did still feel bad for not thanking him properly for that.

“Thanks, by the way,” you mumbled, “for that day, when you helped me get back my sword.”

You weren’t sure why you were feeling so drawn to him. You were supposed to be ​strong​ for crying out loud. Everything about your interactions with him had just felt so ​new t​ o you, and they did to him too (though he was better at hiding it than you were). You couldn’t understand why all Hyunjin had to do was just sit there and that was all it took to make you anxious and too nervous to look him in the eyes.

But finally, you’d mustered whatever courage you had within you to do just that, after you were done wrapping his wound up, watching silently as he brought his sleeve back down, refraining from reaching over to grasp your hand before you could withdraw it. Though once you’d met his gaze, you’d felt trapped, almost, something in you not being able to look away.

“You’re welcome,” he told you, his tone gentle and melodic, something so ​him​ that you couldn’t find a better response but to nod.

You saw his gaze flicker to your lips just briefly before looking back at your eyes, making you unknowingly do so as well, the silence between the both of you feeling almost suffocating and making you tap-out first.

Turning away quickly, you’d picked the first-aid box off of the floor, pretending to be interested in closing it as Hyunjin regained his composure, standing up and dusting off the dirt on his pants.

Hyunjin debated on helping you up, wondering if you would accept his hand if he were to offer it, his mental back-and-forth making him lose the opportunity quickly when you’d simply stood up on your own, dusting the dirt from your pants. Hyunjin pressing his lips together in a firm line to hide his disappointment at himself.

“I’ll uh... walk you back to your cabin?” he asked, earning a small nod from you.

You could still hear people nearby in the amphitheatre celebrating, thankful that they were either too drunk or too caught up in their conversations to notice you and Hyunjin walking towards the Ares cabins.

Once you’d reached, you turned to Hyunjin, giving him a small smile, and he wondered how you could look so out of place standing in front of the deep red cabin in front of him with its barbed wire perimeter and the intimidating Ares brothers that were eyeing Hyunjin suspiciously from the window, yet somehow managing to look right at home. And he was growing to like that.

“What?” you asked, a slight furrow in your brow when Hyunjin had let his gaze linger a little too long without saying anything.

Hyunjin gave you a soft smile, shaking his head as he tucked his hands into his pockets, “nothing. Bye.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t help the smile from your face as well, nodding slowly, “bye.”

===

Things between you and Hyunjin after that day were... ​different​ to say the least. It’d almost been an unspoken thing for the both of you to meet at the Lake in the evening and talk about whatever it was that was in your minds before he would walk you back to the cabin.

Jaebum ​loved​ to situate himself at the front porch to ‘read’ whenever it would be time for you to come back, his knowing smile always serving to unnerve you.

Hyunjin was a good friend, you came to realise. Talking to him was different, different from talking to your Ares brothers who were so insistent on putting up a tough front all the time, (aside from those days Yuta would show up in your room wanting to watch a sad movie), or talking to Jeongin because your conversations would usually revolve around mindless things or become all too philosophical to be discussed while sober.

But Hyunjin, talking to him felt ​balanced,​ in a sense. Something about how his personality brought out a side of you that you never really paid much attention to, the part that freely loved things and appreciated the ​nowness​ of things without always anticipating what was about to happen next or what you had to prepare for. How just being at the lake with him had made your nights feel longer and allowed you to relish in it, not having to be caught up with the activities of the day when you were there with him.

You figured another reason could be because talking with him didn’t feel like he was just waiting for his turn to speak or give his opinion, it was very clear to you whenever he had those days where he’d simply wanted to listen to what was weighing on your mind and help you through that, without you having to ask him first.

And maybe it was that which warmed your heart, because as the days passed, you felt yourself starting to see Hyunjin differently. How you would find yourself looking out for him without even realising, getting the feeling of wanting to make him happy, or observing little details about him that you wouldn’t have bothered to notice about Yuta or Jeongin.

It was one particular day at the mess hall that made you realise just how in trouble you were.

You were all back on that dreaded conversation topic of the movie night, hearing that someone had tried asking Jaehyun to go with them but getting turned down instead, the information seeming to stir childish scandal amongst your friends as they all tried to tease information out of Jaehyun as to why this was so.

“C’mon, why’d you say no? It’s not as if you were gonna ask someone else, right?” Chan laughed, Hyunjin perking up when Jaehyun had laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah? Says who? What if I wanted to ask Y/N?” Jaehyun gestured to you, bringing his drink to his lips nonchalantly.

You knew he was just using you as an example, but Hyunjin didn’t.

Looking at you with his eyes wide in surprise, his gaze flickered between you and Jaehyun as he tried to make sense of what was happening, something in him almost deflating at the thought that Jaehyun could have been interested in you.

You couldn’t help but glance at Hyunjin in a small panic, hoping he wouldn’t misread what Jaehyun said​. Why were you even worried about what he would think?

As calmly as you could, you let out a small scoff, “forget it, I wouldn’t go with you even if you asked,” you stuck your tongue out at Jaehyun, Hyunjin not knowing whether to take it as a joke or not, but he didn’t have much time to think about it before Chan had turned to him.

“Didn’t someone ask you too?” Chan asked, having recalled seeing one of the daughters of Poseidon approaching Hyunjin the day before when he was conducting a pegasi riding lesson at the stables.

You looked at Hyunjin with evident surprise in your features, since he’d definitely excluded that little detail when he told you about his day the previous evening, surprising yourself even further when you’d pictured the scene in your head, wondering how he would’ve reacted.

Hyunjin cast you a brief glance, meeting your eyes and averting his gaze just as quickly to fixate it on Chan, nodding with as casual a shrug as he could muster, “yeah,” he answered simply.

You couldn’t help yourself, “and?” you blurted before you could stop yourself, catching Hyunjin off guard with the expectancy of your tone.

Jeongin eyed you suspiciously, though it went ignored by you as you focused on waiting for Hyunjin’s answer, watching as he let go of the tissue he was holding in his hands, bringing his drink up to his lips, almost raising his hands in surrender (but thankfully not doing so).

“Said no,” he shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink, eyeing you for a reaction over the rim of his cup.

You nodded slowly, a short hum of understanding leaving you as you turned back to Jeongin, making eye contact with the boy who was looking at you with a look that said he definitely was going to ask you about this later.

And he did, soon enough.

Lying on your bed on his back, Jeongin was busy pulling his knee to his chest in his attempt to do some ‘​yoga in bed​’ that he’d come across online. 

“What’s up with you and Hyunjin?”

“What do you mean, ‘whats up with me and Hyunjin’?” you huffed, hoping he wouldn’t read into your flustered expression as you turned away from him, concentrating on folding your freshly done laundry.

Jeongin rolled his eyes, letting go of his leg before pulling the other one towards his chest with a small grunt, “I ​mean​, what’s going on with you and Hyunjin?” he said again, making sure to enunciate his words pointedly.

You shrugged, “nothing, we’re friends,” you told him plainly (though not plain enough to please Jeongin), “that’s what’s going on.”

Straightening his leg, Jeongin lowered it down, stretching his hands over his head with a yawn, “then what was with your face when Chan said someone asked him out?”

You let out a high-pitched hum, making a wrong fold on your shirt, “well aren’t you an observant little thing,” you cooed, re-doing the fold.

“Don’t avoid the question,” Jeongin laughed, straightening up in his seat and looking at you with wide eyes, “why are you being so weird about it?”

You sighed, bunching up your shirt in your hands as you looked at him, “I don’t know what it is, okay? It’s just that... these days whenever i’m with him I keep thinking about how nice he looks or how good his stupid flower perfume smells or how he just, I don’t know, chooses his words so well,” you frowned.

“It’s weird, like, even ​I​ think it’s weird, because I don’t usually pay attention to things like that, but suddenly when it comes to him—” you inhaled deeply, stopping yourself short as you looked at Jeongin in desperation. “If it’s not some kind of magic, I don’t know what to make of it.”

Jeongin snorted, giving you a shrug.

“I’d ​love​ to just say you’re losing it, but I heard Aphrodite kids have a reputation for that, you know?”

You frowned, standing up to make your way towards where he was, “for what?” You slumped down on your bed next to him with your arms stretched out above you, rolling over until your shoulder was against his hip, a tired sigh leaving you.

“You know, the whole like... ​love voodoo​ shit,” Jeongin prompted, your confused expression making him groan, “it’s like what you guys can do with anger and fear but they do it with pleasant​ feelings instead.”

Your frown deepened, not having realised Hyunjin was capable of doing something like that.

“I thought it was only the charmspeak?” you frowned, seeing Jeongin roll his eyes.

“You say it as if Ares only gave you guys one ability.”

You snorted, “wouldn’t have put it past him,” you shifted your body to support your head with your hand, “has it happened before?”

Jeongin hummed, nodding matter-of-factly, “yeah, ​duh.​ ”

“Then, do you think that’s what’s happening to me?” you wondered out loud, bringing your legs up to hug your knees to your chest with a sigh, trying to wrack your brain for reasons why Hyunjin would manipulate your feelings like that. ​Did he not trust you?

Giving you a shrug, Jeongin laid back on his back, “dunno, maybe you can test it out or something. See if what you’re feeling is heightened when you’re talking to him, you know?”

You hummed, nodding slowly. You still didn’t know what would compel Hyunjin to do something like that, wondering if you weren’t on as good terms as you thought you were, deciding that for now, observing him was your best bet to figuring out just exactly what he wanted from you.

Hyunjin was stressing himself out too, but not quite over the same reasons that you were.

While you were trying to come to terms with the fact that you were finding him a little ​too pleasant to be normal, Hyunjin had been trying to come to terms with the fact that Jaehyun probably found you as pleasant as he did (or something along those lines).

He’d already passed the point of figuring out whether or not he liked you.​ He knew that for sure.

Whether it was because he was more in tune with his feelings of love or just him tending to trust his feelings more, he didn’t really pinpoint a specific cause. All he knew was that he had found himself completely enamoured with you, drawn to you in ways that made him question if ​his mother​ had a hand in this.

What he was more concerned with now, was coming to terms with the fact that you may not have felt the same way.

It was in the small things, like how he would let himself read into the looks or the inside jokes that Jaehyun shared, or how he couldn’t help but feel as though you would feel more comfortable with Jaehyun judging from your conversations and how naturally they flowed. Not that his conversations with you didn’t feel natural as well, Hyunjin just couldn’t help but ​worry​.

And this was new to him, these feelings of heightened worry or anxiousness that somehow you managed to bring out in him, though Hyunjin had to say that it wasn’t that bad, because with the anxiousness, he realised just how much he liked you. But nonetheless, as previously said, he really couldn’t help but worry.

Even now (or ​especially​ now), as Hyunjin was seated behind you in the amphitheater during the movie night, watching some sort of pirated romantic movie that, if anything, only made him more anxious about you, he couldn’t help the glances he would steal at Jaehyun every now and then. As if by some unlucky stroke of fate, he would always seem to turn to look at you at a part where Jaehyun would be whispering something that would elicit a laugh from you, something about the feeling of helplessness mixed with just a ​tinge​ of jealousy making Hyunjin’s stomach churn.

But what Hyunjin didn’t know was that you weren’t actually as amused as he thought you were.

What he didn’t see, past the giggling and inside jokes, was that your leg was bouncing incessantly in your seat, how your eyes were dead fixed on the movie playing but not being able to focus on anything other than the fact that even the way the male lead dressed had reminded you of Hyunjin.

You were trying your ​best,​ to ignore the sounds of agreement or giggles that would leave Hyunjin whenever Yuta would hum about the beauty of the leads, or the way Hyunjin would lean forward every so often to ask for another handful of popcorn. And he wouldn’t just ask, he would make sure his lips were barely centimeters away from your ear and that his voice was as enchanting as it was in the forest during your first encounter with him.

And then the scent of his perfume would flood your senses and your mind would be practically yelling at you that all you had to do was just turn ​ever so slightly​ and your face would be right in front of his.

But the keyword was ​trying​.

You ​couldn’t​ ignore it, with every instance, you were growing increasingly convinced that this was just Hyunjin’s way of messing with you and manipulating your feelings for reasons unbeknownst to you.

And as time passed, you were getting ​tired​ of feeling so strongly towards him when you frankly couldn’t do anything about it (it wasn’t as if you could just turn around and kiss him ​now,​ that would be too much implication and too little reasonable explanation on your part).

But your tipping point was a particularly tense scene in the movie when the lead couple had shared a moment, looking into each other's eyes and the male lead saying something stupid that you couldn’t bring yourself to remember, before sharing a deep kiss.

And of all moments, Hyunjin had chosen ​that​ moment to lean forward for what you felt was the thousandth time, “Y/N,” he whispered, “can I have the—”

You shoved the popcorn box behind you into his hands, a deep sigh leaving you, “here. Take it.”

Jeongin shared a look with Hyunjin, the younger boy’s hand coming up to stifle his smile when you stood up abruptly, deciding that what would do you good right now is some fresh air, or just... air where you could focus on anything ​other​ than Hyunjin.

Your sudden decision had caught Hyunjin off guard, frowning at you in confusion when you declared that you ‘needed some air’, stalking off in what Hyunjin assumed was the direction of the lake.

Turning to Jeongin, Hyunjin was about to speak when Jeongin had beat him to it, a definitive ‘yes’ leaving him.

Yuta let out a chuckle when Hyunjin had only looked more confused. 

“‘Yes’ what?”

Jaehyun turned to cast a knowing smile towards Hyunjin, making him even more confused to begin to process it.

“I’m guessing you wanted to ask where Y/N was going, but then I think you already know the answer to that,” Yuta pressed his lips together in a poor attempt to contain his smile.

“So, the next question would be whether to go after her, and my answer is yes,” Jeongin finished simply, Hyunjin’s lips parting and closing.

Scoffing, Hyunjin shook his head, “who said I was gonna ask about her?” he folded his arms, even though he had already begun to stand up, making Jeongin giggle.

Jeongin brought his hand up to shove Hyunjin out of the way, “dude, just go. You’re gonna make me miss the rest of this movie.”

===

You were sitting down closer to the water, thankful for the sound of the rushing water that managed to soothe you, running your fingers through your hair in a half-hearted attempt to tame it from being blown about by the breeze, giving up at one point and simply huffing, staring at the rocks as though it would give you an answer to why you were so riled up.

But what irked you even more was that even here, you seemed to be so wrapped up in your thoughts of Hyunjin that you swore you could smell that same flowery scent even here. Cursing him mentally that whatever love voodoo he was doing was strong enough to make you think of him even when you were trying everything in your power ​not to.

Well, that was until you heard someone clear their throat gently behind you, a soft, “hey,” leaving them.

So the flowery scent was real.

You huffed in annoyance, “whatever you’re doing, you have to stop it now.”

Hyunjin frowned, making his way closer to you, “I’m not ​doing​ anything,” he told you, standing in front of you now, crouching into a squat so he could be at eye-level with you.

“Don’t play dumb, just ​undo​ it,” you tried again, not understanding how even when you wanted to be annoyed at him now, you couldn’t help but find the confusion on his face more than just a little endearing, your gaze softening for just a brief moment when you caught a good look at his face.

Hyunjin shook his head, his hands coming up beside his head in surrender, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted, making you groan.

“Jeongin told me, okay? That you and the other Aphrodite children can manipulate feelings of love, I need you to stop making me feel like this,” you told him plainly, your eyes searching his face in desperation hoping that he would at least take pity on you and stop playing dumb.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, his forehead creasing slightly when he frowned, “that’s... not possible.” 

You scoffed, seeing him rest one of his knees on the ground to balance himself, “what do you mean it’s ‘​not possible​’? Of course it’s possible, if you can do it, you can undo it, right?”

Hyunjin wanted to laugh, a small exasperated scoff leaving him, unsure what to make of this entire situation, “​I mean,” ​he struggled to contain his amusement, having passed the point of exasperation, “it’s not possible because it ​doesn’t work​ on you.”

Your frown had deepened, your lower lip unknowingly forming a pout as your eyes searched his expression for any sign that he may have been joking.

“Doesn’t work?” you panicked, unsure what to make of his words, “That doesn’t make sense, what do you mean it ​doesn’t work​? How can it n​ot w​ork?” your lips parted in confusion, Hyunjin getting tired of squatting and sitting before you instead.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head, “I’m just as confused as you, okay? I really don’t know, maybe Ares gave you a thick skull too,” he raised his hands in defence, a small bout of laughter leaving him, seemingly satisfied with his own joke.

Scoffing, you folded your arms, a small silence ensuing, somehow not being able to wrap your head around your newfound information, “explain.”

Hyunjin tilted his head at you, his elbow on his knee to support his head as he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t place, “do you remember? That first day we played capture-the-flag and I told you to pick up the flag?”

You nodded, remembering that moment very well, how firm his gaze was, how sweet his tone sounded, how his proximity made you feel as though you couldn’t move, “I remember.”

“That was me trying to use my ​charmspeak​ on you, and ​failing​.”

You remembered the confusion you felt when he’d asked you to pick up the flag, your annoyance overpowering you and possibly being the reason why his abilities hadn’t worked.

“Ever since then, I realised it was ​never​ going to work on you,” he murmured, “and believe me, I would’ve known if it did. Which is why i’m telling you now,” he told you, his pace slowing down as his gaze stayed intent, enunciating his words clearly for you to hear.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, taking his lower lip between his teeth with a small pause before letting it go, his lips curving into a small smile, “that whatever you want me to undo, I ​can’t​ undo it.”

Only then did you realise the gravity of the situation, that whatever you were feeling towards Hyunjin was all coming from you, and that as much as you should’ve known, you still couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over you at the knowledge that it was ​real.

Hyunjin had taken in a deep breath before you, patiently giving you the time you needed to process whatever he’d told you, amused at the fact that you looked as though you wanted to hide.

“I don’t really... know how to explain this to you,” you admitted, seeing Hyunjin bring his hand up to cover his mouth, stifling his smile while trying to maintain a serious expression.

Hyunjin shook his head, “you can explain it however you want, you can ​not​ explain it too, if you want.”

You frowned, figuring he’d probably felt embarrassed for you, standing up and pressing your lips tightly into a firm line, a silent way of telling him that you’d wanted to leave, Hyunjin giving you an understanding nod.

Deciding that you just needed to regain your composure, you nodded, giving him an apologetic smile before you left.

===

You’d obviously consulted Jeongin in the time between that and your next meeting, the said boy claiming that he would never have seen it coming if you’d asked him a month before. Though he was no less supportive, the other daughters of Ares seemed to agree with him as well, all of them singing praises to you about Hyunjin and why you shouldn’t ‘miss this opportunity’.

Which was what ended you up at the Lake again that night, hugging your jacket closer to yourself to protect yourself against the cold breeze.

Staring at Hyunjin’s back, you took a deep breath as you made your way towards where he was seated at your usual spot, dressed in a simple shirt and sweatpants, not looking bothered at all by the cold.

“Hey,” he murmured, hearing the soft crunching of the pebbles under your shoes growing louder, a small smile on his face as you took a seat next to him, something about him not feeling as nervous as he’d expected himself to be.

Mustering a small hum in reply, you gulped, taking in a deep breath as you thought of where to start.

“Had a good day today?” you started, missing the way Hyunjin had quirked an eyebrow at you in his amusement.

He nodded, “average. Didn’t see you at dinner,” he mentioned, turning his head to look at you, silently questioning your sudden politeness.

“Yeah... wasn’t hungry. Was with Jaehyun and Jeongin at the arena.”

At the mention of Jaehyun, Hyunjin pursed his lips, his smile slowly disappearing as he nodded slowly in understanding.

“Does he like you?” he blurted abruptly, his words making your eyes widen. Once again, Hyunjin found himself ​wishing​ that Aphrodite would give him more confidence for once, especially in a time like this.

You shook your head, his words having shocked you into laughter, “oh, no, he doesn’t. He’s dating someone back home.”

“Really? But I heard from one of my sisters that—” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “your sisters? I heard it from Jaehyun himself. Trust me. He’s not interested.” 

Hyunjin had visibly relaxed, “oh...” his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, “good.” 

Turning to him, you’d raised an eyebrow at him, “good?”

He nodded, a small huff of laughter escaping him, “yeah, good. Honestly, I don’t think I'd stand a chance if he was involved.”

“What makes you say that?” you couldn’t help but laugh, in disbelief that he sounded almost threatened​ by Jaehyun.

Shrugging, Hyunjin shifted in his seat, bringing his hands behind him to support his weight, “you know, ​everybody​ loves him.”

You had to refrain from scoffing, “I think everyone loves ​you ​too.”

Hyunjin didn’t bother stopping himself, saying the first thing that had come to mind. 

“Including you?” ​Maybe Aphrodite heard him.

Your head whipped around to look at him, lips parting in shock as you met his gaze again, something about it exuding a kind of certainty that you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of, something about the fact that it was coming from Hyunjin making a warmth spread through your chest, once again reminding you that as delicate as the thought of Aphrodite was, Hyunjin never failed to show you that where there was beauty, there also came a lot of ​strength​.

You gave him a firm nod.

“Including me.”

A smile played at Hyunjin’s lips, “I’m glad you decided to meet me here.”

You huffed, “I had to,” you told him, “I had so many things I wanted to say to you, but now that i’m here it’s like... nothings coming to my head.”

Hyunjin’s smile grew, and it was such a ​Hyunjin​ thing to see. How he didn’t bother to contain his happiness, especially now, “what about you say the first thing that comes to your mind right now?”

You didn’t hesitate.

“I would say I’m thankful that whatever i’m feeling isn’t just because of magic,” you averted your gaze briefly, daring yourself to hold his gaze no matter how foreign your words felt as they left your lips, “because it’s the first time it’s ever felt so... you know, ​real.​ ”

Hyunjin nodded, “I know i’m supposed to be like... ​familiar​ with love and everything but,” Hyunjin paused, finding his gaze lingering on your lips a little too long.

“Me too,” he finished.

You knew you weren’t hallucinating when you’d seen Hyunjin leaning closer to you, his hand behind him supporting his weight as he drew closer to you, your eyes slowly closing as Hyunjin’s lips were barely next to yours, being able to feel his breath just ghosting over your lips, something about it almost sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart wasn’t beating fast, your chest didn’t feel tight, this wasn’t like anything you were used to reading about it novels or witnessing in movies, or even hearing from your friends, no. Something about this moment had felt so ​comforting​, that with each second it had only managed to draw you in even more.

“May I?” his voice came out as barely above a whisper, your breath hitching at the way you’d felt as though you were hanging from a string, the anxiety from not having done this before but the urge to just go ahead with it because it had felt so ​natural​.

And soon enough, you’d felt his lips press gently against yours, sighing a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding as you let yourself follow his lead, feeling his hand move to touch the side of your head gently, the warmth from his hand flooding into your cheeks as you felt his hair brushing against your forehead with a featherlike pressure. It was as if every tiny detail was making itself known to you with the sole purpose of making you feel as if you were in some sort of perfect situation.

Almost deepening the kiss, Hyunjin stopped himself, pulling away almost reluctantly as his thumb grazed over your lower lip gently, his eyes looking dazed and unlike anything you’d seen before.

Feeling breathless and hazy, Hyunjin had let out a small huff, a smile making itself known on his face as he caressed your cheek softly, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, standing up as if nothing had happened, though you didn’t miss the way how this time he’d held a hand out for you to take.

Accepting his hand, he helped you up, but he hadn’t let go. Instead, he’d stepped just slightly closer to you, interlocking his fingers with yours as he turned to give you a smile, his eyes forming cute crescents and exuding pure relaxed happiness, something you were glad to have grown so accustomed to seeing ​and​ experiencing with him.

“What?” you asked, not being able to help yourself from feeling shy under his gaze. 

“Walk you back to your cabin?”

[troquantary]

Didyme, Part 2: Something, Something, Plato's Allegory of the Cave

Continuing from here, and we’re doing sub-parts for this bit. I’m genuinely surprised I had this much to say. (And fun fact, I almost lost the entire goddamn post, but fortunately I was copy-pasting into Word just in case. Not today, Satan.)

2.1. What Canon Tells Us

Didyme’s murder by Aro (and with Caius’ apparent assistance, either during or afterwards), is only mentioned on the page in Life and Death, the 10th Anniversary gender-swapped version of Twilight. Edythe/Edward mentions it briefly when discussing the painting of the leaders Carine/Carlisle brought back from Volterra, but it’s just background information with little narrative weight. I bring it up just to highlight Caius’ involvement and knowledge -- I’ll get back to that.

Now, here’s the “canon” backstory we have to work with. Per the illustrated guide, Didyme was Aro’s younger sister, and he turned her at some point after meeting Marcus, Caius, and Athenadora. Interestingly, the Guide doesn’t say anything about Aro returning to Didyme out of brotherly love; apparently he just wanted to see if she would have a powerful gift like his, only to be underwhelmed (”disappointed,” according to his Guide entry) by her actual ability -- she made people happy just by being around them. Then she and Marcus fell in love, sharing “the strongest romantic bond of any of the Volturi” (from Marcus’ Guide entry), and this prompted a suddenly very single Aro to seek out his own mate, Sulpicia. The Guide says Didyme “distracted” Marcus from Aro’s goals, and that the pair eventually made plans to split off on their own, leading Aro to murder Didyme so he could hold onto Marcus and his valuable gift. Although nothing written so far suggests that Aro even liked his sister, the Guide does state that Aro “truly loved her” and that his grief upon killing Didyme was genuine.

Apparently Caius’ role in all is was something Meyer thought up later, because none of the leaders’ Guide entries mention him being in on it. (You can’t see me, but I’m staring pointedly at Part One.)

2.2. Fuck Canon, Actually

(This just seemed like the funniest place for a cut. Continued below~)

I’ll be honest with you, person who’s persistent/unfortunate enough to still be here: very little about this murder scenario makes sense to me. I’m going to start with the “disappointing” nature of Didyme’s gift and that it was supposedly much less useful to Aro than Marcus’, because that’s just...stupid, frankly, and there’s no way Aro would have missed the inherent utility of Didyme’s gift. I don’t even have to read into anything to get this idea -- the Guide itself shows us how useful it is! It says right there in Marcus’ entry that Aro went off to turn Didyme, and returned with his sister, “along with the first members of the guard -- vampires who were drawn to Didyme’s aura of happiness.” That is a direct quote.

Just -- I practically shrieked when I read that. You’re telling me that Didyme’s gift was the stated reason their coven got its first subordinates, and I’m supposed to believe that Aro thought that was disappointing? Fuck off! Fuck off!! Even if Didyme’s happiness aura isn’t as powerful as Corin’s opium haze, well, Aro doesn’t have Corin yet, does he? He has every reason in the world to want to keep Didyme around, drawing other vampires to his cause -- even if most of those vampires aren’t gifted or skilled enough to join the guard, it’s still good PR.

At this early stage in the Volturi’s rise to power, it isn’t a good time to lose Didyme -- or any of his inner coven, really. Yet Aro apparently considered her disposable enough that he killed her. I can’t square this with what we know about Aro: that he’s still coherent despite holding god-knows how many people’s lives in his head; that he’s very intelligent; that he’s cunning, charming, and persuasive. Aro, once he learned they were thinking about leaving, would have tried to talk to Didyme and Marcus and done everything in his power to convince them to stay just a bit longer, until the Volturi’s position was more secure. And maybe he did; the timeline of all this is hazy, but nothing in the Guide suggests that Aro jumped straight to duplicity and murder. Clearly, though, whatever negotiations or arguments he presented failed. So what does their desire to leave the Volturi at this critical stage say about Didyme, or Marcus for that matter?

2.3. What It Says About Didyme and Marcus (Mostly Headcanon)

Brace yourself, because we’re into full headcanon territory now. To follow me, please refer to @therealvinelle ‘s meta about the larger mission of the Volturi and why they’re necessary, because I’m starting from the perspective that the Volturi are ultimately a force working in vampires’ and humans’ favor. While Meyer and the Guide would have you believe that Aro’s just power-hungry, actually looking at the impact of the Volturi and the benefits of enforcing secrecy shows that his broader vision isn’t just world domination, but establishing a world in which vampires and humans can both thrive and endure. There’s no way the rest of the inner coven was unaware of this goal; we know Aro talks a lot, so he’s certainly talked his coven’s ears off about this.

Now, we know very little about Marcus and what he was like before he was all dead inside. Based on what would be a logical balance of personalities, with Aro as lead decision-maker and Caius as ruthless enforcer, it seems likely that Marcus was originally the voice of reason and/or mercy. I also think Marcus would have had a strong sense of duty. The Guide says that Aro was the first friend Marcus had as a vampire, and I believe that Marcus cared about him very much and was committed to the Volturi. I think he would have been genuinely conflicted about leaving, especially considering the stabler, safer world the Volturi have been striving to build, and which they haven’t yet secured. Again, it’s a very bad time for any of the leadership to split off -- but in the end, Marcus and Didyme are going to do it anyway.

What for, though? Why leave? @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin has an interesting take on that question here: that Didyme saw that she and Marcus would be locked into the Volturi life and a thankless existence for eternity and tried to opt out while she still could. I like it a lot, it’s a great post and that scenario makes sense, but the tone of it feels...too forgiving. Maybe that’s because I’m evil. But the way I see it, given the magnitude of the Volturi’s mission, and its (at best) very tenuous grip on power at the time Marcus and Didyme plan to leave (they haven’t even defeated the Romanians yet), jeopardizing the entire operation so that they can pursue their romance unburdened strikes me as...well, fundamentally selfish on some level, so much that I find myself side-eyeing Didyme and Marcus for it. Although to be clear, it’s not the desire to live their own lives apart from the Volturi that I find selfish, just the timing of their departure.

Honestly, I’d like not to vilify another female character if I don’t have to. Given everything I’ve just said, I see Didyme in much the same way as I see Bella: not a bad person, but someone with definite selfish tendencies. At best, she’s likely short-sighted or naive if she doesn’t see how leaving the Volturi at this stage is fucking them over in a big way. However, I hesitate to read into the happiness aura as a straightforward indication of Didyme’s fundamental goodness; I think she probably was kind, charming, and delightful to be around, hence the nature of her gift -- but that capacity for selfishness is still there. (I’m certain Meyer wants us to take her gift as proof of Didyme’s goodness, to reinforce how evil Aro is for killing her...but I think I’ve made my disdain for what Meyer wants me to think pretty clear.)

2.4. MURDER MOST FOUL

I am not saying it was justifiable or okay for Aro to murder his sister. I’m really not. It’s actually better, from a character standpoint, that it isn’t okay -- that Aro has to carry this with him for the rest of his life while Marcus sits in the throne next to him, reduced to a husk, so that in effect Aro has lost them both after all. It’s got that Greek tragedy element @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin​ mentioned in her post. (Even better from that standpoint, the Guide implies that Aro found Chelsea relatively soon after killing Didyme, which compounds the tragedy.) I mean, it’s terrible, and it hurts me because I love Aro, but it’s compelling stuff.

What I am saying is, I can see how their insistence on leaving might have deeply hurt and offended him. And that brings me to my issue with the calculated murder scenario the Guide gives us -- I still think Didyme’s gift is too valuable for Aro to throw away by killing her in cold...venom (or whatever), even as the price for keeping Marcus in the fold. Plus, there’s the fact that Aro does love Didyme, and I imagine her gift makes it very difficult for people to think of harming her...when they’re calm, anyway.

Yeah, the only way I can really see the murder happening is if Aro killed Didyme in the heat of an argument about her leaving, possibly even by accident -- except you can’t accidentally kill a vampire, can you? It’s a very deliberate process wherein you have to dismember them and burn every piece, which also means it probably takes long enough that any irrational, overwhelming rage would wear off before you were done. But now that you’ve started....

I mean, at that point it would certainly be awkward to put your half-rubble sister back together, and Aro would be in a whole other load of shit even if he did. It’s possible, given what we’re told, that Aro could have lashed out and yanked Didyme’s head off before snapping out of it, only to realize that his sole option now is to finish the job. If he doesn’t kill Didyme now, she and Marcus won’t just leave, they’ll be sworn enemies of Aro from then on. And thanks to Didyme’s gift being the draw for a lot of the guard, and the inherently bad look of a leader who would brutally attack his own sister, a chunk of the guard would probably leave with them, destroying Aro’s plans. No, the only way to salvage it is to follow through.

Then Aro has to call in Caius for help with the cover-up, because it wasn’t actually planned and it’s just pure luck that no one walked in on the murder as it was happening.

And maybe Aro learns a hard lesson about learning to let people walk away, leaving the possibility open that they could be drawn in again. Because if Aro had just waited, he would have found Chelsea, and with her gift he could have had Marcus and Didyme back again.

Assuming everything didn’t fall apart as soon as they left, of course. But that’s a whole other what-if scenario.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Vár (Ivar’s PoV)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Vár: spring (Old Norse)

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: A little bit of insight into the aftermath of Chapter 36 and his perspective of the events of Chapter 37

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, references to smut and explicit bits. My boy is a sub and I am unable to write him in any other way, it seems. Then, just the usual for the story.

A/N: So yeah, companion piece to 37!

And listen, lemme share a secret with ya: I tried my hardest not making Ivar a bottom/sub in this, I truly did, but...I failed. So, if sub!Ivar ain’t your thing (it’s not explicit exactly, but it’s there, and I am sometimes bothered by descriptions of him in a very dominant position so I’d understand if the opposite happens to you, which is why I’m warning you), feel free to skip past the first ____ and you’re good. Thank you!

To say that in the last few days Ivar has grown fascinated -addicted, you’d argue- to exploring your body and every sound you make would be an understatement.

There’s a surge of pride inside his chest that hasn’t left him since that night, a satisfaction at knowing he can satisfy a woman, at knowing the most beautiful woman he knows, the woman they all want, wants him.

Ivar cannot get enough of the sight of you lost in the throes of the pleasure he gives you, and he loses his breath alongside with his mind each time your voice turns rougher and your hand -delicate, soft hand that somehow has the strength of Fenrir’s bindings when you touch him- grips onto his own as his fingers curl deep inside of you, your free hand pushing him down against the bed, sometimes close enough to his throat that Ivar has to grit his teeth to keep a plea of your name from leaving his lips; when you, in all the arrogance and the might that he hates and loves in equal measure, still his movements with a wrap of your fingers around his wrist and instead of having him give you pleasure you take it, you demand from him whatever you want and…Gods, that’s a sight he doesn’t think he will never get enough of.

And he’s addicted to the taste of you; to the sounds you make when he works his mouth and his tongue against you, chants of his name that reverberate through his chest and make him almost tremble with the realization that he is the reason behind them, that leave him warm and proud because he made you feel this way, and your moans and sighs and whimpers are gentle praise washing over him; to the way you grip and tug at his hair, bordering on pain and making shivers and something else run down his spine, and your thighs shake, and your back arches off the bed, and you come apart, and it is because of him, only he can do this to you, only him is who you want to do this to you, and he knows he is addicted, he knows there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for this, for you.

There’s still a part of him -and there will always be, a part of him that grows louder some days- that resents that this also has to be different, that not even in sex he can be normal.

And that part of him, a part of him made of snarls that demanded answers from the Gods and of wrath and promises of death whispered in the ear of a slave; that part was quietened, pliant, satisfied, in your arms that night when you kissed him, stealing his breath and his mind and his heart, and reached down to touch him.

He once wished he had the words to tell you to do with him -with his body, defective and lacking as he sees it- what you wished, to tell you to claim the rest of him as ruthlessly as you claimed his heart; and it is that need, and that awe at the unwavering woman that kissed him until he ached and unwaveringly whispered more than any other man in my life, I want you; that made him take so long to stop you, that night.

He still remembers what it felt like, surrendering to you in that brief moment. He still remembers how it felt like his head was filled with noise and his heart and breath was out of his control.

He remembers how he could feel everywhere you were touching him, your lips on his neck pressing soft kisses in the places you had bitten and licked, your chest to his side almost holding him up when he leaned into you, your hand squeezing softly and moving over him with increasing pressure, making electricity run down his spine and heat coil low in his stomach.

And he remembers allowing himself to give in, and how good it felt. How he surrendered to falling and yet he didn’t, because you were there, soft breaths and gentle touches; how your delicate hand was so different from…that woman’s cold and distant touch, or from his own rough and desperate grip as he tried uselessly to prove to himself that night had been a mistake, a nightmare.

Ivar remembers how good it felt, and how overwhelming, and how easy it would have been to surrender then. For once, it could have been easy, because he trusts you and you love him and you want him and…

But no, no, it couldn’t be. Because he would fail, and he’d see the disgust in your eyes, and he’d feel the shame and the pain again, and couldn’t. So he stopped you. He had to.

He had to. Right?

Yes, of course he did. He needs to remember what his reality is, he needs to remember what failure feels like, and he needs to remember it would burn all the more if it were you he failed.

You could never fail me, Ivar, no matter what, you told him, and he knows you meant it, he trusts you, but saying something is not the same as knowing it.

And it is easy, it always is, to remember what that night felt like. The dawning horror, the pain, the humiliation, the anger. It is easy to remember, it is easy to still feel the burning shame, the anguish, the desperate need to curse and plea with the Gods for a reason why.

And because it is so easy to remember, and because his mind sometimes torments him with dreams of being in that situation again only it is your eyes looking back, and it isn’t false comfort from a slave, but your voice unfaltering and biting as you snarl at him the words he thinks of himself sometimes; that he stops you that night, and he doesn’t regret it. You don’t push since, and he’s almost thankful for that.

____

This isn’t the first night you take Valdís’ son in your arms and spend most of the feast talking with the boy and making him laugh. But it is the first time the sight leaves Ivar unable to look away.

The blonde boy looks up at you with big eyes, and your smile is unlike anything Ivar has ever seen when you look down at him.

“I haven’t told you of Achilles yet, have I?” You ask, chuckling at the eager shake of the boy’s head. “Well, he was the strongest of all men,” You tell him, exaggerating your features and the gestures of your free hand, “No sword could pierce his skin, no army was a match for him, and all of Greece knew of his fame.

Ivar knows this story, you told him many times before of the wars of your homeland and the legends the Greeks once were, when their Gods were with them. Still, he ignores everything else and focuses on the way you gesture and talk as you tell the young boy the story, while Valdís’ son looks at you with wide eyes as you recall some of the Demigod’s victories in the Trojan War and those that came before.

You lean closer to the boy, whispering your next words as if sharing a secret.

“But he had a secret weakness, something that could end him.”

“No!” He cries, surprise and innocent interest in his expression. You chuckle, but continue the tale.

“You see, he was invincible, except his heel.”

“His heel?” The boy repeats, and you nod severely. You press cold fingers against the boy’s heel, and smile when he releases a laugh.

“If he was struck there, he was just a man, no longer a fearsome warrior, no longer invincible,” You confess and finish with a sad smile, “An arrow went through his heel while he was fighting, and Achilles died.”

“But he died fighting!” The boy insists. Ivar notices your confusion at the turn of the conversation, but you still nod, murmuring your assent. The child’s expression switches from mildly anguished to determined and somewhat serene, “Then he’s in Valhalla, with all the others. I will meet him when I’m old like you and ask him to tell me more stories.”

There’s a strange glint in your eye when he says that, the same one you had when Ivar told you Keres and Valkyries sound like one and the same, the same one you have when you speak of the life beyond this one.

You shake it off soon enough, and your expression is fierce when you stare down at the shieldmaiden’s son.

“But first you ought to grow strong, and once you’ve grown you ought to fight and persevere, Aghi, so that you have stories to tell him when you meet him in Valhalla.”

“You sound like mama.”

“Because I am always right!” Valdís yells from her side of the table, and Ivar watches as you laugh at the shieldmaiden’s words, before leaning close to press a kiss to the boy’s blonde hair.

“Puts ideas in your head, doesn’t it?” Ubbe’s voice startles Ivar, and he turns to his brother with a scowl that the other man ignores, keeping his focus ahead, “She’d be a good mother.”

There’s a part of him that Ivar was never quite capable of extinguishing that wants to rely on Ubbe, wants to tell him how impossible it is for him to make you a mother, wants to trust his big brother in all the annoying and pitiful patience he still holds towards Ivar.

But he doesn’t, he would never speak of such things, not even with Ubbe. He still hears a voice tell him how pathetic and weak he was for needing your comfort when he spoke out loud about his inability to be a father.

Instead of sharing that, Ivar leans back on his chair and turns to Ubbe with raise brows.

“How come you don’t have children yet?” He asks, but there’s no malice behind his tone. Or, he doesn’t intend for it to be. With a tilt of his head, he adds, “Have you forgotten your duty to marry and breed, brother?”

Ubbe chuckles, remembering as much as Ivar -perhaps even more than he does, since he is the eldest- their mother’s words.

“Very irresponsible of me, I know.” His older brother comments, the smile turning a little bittersweet before Ubbe takes a gulp from his drink.

He won’t lie to himself and say it is his short conversation with Ubbe what makes him linger on the stupid thoughts of a family. Those thoughts, those images of a life for a very long time he hasn’t dared even think about, have been with him since you told him we can have children.

Ivar knows it should unsettle him, at least more than it already does, how easily you have made him completely trust in you. Enough to speak of the shame he has carried with him since that damn night with Margrethe, enough to believe you when you told him that there was a way to have what he wanted even if not through normal means. He’s never done things the normal way, though, has he?

He watches you put your hands up as claws in front of you, and fake a growl as you pretend to threaten Valdís’ son, and finds his lips pulling into a smile.

He wonders what stories you’d tell your children, he wonders what your sons would say of their mother, he wonders what your daughters would inherit from you.

And Ivar lets himself imagine it. He mead softens the edges of his thoughts; and your smile warms him more than the alcohol ever could; and you love him, you told him you do, and you told him one day the two of you could have a family; and he doesn’t stop himself from imagining what it would be like.

He imagines what it would be like to return home to find not only you waiting for him at the docks, but a few sons and daughters eager to hear of their father’s triumphs. You told him that his children would have his strength and his intelligence, but he wants them to have your resolve and maybe even your arrogance.

He imagines what it would be like to hear you late at night telling your children of the beasts and heroes of your homeland, only for Ivar to interrupt just as he does now, with arguments about how the world is according to his Gods and his ways. Even if not of your blood or his, your children would inherit the world if Ivar -and you, most likely- had any say in it, he knows this.

And later that night the shieldmaiden takes the boy from your arms and gives you a one-armed hug goodbye, and you make your way back to Ivar, and sit on the armrest of his chair and lean against him when his arm wraps around your waist, and he doesn’t let go of it, of that fantasy, of those images.

You are here with him, and he can pretend winter can last for as long as wishes it to.

____

The night was supposed to be as any other. The night was supposed to be one of the comfortable intimacy he’s grown to revel in and your soft touches and your words of love. He was supposed to be able to hold on to this, to you, for as long as winter lasted.

Winter was supposed to last.

But, he thinks bitterly as he undoes the last clasp on the brace of his leg, why did eh think something was going to be normal for him? Even the seasons may be different for Ivar the Boneless.

And he starts asking questions, partly because he hates it when you’re quiet, partly because he wants your voice to overpower the one that tells him she’s leaving she’s leaving she’s leaving.

Ivar knows what will win at the end. He isn’t an idiot, he knows nostalgia will win every time. He knows no matter how many times he beckons you to him you will always answer the call of your homeland, he knows a piece of land was enough of a reward to make you survive endless things and he knows that piece of land is nothing compared to having your people back with you.

He should have spared some men to find the bodies of the Greeks, to confirm to himself they were all truly dead like Stithulf said they were. Too worried with the foreign witch he wanted to bring to Kattegat, he overlooked it, and now he pays for it.

Because then, then he could have killed them all and left them in some field you’d never find out about, he could have done what Stithulf couldn’t. Then, he could have killed them all without an ounce of guilt or a moment of hesitation. Then, he wouldn’t have anything to lose by doing something unforgivable.

And so now all he can think about is how stupid he was, how foolishly blinded he let himself become; not only then, but now. Now, imagining a future with you, a family with you; imagining what stories you’d tell your sons and daughters, dreaming of an eternity with you at his side and children to tell your stories, his story.

You hesitate only for a breath when he asks you where they are now, and it is enough to make the dread and the wrath grow inside him. And for all they whisper and fear Ivar the Boneless’ rage, they don’t speak of how needed it is, of how much he depends on it.

It is the one thing holding him together, more often than not.

And he holds on to that anger when he accuses, “Are you trying to hide where they went, hm? Shield them from me?”

He doesn’t hear your answer, but he knows he interrupts you when you’re talking, and he knows that you hate it when he does that. Good. He wants you to be angry.

“I don’t need your permission or your help to find them,” He tells you, and you both know it is true. And he wants to, he wants to find them and see for himself what it is of these people and their home that is enough to take you away from him. Ivar can’t help but imagine you surrounded by your people, smile wide and warm and happy, and without him. He knows you’ve dreamt of it, that since learning they are alive you’ve probably spent so much time thinking what your reunion with the people that call you Anassa will be like. And he wants to take that from you, he wants to make the fantasy shatter before your eyes, he wants to make you see how easily stupid and pathetic fantasies of love and a future and happiness are lost. He wants you to feel like he does. And so he pushes where he knows it will hurt, he threatens your fantasy of nostalgia and reunion with what he knows can make it shatter, “I could have them all killed. Tie each of them to a pyre and burn them alive.”

There it is, the hardening of your stance, the coldness in your eyes, and though a part of him hates it, and something churns at his stomach when your voice lowers and your expression betrays nothing, this is exactly what he wanted.

He wants you to let go of foolish dreams of fields of flowers and the warmth of the sun, he wants you to let die the part of you that insists you are a daughter of Greece, he wants you to end the fantasy he knows you have to have been holding onto about returning to your Eleusis and your sunny places.

And, of course, you fight back, and your voice rises alongside your temper. Stubborn, maddening woman that you are, you refuse to back down.

He gestures with his arm and knocks over the small vase of some almost-lifeless plant you kept there, and his eyes watch it fall to the ground.

At the tip of his tongue there’s a curse about how many fucking plants you keep in this room and every other room you get your hands on, but he bites the words back -or chokes on them- because it is with horrifying certainty that he realizes the plants would die without you, and they would disappear, and the mark of you in his world would easily disappear, once you leave.

Ivar’s eyes linger on the pitiful green leaves that lay there on the floor, and he remembers you telling him about this one, he remembers seeing this one near Kattegat.

And he realizes, to his doom or his salvation, if there are such things, that this is a new plant, that you brought it here in the time he was gone, most likely after you knew about your people.

And this one and countless other little planters and vases litter the room, put there for you to look after them, promises of permanence scattered through the room you and Ivar share.

He wants to believe that is what they are. That they are proof you can find a way to keep your fields of flowers and your sunny home with you even if the place he brought you to is cold and harsh; and not desperate attempts to keep the home he took you from with you in any way possible.

He wishes he could ask, just as he wishes he could ask you why you aren’t with them, why, when you have had so many opportunities to do so, you choose to stay.

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t want to hear the answer he already knows. That Stithulf is the one thing keeping you with him.

Later you settle against him on the bed, as warm and as soft as you always are -he doesn’t understand why he expected different-, and Ivar doesn’t resist the urge to pull you closer.

He presses his lips against you with as much softness as he can muster, with as much of the gentleness you deserve but he doesn’t have in him he can give you, and tells you that he loves you. He has loved you for a long time, longer than he cares to admit, though he doesn’t know why it is now the moment he chooses to tell you.

It is foolish, he knows it is, but the admission hurts, the admission is jagged edges and raw nerves and it speaks of the possibility of losing you. Then again, to Ivar that is what love is: jagged edges and raw nerves and the always present fear of losing.

Because his head reminds him, with his fumbled thoughts chasing one another in circles, that admitting to loving you now of all times, now that you have them waiting for you, now that you have proven to yourself and to him that you could leave Kattegat and he’d be none the wiser, now that he is unmoored and unsteady and pitifully afraid; isn’t a smart thing to do, that it is a pathetic attempt to pretend he and whatever he can offer you are enough to get you to choose to stay, and that you know it.

Though the kiss you press against his chest gives him a brisk moment of warmth, it leaves as quickly as it washes over him, and Ivar looks up at the nothingness above him as you relax into sleep.

Because he knows it isn’t enough. Love isn’t enough to keep you from your duty, from your legacy; he isn’t enough to keep you from your homeland, this realm isn’t enough to keep you from your fields of flowers.

There’s nothing he can do, even if he wants to. Even if he imagines and plans a way to find the Greeks and kill them all before they get a chance at stealing you from him, he knows that if you choose them -of you choose to leave him- there’s no binds that can keep you with him.

If you choose to leave not even iron shackles can keep you with him, because Ivar knows all he will have of you is the snarling curses and the cold and cruel glances.

And so the night goes on and he keeps unseeing eyes on the ceiling above him, holding you close and finding himself as shackled, as powerless, as he once made you. Ivar wonders briefly if your Gods have found a way to punish him for what he did, he remembers you once told him they would scorn him for taking a Hiereia and making her a slave, for taking your choice from you.

And now he is the one without a choice. If he does something to keep you, or if he doesn’t, it doesn’t matter, because one way or another, when the day comes and you choose to leave him, you will.

____ ____ ____

Thank you so much for reading, I hope this was okay, and I hope it could clarify a bit more of Ivar’s actions/reactions in Chapter 37. As for the title choice, it is mainly due ot how I like playing with the ideas of what spring and winter can mean, same as with Persephone and Hades’ roles. While Ivar of course represents Hades, it is Ivar who returns to Kattegat to kickstart the winter in Chapter 35, for example. In the case of this chapter, and Chapter 37, the winter is settling as a season, but the element of change that spring is characterized with becomes apparent in this chapter, moreso for Ivar than for the Reader; hence the title.

Sorry for the ramble, I’m a mess lol. Thank you for reading, I hope you’re doing good!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss   @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter @chibisgotovalhalla @the-a-word-2214​ @fae-sedai​ @crazybunnyladysworld​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside​  

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 3

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 5 k

note: hey, y'all. so last month i went on a new year's trip to my boyfriend's city (yes, covid has forced us into an ldr, fml) and got too occupied in all the celebrations and reunions, and this got delayed. also, you might have noticed how the chapters progressively grow wordier, lmao i'd been confused. but i think i've found the perfectly comfortable number now. expect this length from now on. thank you for reading~💜

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

You were, to be very honest, a complete mess at this point.

You hadn’t been quite certain as to what to expect when you’d picked Jungkook’s name out of the bowl in your office, but you could say with certainty that it hadn’t been even close to this. 

This boy was brimming with ideas! You hadn’t been able to get a single sentence in the midst of his own enthusiastic chatter, with words and ideas folding and layering all over each other. All you had done was nod, mumble words of agreement and appreciation—that you were pretty sure he didn’t even hear—and type it all. Freaking typing. So much typing.

So basically, the entirety of yesterday spent fussing over the repertoires to ensure that the list of tasks for the first set of three weeks were well-constructed had led to this—not being able to so much as tell him about the questions your team had so meticulously framed! You felt irked, amused, exasperated, exhausted, and at the same time, really fucking lost. 

How were you supposed to interrupt him without disrespecting him? You didn’t have a great amount of tact and usually just cut to the chase. Which was generally an appreciated quality in your profession, because no writer wanted to be just lathered with compliments to later find out his work was actually bullshit that no one wanted to read. But this situation was different. You felt pressured, nervous and out of your element. Because you really had no idea how to respectfully stop this guy from making a mess of all your hard work.

He was Jeon freaking Jungkook of BTS, for God’s sake!

How could you shut him up?

You were both in Jungkook’s personal studio in the BTS dorm. The boy was seated on a couch across the coffee table from your own, literally swimming in a trillion size bigger t-shirt and some loose sweatpants. His hair floof-ed all over the place as he spoke, bubbling and bursting with enthusiasm. Which he was doing a lot of. Speaking, that is.

For the better part of two hours now, you’d been listening to him go on and on about what all he wanted to include in the book. Your fingers were nearly cramping with all the typing, but you’d promised the guys no recorders and you didn’t wanna miss anything he said. But it was freaking difficult with the speed he was going at! 

And also with the mess and reluctance in your own head. You were used to pulling the reins with writers. This situation was making you feel incompetent.

You hadn’t even touched your list, yet. What would your teammates think of you if their very team leader failed to finish with the assigned data collection and messed up the team’s hard work? Ugh!

Currently, Jungkook was having you make a list of all the people he needed to talk about in the book.

“And there was this boy my age, Ji-Hyun, he was so much better than me at everything! It is him, truly, that I credit my overachieving traits to. I had to work so, so hard—oh! Please also note down Mun-Hee’s name! She was the best dancer in my entire school. So… wait, where was I?” He looked up at you with wide big, round eyes.

You opened your mouth to speak—was this when you asked him to shut up? It had to be, right, because this was the first time he’d actually prompted you to speak. 

You meant to take your shot, but then stopped. You blinked. Looked back at your laptop. Blinked again. 

You were so confused, right now. “Uh, Ji-Hyun was better than you—”

“Oh yes!” Jungkook exclaimed, launching off into a detailed story about how and in what respects, exactly, this guy was better than Jungkook.

You shut your eyes. This had gone beyond “taking notes” and was quickly turning into Jungkook enthusiastically reminiscing his childhood and freaking telling you tales about it. And he seemed to be enjoying himself so thoroughly, looking so adorable, that it felt very wrong to ask him to stop even when you tried to avoid the added pressure of him being a whole ass idol.

But you had actual work to do. And you were leading a team. You couldn’t act so unprofessionally.

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have told the boys that this was going to be like “making friends.” Jungkook seemed to have taken it too literally.

Biting down on your lip, you cleared your throat. He didn’t acknowledge it. Sighing, you shut your laptop. “Jungkook?”

This time, he stopped mid-word, looking at you with his lips rounded in a pout, sparkling eyes turning into saucers. 

Now, you were in no way attracted to the guy, but you really could not deny how freaking cute he looked in the moment. 

“All okay?” he asked, looking at you and then the shut laptop on your lap.

You took a deep breath, winced a little, and then shook your head. “No, Jungkook. We need to pause…” You had to stop speaking when his face crumpled. “Whoa…um?”

Jungkook slumped in his place, shoulders sinking. “I’ve been giving horrible ideas, haven’t I?”

Your eyes widened. “What? No! Absolutely not! That isn’t the case, I was…”

He wiped his face with both his hands before looking at you with really sad eyes, all enthusiasm from some time ago washed away. “Then what? You can tell me, it’s okay.”

Now. You prided yourself to be a practical human being who strived to be as straightforward in her life as possible. But right now, you really could not stop yourself from lying your way out of this one. You decided to blame it on the fear of upsetting a client, and not the impossible-to-control empathy that Jungkook’s doe eyes seemed to naturally draw out of people. 

“I just need a coffee. It’s been a while, my hands need a break. And my brain’s kinda overwhelmed, too,” you expertly lied, relaxing when Jungkook’s eyebrows lifted.

“We’ve been sitting here for long, haven’t we?” he said in an almost guilty tone before standing up. “And I didn’t even show you around the dorm!”

You tried to tell him how it was really not necessary, not to mention a bit too personal and…not what you were here for? But he was already moving towards the door and beckoning you along.

“Come on, let’s drop by the kitchen and then we’ll take a walk around the property!” he enthusiastically announced.

You stood up and followed him out of the room, awkwardly trying to ignore the two bodyguards that had stood as still as mannequins while you were in the room and then started to follow Jungkook wordlessly as you left.

The walk to the kitchen was a short one, and the place was, unsurprisingly, not empty.

Your team members along with their partnered BTS members had been assigned one particular space in the dorm, each. According to the email you received last evening, the kitchen was supposed to be used by Simon and— 

“Taehyungie-hyung! Are those chicken burgers?” Jungkook excitedly rounded the kitchen island to peek into the paper bag Taehyung was fiddling with. “They smell so good…”

You looked from Jungkook’s face that was awash with childlike excitement to Taehyung’s, and your breath caught when you found his eyes already trained on you. While you struggled to formulate a coherent thought at the intensity his eyes seemed to be emanating, yet again, his lips slipped into an easy smile.

“Hello!” he greeted you cheerily, bowing his head.

You, dazedly, bowed back and dragged your feet up to the island, standing across from the two guys. “Hey,” you mumbled in English.

His smile widened further to show his teeth. “Food?” he asked you in English, nodding at the burger Jungkook was pulling out of the bag.

You shook your head. “No, coffee,” you responded in Korean, earning raised eyebrows from him.

“I hate coffee.”

You smiled, this time. “You’re missing out.”

“Can I call you by your name?” he asked out of the blue, and you did a double take.

“Uh…yes?” you stammered. “Yes, of course Taehyung-ssi.”

“You should call me Tae.”

You swallowed, continually nodding your head like a damn puppet. “Yes. Tae. Sure.”

“I’m bac—boss?” 

You twisted on your heels at the familiar squeak. “Simon, hi,” you mumbled, professionalism slipping over you in the blink of an eye at having a member of your team in your vicinity. “Where did you wander off to?”

Simon seemed to be sweating a bit, and you really couldn’t really tell why. You’d just asked a simple question. 

Maybe you’d become too scary…

“Just the loo,” Simon responded with a forced giggle. 

You nodded, giving him a long look and observing how his smile grew progressively weirder. Then you turned back to the island. And nearly choked.

Taehyung’s fringe hung over his eyes, making his eyes look that much more hooded. His lips were twisted up as he watched you.

Oh, dear God, did this guy have a crush on you or something? But how? Why? 

He was a bonafide Greek God, and you were…well. Not.  

And needless to say, he was literally not allowed to have a crush on you. Or anybody else, for that matter. It was against BigHit’s policies. According to what you’d read, the boys were to wait out one more year, as of now, before indulging in any sort of romance.

You were, by contract, also bound to not encourage any such advancements. Not that smiling at you could be considered one, to be honest. He could very well be trying to make friends, and you could be reading too much into it.

You decided to stop thinking so much.

“You want to eat something?” Jungkook asked as he handed you a cup of brew.

You smiled and shook your head. “I don’t eat at work. None of us do.” You eyed Simon and he nodded with his gaze wide. “Disturbs the momentum.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t consider this strictly work,” Taehyung spoke up in that deep ass voice of his, startling you. “We’re also making friends, here. This is also not your office, but our home.”

And then he grinned at you with all of his teeth. You felt your cheeks heating up.

This was not going according to plan. 

You were panicking.

Flashing Taehyung a close-lipped smile, you stepped away from the counter. “Um, Jungkook?” you mumbled. “D’you guys have a pool in the house?” 

Jungkook looked surprised but as enthusiastic as ever. He nodded, his hair bouncing all over. “Come on!”

Throughout your walk around the house, you had tried to slip in ideas from your first three week’s layout to Jungkook that would fascinate him enough to make him at least want to hear them out. And, you’d proudly like to claim, it had worked.

Jungkook had heard your plans and had even asked you to pull the list up on your laptop to have a look at it. And henceforth, you’d made tremendous progress.

And now, at nearly nine o’clock of the night, you and your team were taking your leave for the day. 

You had exchanged brief words with all the members to see how they found their partners. Currently, you were conversing with Yoongi.

“ARMYs know a lot about all of that,” the guy said, referring to his life before BTS. “But there’s still a lot that they don’t. I talked to Nathan about all of it, we made notes. I’m really excited about the book.”

You gave him a professional grin. “I couldn’t be happier! Nathan’s got a really innovative mind. I’m sure he’ll make this a good experience for you.”

Nodding, Yoongi wished you a good night and bowed. You bowed back, moving away from the building and towards the vans waiting to drive you back to your hotel.

Jimin flashed you a wide grin as you got into the car. “Have a good night,” he wished you, shutting the door like a gentleman. Then he peeked and waved at Areum, your team member assigned to him. “See you tomorrow, Areum-ssi!”

Namjoon followed suit with a hand forwarded through the window for you to shake. “How did today go for you?” he asked you in English, causing Hoseok to elbow Jungkook, probably asking the younger to eavesdrop. Jungkook’s eyes met yours, though, and the two of you shared a covert giggle. “Did we meet your expectations?”

You smiled, formally. “It was… a good introduction of sorts, I’d say. Highly informative. Moderately productive. And we didn’t have any expectations, per se, but my team really loved you guys. We’re super excited to be working with you.”

You looked around yourself, prompting the three team members seated with you to nod in agreement. “Likewise!” Namjoon nodded at you, his smile turning his eyes to crescent moons.

“Thank you. How was your experience with Sana?” you asked him, nudging the girl sitting next to you.

Namjoon grinned with his teeth. “Amazing! She’s really compassionate and driven. Today’s session was interesting and felt comfortable. I’m eagerly looking forward to more.”

You secretly exhaled in relief. Sana had been the one person on your team that you’d been the most worried about. It was good to learn that she’d managed to impress Namjoon despite her initial nerves.

Next to you, she gave a short, very professional chuckle, and leant by you to nod at Namjoon. “Thank you, Namjoon-ssi.”

“Have a safe journey and a good night,” Namjoon wished you before peeking into the car. “Bye, Sana! See you tomorrow!”

You waved at the boys and their manager as your van started to move. You looked behind to check that the other one, carrying the remaining three members of your team, was following closely behind.

“What a day!” Simon exclaimed from his seat opposite you.

“You can say that again,” you mumbled, massaging your temples. “And what was up with you? You looked really wound up when I saw you in the kitchen.”

Simon took his glasses off and rested his head against the back of the van’s seat. “Let’s just wait it out, boss. I’ll tell you later if I absolutely have to. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

You frowned, but let him be. 

Today was just the first day. If you stuck to your schedule, you would have a hundred and twenty five more of these before this project was done.

You could do it.

Right?

You, as it turned out by the end of the first week, could do it. The same couldn’t be said about Simon, though.

On Saturday night, barely an hour after you’d all retired to your rooms after dinner, Simon sent an SOS to the group chat. The six of you were in his room within a minute.

“You look physically okay,” Nathan, the only other guy on the team, mumbled as he squinted at the bespectacled nervous wreck. “What’s up?”

“I can’t do this anymore!” Simon blurted out.

All eyes immediately landed on you.

You did a double take. “Come again? You can’t do what anymore?”

He sighed, shrinking into himself as Riya, another member of your team, sleepily sat on one corner of his bed. “You can’t quit the project, Si,” she mumbled, patting his shoulder. “You signed a contract.”

Simon’s wide eyes met yours. You raised your eyebrows.

“Then—then I need a different partner.”

Sana clicked her tongue. “No can do. We’ve all worked on our homeworks. No one’s gonna sacrifice theirs for you.”

You agreed, so you stayed quiet when Simon looked at you in hopes of a counter.

“I can’t go into another week, please! It’s…” Simon trailed off with a helpless expression on his face.

You sighed. “Everyone, out.”

Your team trickled out of the room, tossing curious glances and hushed whispers your way.

“What is it?” you questioned Simon when it was just the two of you.

“He’s too intense. I have a huge crush on him.”

Your jaw fell open. “Dude… I… what? You have a fiance!”

He exhaled. “Yeah, he cheated on me.”

You drew a sharp breath, shocked. “Oh. Oh, my God, what? What the hell’s been going on with you, I’m so sorry, Simon. Are you…okay? When did you find out?”

“I’d been suspicious for a whole week, hoping it’d turn out to be a lie.” He sighed. “Guess not. But, don’t worry.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll deal with it, no big deal. It’s happened before. I’ve done it before, too, that’s not the issue. The problem is that, right now, this is all making me wanna kiss Taheyung. What the fuck do I do, boss?”

You sympathised with the guy and felt responsible, in a way. After all, you’d been the one that forced him to propose to his boyfriend so that you could bring him with you on this project. If only you knew what kind of a toxic pair these two were! Goddammit. 

But, this guy was really telling you he couldn’t focus on work properly because he wanted to kiss Taehyung? For real?

What a guy.

“Get a fucking grip, Simon, what else?” you exclaimed, throwing your arms up. 

“No, I can’t. Don’t you think I have tried, already? Please take me off this project before I fuck things up for all of us and the company.” He shut his eyes, rubbing his face with both his palms. “And I’ve also, technically, broken the contract, so… Ask Boss to send someone else in.”

Was this happening for real? You were caught between wanting to smash the glass vase kept next to you over Simon’s head, and hurling yourself over the balcony.

You inhaled deeply, then exhaled. You could, realistically, do neither of the above. So you thought clinically and professionally, and made the sound decision to burden your boss with this mess instead of trying to sweep it under the rug by yourself.

“Fine.” You cleared your throat. “Take a break tomorrow. I’ll have a word with Manager Woo, he’ll talk to Taehyung. Tomorrow’s a Sunday, so I’ll be calling Boss for the first weekly check-in. I’ll ask her if something can be done to replace you on the team.”

Simon nodded with a grimace, which may have been his attempt at trying to smile.

You retired to your room on heavy feet. How could things go south in a week? You had barely begun and a buckload of bullshit was on you already.

Exhaling, you opened your laptop to leave a mail for Manager Woo. Quoting a personal emergency, you drafted an apologetic letter stating Simon’s absence tomorrow and asked the man to forward your apologies to Taehyung as well. At the same time, you were also mentally seasoning yourself for a possible confrontation with Taehyung when you went in tomorrow. 

You’d just put your laptop away when your phone rang. Frowning, you lifted it up, only to silent the ring with a groan.

Ever since you landed in Seoul, your best-friend cum roommate back at home had taken to giving you a call every single night. Even when you didn’t pick up. Ever.

Every morning you would text him an apology, and every night he would call again. It’d been a week to this pattern, now.

Why was he doing this? You’d made it abundantly clear that you weren’t going to get roped into any kind of affair with him—emotional or physical. What did he want, now?

For a second, you wondered if he was maybe only just concerned about your well-being in a foreign country? But then you dismissed it, immediately. Why would he? What had you ever done to deserve his—or anyone’s, really—concern? You were a bitch to the majority of people in your life, without trying and even meaning to. Why would anyone give a fuck about you without ulterior motives, right? 

Lying back on your pillows, you looked at the ceiling.

You’d been absolutely horrible at treating people with compassion and care for the majority of your life. You were always labelled either too prudish, too selfish, too career-oriented, or plainly, too narcissistic by people around you.

And, strangely enough, it never bothered you. 

But that didn’t mean you had not cared about anyone, ever. You had. Too much too, once upon a time. But what had that left you with? Expectations and hurt. 

So then, wasn’t it better to not care at all, and not expect at all? You never got hurt, this way.

Sighing, you rolled over to your side, tugging the covers up to your chin. Lifting up your phone from the nightstand, you turned it to silent.

An unread message was displayed on the locked screen:

Looks like you went to bed early again, lol. Hope you’re safe, warm and relaxed. Have a good day at work tomorrow xo

You sighed, yet again. You did not need anyone’s hugs and kisses for your day to be good. Why couldn’t people take a hint?

Shutting your eyes, you tried to get some sleep.

You were absolutely not surprised when, barely an hour into a fierce discussion about his school life, you and Jungkook were disturbed by a knock on the door. But Jungkook was, and jumped at the loud rapping, his wide eyes flashing to the door.

Your back being to the doorway, you looked at the boy expectantly to inform you of the intruder. Not that you didn’t already know.

Jungkook didn’t say anything, though, and simply kept looking behind you with raised eyebrows and rounded eyes. You sat very tightly wound up, contemplating whether to peek around the sofa’s high back or to stand up, when a deep, heavy voice enunciated your name. 

You stood up, slowly, pulling on a professional frown of very minute concern on your face. You willed yourself to act surprised when your eyes met a timid looking Taehyung’s. And, you actually slightly were, too. Why did he seem so shifty and nervous?

“Hello, Tae,” you wished, formally bowing to greet him.

He bowed back, licking his lips as he stood back straight up. “May I please borrow you for a few minutes?”

You twisted on your heels to look at Jungkook. It took him a few seconds to focus on your stare and recognise the question. “Oh! Sure! Of course! I’ll be here, I’ll wait.”

Nodding in gratitude, you stepped out of the studio to join Taehyung in the lounge area attached to the kitchen.

“I know what you would ask—”

“Have I not been cooperating well with Simon?” Taehyung cut you off with a question you were not expecting.

You frowned. “What makes you say that? He had a personal emergency today, Tae, that’s all! I’m sure he must be having a great time working with you.”

Taehyung sighed. “You think, or you know?”

How were you supposed to answer that? You bit your lip, trying to read Taehyung’s eyes, but the collar-bones peeking above the wide neckline of his oversized, brown t-shirt kept distracting you. On some level, you could understand what Simon must have been facing. But! You were all supposed to be professional adults and quell any unprofessional thoughts and not foster them!

You turned your face to your feet, not missing the wide-legged, knee-length shorts Taehyung wore. You mentally cursed yourself.

His sigh floated over to you. “I hope it isn’t something I did. I know I can seem a bit overwhelming sometimes and uninterested at other times, but… I am excited for this project and I really want to give it my best, too.” His eyes looked pained when you met them again. You softened. “Please tell me the truth.”

You drew in a breath. “It’s just as I told you, Tae. Simon has to sort some issues out in his personal life. And what makes you think you’re too overwhelming or uninterested? Did Simon say something?”

“No, no!” Taehyung immediately shook his head. “I just…speak from previous experiences. I don’t collaborate with people that well. I tire them out. And Simon… I don’t think we like each other’s approach very much. I feel like he doesn’t really agree with my ideas, just goes along out of courtesy.”

Your lips turned downwards. “I’m sure it’s none of that, Tae. Absolutely positive. And if worse comes to worst and the two of you actually aren’t able to work together, we will arrange for a switch-up so that you’re able to work comfortably.”

Taehyung seemed to perk up at that. “Switch-up? Will you work with me?”

You narrowed your eyes. He seemed a bit too keen about wanting to work with you, didn’t he? You could very clearly recall your first meeting and how he’d seemed to wane when you told him you were paired up with Jungkook.

Curious.

“We’ll see how it unfolds. But as of now, I am partnered up with Jungkook and you’re fretting over nothing. Simon will be back tomorrow, and things will get back on track. I promise.”

You hoped.

Taehyung nodded, excusing himself to visit the kitchen and you took your leave and came back to an eagerly waiting Jungkook.

He stood up the moment you entered the room. “Is everything okay? Hyung looked sad.”

You honestly had zero idea as to what to tell Jungkook. Pursing your lips, you slowly nodded in contemplation as you made your way to your seat. “He’s not working well with Simon,” you honestly told him.

“Oh.” Jungkook’s lips rounded, forming an adorable pout. “Taehyung hyung has a very artistic soul,” he said, taking you by surprise. You leant forward to listen in with interest. “He tends to get awkward and insecure about his ideas and conceptualizations. They’re usually off-beat and hard to work with, but they’re amazingly creative if you look at them like an artist. Not everybody has the right vision for those things, though. Maybe that is why Simon is…” Jungkook trailed off with a shrug.

You bit your lip in consideration. Taehyung’s words echoed in your head. 

‘I don’t think we like each other’s approach very much.’

Maybe they really were mismatched, outside of Simon’s immature, unprofessional, god-awful behaviour, too.

“Hey, could we add him to our group?” Jungkook suddenly asked, confusing you.

“Huh?” you very eloquently responded. 

He gave a small giggle. “Hyung. Could he work with us? We have been pretty efficient, and you certainly seem to have an artistic vision.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Jungkook, that’s really flattering. But also, no, I don’t think we can do that. The contract we’ve all drawn has a couple of strict clauses and one-on-one sessions is one of them.”

Frowning, Jungkook nodded in acceptance.

The two of you resumed your discussions from before, but the vigour and drive was now lessened to a great extent. You, especially, couldn’t stop worrying. You were the leader of the team, after all.

Sunday night brought in the awaited conference call with your boss. 

Looking at her excited, smiling face on your computer screen, you couldn’t help but dread the news you were about to break to her.

“So. How is it going?” Your boss rubbed her hands together, wiggling her eyebrows. “How is Sana doing? You were quite wound up about her, if I remember correctly.”

“You do remember correctly. There’s good news and bad news,” you responded with a grimace. “Which one first?”

Your boss pursed her lips. “Don’t wanna immediately spoil my mood, so, the good one please.”

“Sana has been doing fantastic. She’s been nothing short of professional, and according to what I’ve seen and heard, Namjoon is really pleased with her,” you relayed, smiling when your boss sighed in relief.

“Okay, so that’s out of the way. What’s wrong?”

You sighed. Better rip the band-aid straight off. “Simon has a huge crush on Taehyung and feels like he broke the contract. He wants to leave.”

You watched quietly as your boss choked on an inhale, coughed, had some water, and sat back down to blink at you with a blank face. “These words must not leave your room. Or Simon’s. None of the BigHit staff must catch a wind of it.”

You groaned. “Please don’t ask me to work through this, boss, please—”

“Work through it, Y/N!” your boss cruelly cut you off. “This is such a tiny, little, manageable thing! Resolve it.”

You gawked. “You literally just choked—how is this little, boss?”

“Counsel Simon. Ask him to push through. Threaten his employment with us, if necessary.”

It was your turn to blink at her, owlishly. “And? That’s it?”

Your boss shrugged. “And if it doesn’t work out, swap him with someone else on your team.”

You sighed. “This is all such high school, teen flick bullshit. What the hell.”

“I know, hun. Which is why I’m asking you to manage it. And I know you can. You’re my favourite, Y/N.” Your boss nodded at you with a solemn look. “I have believed in your capabilities since day one. It’s time to make them shine.”

You nodded, dumbly. The back of your mind was hinting at an inkling that you were being manipulated by flattery, but the forefront was basking in all the praise and could really not be bothered.

All you had to do was keep the whole thing hush-hush from the BigHit people and keep Simon in line, right? You could manage that.

Bidding your boss goodbye, you rung up Simon.

“Hey, boss.”

“You’re coming with us tomorrow and you’re gonna be a fucking professional like you’re supposed to!” you barked into the phone. “Bottle up your feelings, or eat them—I don’t care. You’ll do the job you were here for, and you’ll do it right.”

There was a long, suspended silence at the other end. And then a sigh escaped Simon. “I don’t think I have a choice. Fine, I’ll try.”

You put your phone to silent and shut your eyes, knowing you’d receive another call tonight and that you won’t pick up tonight, either.

You lay back in the bed, gearing up for tomorrow.

If worse actually did come to worst, and Simon sent everything down the rabbit hole, who would you make him swap places with? All of you had built really amazing rapports with your assigned partners in just a week. No one would be willing to start over.

If it came to it, would you have to? Would you be able to?

You could maintain professionalism a hundred times better than Simon, that much was certain. But you and Jungkook had been working so well! And who was to say Simon wouldn’t cause trouble with Jungkook, too? 

You let out a whine, beyond mad at the situation this guy had landed you in.

But you’d have to navigate out of it, somehow. This was the biggest project of your life so far—the first ever you were heading. You would ensure everything worked out at the end.

You would tie all the loose ends and make it all work. You would.

(You literally had no choice.)

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Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

[st-clements-steps]

I’m not sure that the classical allusions you can read into asoiaf are always intentional. So even though I’m about to list a lot of superficial similarities between Theon and Odysseus and I’m gonna use that to say something about Theon, it’s not that I think Odysseus tells us anything about where Theon’s story is going. I personally think the classical allusions happen because of the weight of antiquity on Western thinking and because asoiaf is a rich new world made in patchwork and reconstruction from our own. (This is long, and kinda pointless so...)

Theon is an islander who, like Odysseus, has been kept away from home, and this dream of returning home is a key part what is propelling them both. Of course Theon does actually return to Pyke and feels rejected, and then what is propelling him is more the dream of glory which will in turn lead to his acceptance at home. 

Those tropes we associate with Odysseus; the sea, the bow, the women, the clever move instead of the brave brazen fight, for whatever reason, GRRM has given those to Theon. Yes the clever move turns out more problematically and is in the end less effective than it is in the Odyssey, yes we’re more overtly uncomfortable about Theon’s relationships with women than we are about Odysseus’.

Theon uses a feint to sneak into an impossibly fortified place, just as Odysseus uses a feint to get the Greeks into Troy. Of course Theon does not throw any heirs from fortified walls nor raze Winterfell to the ground but events escape from his control to almost the same place anyway. (In the Odyssey no mention is made of Astyanax’s fate and it is not until later writers that the idea becomes possible canon, of course this ambiguity about whether Astyanax has been killed and by whom could be seen as echoed by Theon’s thoughts flitting between the story the Bolton’s need him to present to the North and the events we as readers experienced…there is no truth here, it’s all fiction) (Also, if Euripedes can remake a story, perhaps an author’s version is no more definitive than a fanfic writer’s response???).

I would characterise the general view of the Odyssey as unfortunate adventurer and the Greeks viewed him as a hero.

The Romans, meanwhile, think of him as a villain, cos he's a trickster who sneaks into fortified Troy. Modern writers tend to write him as problematic, he loves his wife and child but he throws babies from walls and Penelope waits virtuously whilst he doesn't. I'm not sure if anyone has, but what if his repeated shipwrecking, his near escapes from monsters and his being held as a hostage by Calypso was written as a tragi-horror victim narrative?

It’s here where Theon’s echoes of Odysseus become important to me. Yes, Theon’s experiences are generally more overtly horrific than Odysseus’. Yes, Theon’s trauma is condensed into a much tighter time frame. No, he is not allowed any respite in the arms of immortal women. But Odysseus’ story is hardly a buoyant adventure of daring do, he initially escapes the Cyclops, Polyphemus, only to rashly boast of his name, which is what begins Poseidon’s persecution of him. Repeatedly captured, he first loses his fleet, apart from his own ship, to cannibals, he later has to journey to the Underworld, before losing his ship and the rest of his men to a shipwreck demanded by the God Helios. He is then held for seven years by the immortal Calypso, and only released when Hermes demands it of her (Theon saves himself in the end, Odysseus doesn’t escape). Although Odysseus 7 years with her tend to be dismissed as good time sex slavery to a beautiful woman, Emily Wilson’s translation shows an Odysseus filled with despair and fear, “sobbing in grief and pain,” unbelieving when she promises to send him home;

Odysseus,

informed by many years of pain and loss,

shuddered and let his words fly out at her.

“Goddess, you have some other scheme in mind,”

Having said she’ll let her leave she then claims he will “glutted” with “suffering” before he gets home and he has to appease her with “diplomatic” words. Their relationship definitely appears coercive, even if it isn’t physically abusive.

As I said before (randomly, when I was supposed to be talking about Theon’s mirroring of Patroclus), when Odysseus is shipwrecked again by Poseidon and washes up half dead in Phaeacia, he tells his story, and they laud him as a hero, gift him a ship and treasure beyond that he pillaged from Troy.

Of course the show gives Theon the opportunity of being a hero in the modern sense, sacrificing his life for the possibility that everyone may survive (let’s save the biblical allusions for another time), and to me Theon’s escape with Jeyne in the books mirrors an Oprah book of the week in its tale of survival. However his creator continues to deny Theon the label hero. When GRRM talks about Theon wanting to be hero he surely means it in the classical sense, the revered warrior (I actually have no clue what GRRM means). 

Well here is one of those classical heroes and Theon’s tale echoes his. A hero will, in one of the oldest pieces of fiction surviving today, fail, succeed, fuck, cry, expose himself to beautiful risk, travel into the underworld, be held captive, escape, hobble back to those he loves an old man (it’s magic, not abuse admittedly), fight with wrath but ultimately listen. 

He is saviour and villain, victim and abuser, failing and triumphant, because the best stories (even those filled fantastical things) reflect the complexities of being human.

In the end, a hero is the person whose story we clamour to be told. 

Tell me about a complicated man.

Muse, tell me how he wandered and was lost

when he had wrecked the holy town […]

and where he went and who he met, the pain

he suffered […], and how he worked 

to save his life

Homer, The Odyssey trans. Emily Wilson 2018

[tae-cup]

Gouache on Calculators by Kim Taehyung | Calcu-LATER (1)

Pairing: Art Major!Kim Taehyung x Math Major!Reader, Jimin x reader-ish

Summary:  Math never fails you. The numbers might not always make sense, but you know there must be a solution. Everything fits together like a perfect puzzle, like your tidy life and solitary living…until Kim Taehyung spills paint all over your notebook. He, quite literally, trips into your life.

Genre: College AU, Fluff, Angst, Angst with happy ending, Light Topics, humor

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Uh, it’s not this dark i swear,  slight Internalized homophobia, Drinking, Cheating, uh uh uh it’s going to be a ride.

Word Count: 2.7k Words

A/N: Ah! I’m so excited to present this absolute mess of a story! Let me know your thoughts and if you’d like to be added to the taglist! Also also also, this chapter is short, but I promise the next one is a little over twice this length!

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       Mr. Erich was a slow talker. You could almost understand why Jimin was falling asleep next to you. Almost. Jimin wasn’t someone you really considered a close friend, but then again, you didn’t have many close friends. 

      The teacher continued droning on about number theory. You placed your head down on the desk, but your hand continued writing your notes. Staying up late last night wasn’t the best idea, but you needed to write an essay on Anaxagoras, a greek philosopher. 

     You hated philosophy. But you loved your mother and your mother had urged you to take a class that didn’t only involve numbers. 

     Jimin was snoring peacefully and you glanced over at him. It wasn’t exactly your issue so you looked away and went back to following the lesson. A few minutes later, he jerked awake and groaned audibly.

      A few people in the seats around looked at him quizzically. You shrunk lower in your seat. You didn’t want to attend class, too many people and it made your heart race, but you needed to pass this class and so you, sadly, must attend.

        Many knew Jimin as the son and heir to BigHit, the large business conglomerate that had wealth that made even the 1% drool, but to you he was just that guy who fell asleep in Calculus and cheated off your notes. Objectively, this was annoying. Subjectively…

     You felt him staring out of the corner of your eye. He was looking pointedly at your notes. Subjectively, you didn’t care enough. If he didn’t pay attention in class, that was his problem and you didn’t feel one way or another. At the bottom of your notes, you wrote, Pay attention. 

He wrote that down too without a second thought. 

   You were busy. You were always busy. In fact, you had an extremely important Algebra assignment to do and you knew you could get it done as long as no one bothered you-

“Oh my god.” 

    A man with blonde hair and a light blue beret stood in front of you. In his hands was a tray of spilled over paints; paints that were now on you. You tilted your head. 

“Can you move?” You spoke up after a while. 

“I’m so sorry!” He seemed unfrozen and hurried after you as you brushed by. 

“Uh, can you go away?” 

“I know you’re probably really mad! Do you want money or something? I can buy you new clothes or-wait that sounds weird.” 

“Clothes?” You glanced down and then realized the state of your wardrobe. 

    You were splattered with red, green, and yellow paint. You then glanced at your notebooks, also, helpfully, coated in a thin layer of paint. More importantly, your beautiful TI-84 calculator was ruined. 

     You opened your mouth, furiously holding up your calculator, but the man continued rambling on. Annoying. But somewhat entertaining, you supposed. 

“You got paint on my-” 

“Let me take you out! Somewhere nice? I’ll buy you a coffee!” He tore off some notebook paper and scribbled some numbers down. You paused. What was he doing? 

“Besides, it’s not paint, it’s Gouache.” He announced proudly, shoving the paper into your already full arms. 

“But that- you still got-”

“Taehyung!” Jimin called from behind you. You turned and the man winced. “Oh, Taehyungie has never been too neat, sorry about him. Anyway, we gotta go, Tae. Yoongi just called and Jungkook set fire to the carpet again.” 

“He really needs to change his major to something a little less dangerous.” 

“What is this, the third time?”

“I don’t know, but we need to go, Tae-”

“What’s his major?” You questioned.

“Philosophy.” They both said in unison. 

“Anyway gotta go!” Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s hand and started speed walking away. 

“You got paint on my calcu-”

“Later!” Jimin shouted over his shoulder, his eyes lingered on you for a moment.

    Did you have something on your face? You swiped at your cheek and he grinned, turning back around and following Taehyung.

    Once they were out of sight, you juggled your notebooks around until you could successfully pick up the paper. 278-367-5433 ;). You scoffed at the numbers, something you did often, and crumpled it up. 

“Art majors. What a waste of trees” You muttered and trudged back to your dorm. 

 “I’m so stuck on this problem, Y/N, you’ve gotta help me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you’re my friend?”

“I’m not your friend, Jimin.” You moved the phone to your other shoulder and continued working. 

“But-”

“Bye.” 

      You hung up and groaned, massaging your temple. Your room could be seen as lonely. Plain white paint sat on dull gray walls. There wasn’t a speck of trash or clothing littered on the floor. You lived an orderly life. Tidy. Your eyes strayed to your hamper. 

      Your clothes from earlier were spilling out of the top. A splash of color on a black and white canvas. You scrunched your nose and looked away in disgust. You had never understood the point of art. What did anyone ever see in it? It was meaningless. You looked back to your notes. 

      These numbers meant something. They meant the height of a ladder leaning against a building, the measurements of a bridge, and where Mary Jane would end up in 400 minutes if she’s going five miles an hour on a circular road. It was pretty deep. 

      You looked at your watch. Then you moved your attention to the window. Your dorm overlooked the sprawling center of campus. The place was a concrete playground, but with the extensive arts program, it was always covered in colorful murals and art pieces. 

       You didn’t have a roommate and you liked it that way. You had always preferred to be alone. Others called you anti-social, but, to put it another way, if there was an apocalypse and it was just you and another person alive in the entire world, you would probably leave them for dead. Life was simpler alone. 

       Besides, you wouldn’t have to deal with people chastising you about not picking up on “social cues” or whatever the hell those were. How were you supposed to know that when someone leans in real close, they want to kiss you? It seemed quite arbitrary in your mind. 

      Your phone was buzzing again. 

“What do you want?” 

“Please Y/N! This. Is. Really. Hard.” 

“Jimin, figure it out. How are you going to pass midterms if you can’t understand algebra?” 

“Ouch.”

“I mean that in the most sincere way.” You relented. 

“You’re so mean, Y/N.”

   Your eyebrows rose. That certainly wasn’t the first time you’d heard those words. 

“I’m honest. You could go ask the teacher or something.”

“He told me to ask you.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

You heard him let out a dry laugh on the other side and rustling of sheets. 

“You’re really good at math, Y/N.”

“I hate number theory.” You objected. 

“But that doesn’t mean you’re not good at it!” 

“Shut up. I’m going to hang up now.” 

“Wait no-”

Beep. 

     People were annoying. That’s what you had decided. You weren’t trying to stick out like a sore thumb, but getting in the flow of other people and understanding all the shit they wanted you to understand was hard. 

     You put your pencil back down onto the page and continued writing. You reached for your calculator, groaning when you realized the paint had covered the display. 

“Great. Just great.” 

      You set the calculator aside, feeling a little sentimental. After all, you’d had that thing since seventh grade. Your phone buzzed again. Jimin jesus chr-

“Yes?” You picked up. 

“What is this So ka toe ah everyone is telling me about.”

“How did you pass trig without sohcahtoa?” 

“Tell me!” 

“Ask Taehyung.”

“Taehyung is an art major and hasn’t had to be proficient in math since the fifth grade!” 

“Sin, cosine, tan. Bye.” 

Beep. 

     You massaged the crease between your eyebrows and your attention got caught by the darkened campus. The gross fluorescent campus lights lit up the concrete. Freshmen were running wild, happy with their newfound freedom, and seniors were leaving for clubs or parties. The lights in the dorm buildings across campus began turning on one by one. 

     You searched your pockets for the crumpled paper. When you didn’t find any, you made your way to your hamper and dug around the pockets of your paint smothered clothing. 

“Aha.” You unfolded the paper and dialed the number. You didn’t feel like talking, but Jimin was driving you up the wall. 

“Taehyung, right?” You said as he picked up. 

“Yeah? Changed your mind?”

“No. I’m going to make this short and sweet, tell Jimin to stop calling me for math help. Thanks.” You hung up and went back to your work. 

     So, technically, you were done with work, but being done with work meant that you were free and if you were free, that meant you had no excuse not to go out. And you needed an excuse to avoid people. You opened up your textbook and frowned at the various graphs and equations. You had already done all of them for fun this summer. 

“Hey, Y/N, a bunch of us in the dorm are going out, wanna come?” The hall monitor knocked on your door. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your job?” You looked back with a confused expression. 

“Charming as ever I see.” She chuckled. 

“Come on, Jasmine, Y/N never wants to go out anyway.” Another girl shouted. 

“I know! I just wanted to be nice!” Jasmine shouted out, as if you weren’t right there. 

“What would be nice is if you left.” You said, your voice monotone and matter of fact. 

“Alright then. If you need anything, just text or call.”

“You won’t pick up anyway.” You whispered under your breath, but Jasmine was already gone. 

 “You forgot that this has to be positive, Jimin.” You leaned over him like an overbearing mother. 

“But that doesn’t make sense!”

“You’re dividing two negatives. They cancel out.” You explained, a frown twisting onto your face. 

       There was a long silence as you watched him scribble down the new numbers. The library was relatively quiet. The giggles of a group in the corner would pierce the peaceful ambience every now and then, but the librarian would always shush them and they’d die down. 

     Jimin cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to this study session. You moved across the table and sat at your seat again. You just sat and stared at him. He was intriguing. He made silly mistakes that he should honestly understand for being a junior in college. His eyes flicked up to you three times and back to his paper. 

“Well, this is awkward.” He said after a while. 

“Is it?” You shrugged and continued staring him in the eye. He shifted awkwardly and looked away. 

“Why are you staring at me?” He whispered. 

“Oh, do you want me to stop?” 

His mouth opened and closed then he looked back at his paper, his ears turning red. 

“Are you coming on to me?” He murmured. 

“What? No, why would I do that?” You said, disgusted, and returned to your work. 

       To be clear, you weren’t disgusted with him, but you were disgusted at the idea that you would come onto him. After all, you were just here for math and Jimin was just here because he needed help studying, obviously. He looked like you had just slapped him. You honestly didn’t see an issue. 

“You know, my parents are pretty traditional and they want me to bring a girl home this holiday season. You’re the only girl I’m really close friends with.” He began. You felt his eyes on you and you looked up. 

“Uh, alright? That sounds like a problem. Who are you going to take then?”

“You’re really dense, aren’t you?”

“I’m not dense.” You defended. “You need to expand your friend group.” 

“I was wondering if you could come along?”

“What?” Your furrowed your eyebrows. “Absolutely not.”

“It wouldn’t be anything romantic, just-” 

    A man with mint green hair and a slim build walked past and Jimin’s eyes followed him. You followed his line of sight. 

“....We can just go as friends, you know?” 

You nodded solemnly. “Just friends, Jimin.”

“You’ll go?”

“Only if you promise me it’s just friends because I really don’t want to have to deal with romance.” You huffed, picking up your pencil and jotting down numbers. “You already have my number, just send me the details.”

“Thank you!” 

      The librarian shot him a glare and he lowered his voice. 

“You’re a real lifesaver.” He whispered. 

“I know.” You narrowed your eyes and then began to pack up your things. “I’ve got a lot of stuff to do. Bye.” 

“What, but we just-” 

“Yeah I know, but I’m sort of sick of talking to people and I helped you with your work so I’ve got to go work on Philosophy.” 

“Philosophy? I didn’t take you as a philosophy person.”

“Me neither.”

     Aha! You knew you recognized Taehyung from somewhere. You ran your finger over the screen. The list of student names in your philosophy class was displayed. 

“Kim Taehyung. KTaehyung24@WillowsUniversity.edu.” You murmured 

“Whatcha doing?” Jasmine leaned against your doorway. 

“Just...research.” You explained lamely. 

“I see.” The hall monitor came inside and sat on your bed. “You never go out, Y/N. I’m worried about you.” 

“Okay, and?” You glanced at her as she sat cross legged on the bed. Great. She’s wrinkling the sheets. 

“Well, as a friend-”

“We’re not friends.”

“-and hall monitor, I command that you go out this weekend. Do something with your college life. I think you might regret not doing anything fun later on.” She prodded softly. 

“This is fun.” You gestured to the scattered math homework pages across the desk. 

“Right… well, just keep it in mind.” She stood and moved to your door. 

“Jasmine?”

“Yeah?” She paused, turning to look at you. You read over your philosophy work and then your essay.

“You ever think that there are so many people in your life, but no one is really a part of it?”

“You’ve got to stop with the philosophy, Y/N. It feels weird coming from you.” She laughed.

       You didn’t find anything funny in that. She looked awkwardly from you to the door, expecting you to chuckle along, but you remained silent, blinking at her. She shivered and left without another word. 

      The second she was gone, you stood abruptly and smoothed out the bed sheets, but as you did that, more wrinkles appeared on the other side. You felt the anxiety pouring out of you and you rushed to smooth down the other side, but more and more wrinkles kept appearing like disgusting bugs that wouldn’t die. You let out a frustrated sigh and tore all the sheets off your bed. 

       You took the ruler off your desk and measured out the width and height, then calculated how much extra cloth is needed on both sides for it to be perfectly centered. Then you marked it off and remade the bed. You felt yourself calming as order was restored. 

    You thought back to Jasmine’s words. Go out? Absolutely not. Then you looked at the crumpled paper on your desk. 

“Fine, Jasmine.” You pursed your lips and dialed the number once more. 

“Y-ello?” Taehyung’s voice rumbled through the speaker. 

“I want a coffee, but I’d prefer to go somewhere quiet.”

“Straight to the point I see.”

“Polite niceties take up too much time. When are you available?” “Whenever you are, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Alright. Uh…” There was a long pause and you heard rustling in the background. “Sorry just grabbing a piece of paper.”

“Why are you apologizing? There’s nothing to apologize for.” You said quickly, eager to get this conversation over with. 

“I’m free this Saturday?” 

“Works for me.” You said. You didn’t need to check your calendar to know you had nothing to do. 

“Great see you then.” He said stiffly.

“Yup.”

“Uh...bye?”

“Alright.” 

Beep. 

      Now it was time to overthink the arrangement until Saturday.

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