#they seem extremely supportive and the fact its small means that i could probably get around better given my intense anxiety around driving

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[oathofkaslana]

hi lee!! i saw someone pair army dreamers (kate bush) /w himeko. and you are the most honkai pillled person i know;; so I thought you’d probably appreciate it and be able to understand it (and. be sick over it) a lot more than me.

I hope you have very very nnice day 💜

HI I HAVE THOUGHTS ON THIS FIRST BEING THAT YEAH. MY GOD YEAH THAT IS SUCH A HIMEKO SONG YEAH....

as you know, one of my favorite ways to analyze himeko is through an anti-military lens. several things i like about this:

fits in w moon shadow and that doctor's guilt over sending children to the battlefield, thus creating a story w anti-entropy and schicksal about military. schicksal deals with so much exploitation ofc but the ones most relevant to this are its use of valkyries as warriors and how the artificial stigmata they are given will eventually corrupt their body and kill them + the fact that valkyries can only biologically be young + common themes of like. romanticizing heroship and martyrdom to an extent which are extremely common in military propaganda + otto's ulterior motivations that he used schicksal for.

adds layers into her backstory w her believing her father actually loved her more than his work and applying to his field after welt lied to spare her feelings..... Fuck. my god. do you see........ footprints of a father............... himeko being used as a tool by her father to get closer to welt for his own gain................

the way it fits in w kiana and mei's story when it comes to sacrifice. <- obviously not to a t. their conflict is more about watching someone you care for make difficult decisions with potentially difficult outcomes and supporting them because its something they truly genuinely believe in w their entire heart.

makes particular lines like this particularly interesting: Fu Hua: Sacrifices are inevitable in the war against the Honkai. Fu Hua: You know that better than I, Major. Showing mercy to the wrong people can be disastrous. Himeko: You have no idea what “sacrifices are inevitable” even means. Himeko: The tragedy is not how many people have died… Himeko: …But how we’ve grown accustomed to the idea that people must die for others to live. ^ particularly kills me bc i think it demonstrates what hi3's commentary on sacrifice is! hi3 isn't really making a moral stance on sacrifice imo. i think it moreso tries to examine how we think of sacrifice and how we're weirdly desensitized to it (again, text above + this one particular interaction on kiana's first mission where himeko explains the protocol that if any of them are corrupted, their teammates are expected to kill them without mercy) and the motivations behind sacrifice (of course much of it coming from a love and want to make the world better, but theres also this theme against sacrifice being someone's duty and sacrifice as a product of someone's own guilt.) hi3 makes a point to distinguish those types of sacrifices versus an action born out of a genuine and deep love and understanding of the world and it's beauty (particularly present in, of course, elysia; kiana; himeko; and ragna*)

also prev quote. cmon man. classic military shit do you remember how in second eruption otto wants to kill siegfried and cecilia bc he realizes they could be a threat to him?????????

*from chapter 25. himeko quoting ragnba:

Himeko: “We fight for the good in this world and things we deem important.” Himeko: “They may seem small, insignificant, but that’s only because they are seeds.” Himeko: “These seeds that are destined for something good will one day blossom and thrive into a beautiful garden.” Himeko: “So, don’t cry for me, comrades.” Himeko: “I have died, but my death will fertilise the soil that grows hope.” Himeko: “And the flowers of the future will one day find something they want to protect.”

[friedloverballoon]

Open-mindedness

I wanted to put this here because I was thinking about it a bit and I wanted to share my thoughts. (Tumblr does seem to love my opinions lately; 🚨opinion alert🚨)

There are a lot of Tumblr people on the more progressive, "gender isn't real" side of things like gender discourse and things like that who I've noticed pack so much punch into their replies to my posts and their own posts, talk about wanting to debate someone who disagrees with them, and when someone even replies with something short like "penis small" (something I got that I thought was funny) or "you support , blocked".

Disregarding the fact that these people are engaging with discourse on their own free will and then complaining that someone has a different opinion, I've noticed that a lot of these people are extremely closed-minded to actually listening to what people have to say because there are a lot of people on their side that oppose that group, it's almost like peer pressure to me, like "I can't possibly agree with this idea because so many of my peers who agree with this other opinion"

Seeing terfs and others on the far opposite side of the gender discourse is quite the same thing. I've seen them call each other "sister" and then go to each other if they see something that makes them question their views, get persuaded right back into their firm beliefs.

By the way, for all the people who called me a terf for talking about how xenogenders are harmful to transgender laws, stop using a buzzword for a group you've never messed with before.

What I'm trying to say with this post is that opinions can change quick, and you shouldn't have to be tied down to any group if they berate you for even questioning if you might agree with a differing opinion. And don't think this doesn't happen on the mogai/xenogender side of things either, it does. I would know, I used to be part of that until I came to my own conclusion about it.

People who switch political sides from the left to the right often talk about how liberating (ironically) it feels to be open-minded. I do relate to the switch in sides and how good it feels to get out of an echo chamber. The problem is that, for a lot of them, all they've done is switched their opinions to the opposite side and become closed-minded of opinions from the left. In real time, I've seen this happen with many people I know, and it is very disappointing how closed-minded some of them will become to any idea outside of their, as I've heard it called, "filter bubble", especially after they cite the reason of their leaving the left being the closed-mindedness.

Of course, nobody on Tumblr would know them, but someone that a lot of the gender and sexuality discourse accounts would recognize as a familiar face would be YouTuber Blaire White, who I've noticed seems to be going through a phenomenon that I've never seen before, one I might call a "double red-pill". If this giant post gets attention, I'm thinking about doing a post about that as well, but I need more time about that.

To finish this post, I'll talk about what it means to me to be open-minded. When someone is passionate about a topic, even if its one I disagree with, if it's something I come across or is said to me, I'll listen. Of course, I'll probably disagree with a point supporting something I already disagree with, but I might not, and it might change my perception on something bigger. America is extremely divided when it comes to (when you think about it) opinions in other peoples' minds, and for me, so much of the stress relating to online discourse just vanished after accepting them. And for good reason too, it's not that I don't care, I still get involved in it, it's that it's not a bad thing to be met with differing opinions. I could be met with thousands of people who disagree with me like how I did with that one post I made, and I read all my replies. Discussions about different opinions shouldn't be angry and dramatic either, if everyone on earth had the same opinion about everything, we would be like robots, so don't be afraid to examine different ideas.

[andypantsx3]

subtle | shouto todoroki/reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,171 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You're determined to track down the sender, certain it's a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

There was a box on your desk.

There was a box on your desk, and the sight of it was enough to instantly set you on edge.

The box looked normal enough, if a little fancy, maybe. Its lacquered top glinted brightly under the fluorescent office lighting, its smooth, polished sides waterfalling into the soft matte of your desktop underneath. You weren’t close enough to read the inscription, but you could just make out some elegant, curling script inlaid into the top of the box, possibly the name of whichever company had produced it.

The box looked very normal, in fact. Only, you knew it wasn’t. Boxes didn’t just show up in the middle of the Todoroki Hero Agency, a campus swimming with pros and armed with layers of security so deep it took even you--Shouto Todoroki’s manager--fifteen full minutes to get through screening every morning. It was something very much like being a prison guard at Tartarus.

So either this box meant the agency was dealing with a security breach the likes of which had scarcely been seen before, or someone had mistaken your desk for somebody else’s.

Which, considering it was Valentine’s Day, made a lot more sense.

Buoyed by the realization it wasn't a security risk, you crept closer, peering at the box, and the script resolved itself into the name of the extremely fancy chocolatier in Hiroo district that you made a point of drooling over every time you had to make a house call on Shouto. Their prices were literally insane, so you had never let yourself wander inside, unwilling to shell out an entire week’s pay for a tiny set of chocolates. Even if they did look absolutely fucking unbelievable from the window.

Your mouth watered.

That confirmed it--this was a Valentine's gift, and it was definitely a mistake. For the briefest of seconds, you’d wondered if maybe you had gotten obligatory office friendship chocolates, but this was too much. Some poor, love-sodden flop had gone out, spent their week’s pay on someone they were clearly very serious about, and then proceeded to fuck the entire thing up by plonking their gift straight onto your desk instead of their intended’s.

You frowned, quickly checking the box over for some kind of clue as to who had left it. There was no note included, nothing even mildly helpful that would give you the slightest hint of the person who'd left it here. Which left you with the question of how to return the box to the sender without knowing who they were, or how to pass it on to whoever they’d really meant it for.

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, staring hard at the surface of the box like you could crack its code if only you glared hard enough. The box stared back at you, unhelpfully silent.

You were still skewering the box with your gaze some minutes later, determined to unravel its secrets, when a deep voice murmured from your doorway.

“You look puzzled."

You startled, whipping around to find Shouto propping up the wall, looking as unfairly handsome as usual. He was watching you intently, those heterochromatic eyes fastened to your face in that careful way he had, the one that always made you feel too warm and slightly unfocused. As usual, it was all you could do to remind yourself that you were a professional and he was something solidly between a friend and a coworker, and no matter how cute and attentive he was, you shouldn't get any ideas.

This morning, he was dressed in his hero uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, his distinctive hair only a little ruffled from his early patrol. It wasn’t often someone tried something in the districts he watched over anymore, probably too nervous to find themselves on the wrong end of the number four hero’s temper. You knew from the reports you received to your phone that the only trouble he’d encountered this morning was a pack of amorous school girls purposely misusing their quirks to draw his attention.

Thirty minutes ago, in fact, you’d almost spit out your coffee laughing at a photo of him looking wildly uncomfortable as he attempted to ice down some girl’s lava quirk with his right hand while fighting off her unfathomably enormous bouquet with his left. It was only right that he should suffer once a year, when every other day he got to stalk about as handsome as you please, oblivious to the effects his appearance had on every breathing person within a five mile radius.

You gave him an absent nod, gaze drawn back to the box on your desk.

“Somebody accidentally left something in here,” you told him, gesturing to it. “I’m trying to figure out how to track down who it was, or who it was meant for.”

Shouto made a small noise in the back of his throat, almost like a cough, and it was enough to startle you into looking up at him again.

“What?” you asked, peering at him. Was he coming down with something? It wasn't often he got sick, but when he did, he usually attempted to hide it and needed to be steamrolled into taking time off. You looked him over, trying to assess whether or not you needed to start badgering him now.

Shouto gazed back at you evenly, his expression deceptively bland. “...You think it’s not for you.”

You felt yourself blink at him, surprised by the comment and struggling to discern his meaning. What did he mean, you think it’s not for you? “Of course it’s not for me, Shouto, it’s from Grégoire Chardin.”

You knew he’d know the place, considering he lived in the same fancy rich people neighborhood as the chocolatier, but Shouto looked unimpressed.

“Why should that mean it’s not for you?” he asked, his tone dry.

The remark caught you off guard, as his comments sometimes did, and you bit down something like a smile. Bless his sweet, oblivious, rich boy heart. Either he overestimated your appeal to his agency staff, or he really did not understand the concepts of cost and return on investment.

“It’s expensive, it’s not something you would give someone as obligatory chocolates,” you explained, watching as a white eyebrow went up. His expression sharpened into something you couldn’t read well.

“It could be a secret admirer,” he said.

You stared blankly back at him, absolutely floored by the idea.

He thought you had a secret admirer? The idea sent an excited thrill all the way down to your toes, but you quickly squashed the feeling. So far, you'd never been on the receiving end of any furtive but romantic gestures, and you really didn't get any interested vibes from anyone in the office, no lingering glances or excuses to spend more time with you. The person who paid you the most amount of attention was Shouto, which was to be expected, considering how closely you worked together. And obviously he wasn't interested, he was just happy to stand in your doorway spouting wild conspiracies about his agency staffers like they were completely reasonable things to say.

“I don’t have a secret admirer,” you told him.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a thin line and he took an intent step forward into your office. “Is the point of a secret admirer not to be exactly that--secret? How can you be sure?”

You couldn’t help it--you gaped at him, your face going weirdly warm. Okay, was he--was he serious? You obviously weren’t the most unfortunate creature on earth, and you even had your good days, but nobody in their right mind was going to attempt anything with you when there were girls like Nejire Hado and Ibara Shiozaki roaming the hallways of his agency. Even several of the analysts and most of the support crew had you beat out in terms of appeal--literally bless this man for his obvious indifference to your appearance.

“I, uh--thanks for your confidence in me,” you said, fighting down a laugh. “But I assure you, it definitely wasn’t meant for me. I just have to figure out who left it and who they meant it for.”

Shouto shifted impatiently, like he was waiting for something.

“You’re so certain,” he said, sounding frustrated.

“Of course I am,” you waved at him vaguely. It was actually super cute that he thought you could net yourself a dude who was willing to shell out Grégoire Chardin dollars, but you were just wasting time now, lingering over the least important part of this entire affair. “Listen, Shouto. I know sometimes men talk in the locker rooms. If you--if you hear anything, will you let me know? I just want to return it, it looks way too good sitting here.”

It was actually taking all your willpower not to open it and avail yourself of Japan’s finest chocolate, considering you would never have another opportunity like this again. Maybe you should just pretend it was for you....Really, no one could fault you for opening something left in your own office. But...no. No, you knew better.

Shouto appeared indifferent to your internal struggle. He watched you for a long moment, his features impassive. “Under one condition,” he finally allowed.

You cocked an ear to show you were listening, rifling around with the paperwork on your desk to distract yourself from the chocolate. You were strong, a good person. You had willpower like steel. You did not need to eat it, no no no.

“If no one comes looking for it by the end of the day, you will open it,” he said, moving closer.

You glanced up at him, shocked. “Shouto, this is someone else’s gift,” you hissed. “I can’t just open it.”

He placed a large palm down on your desk, leaning over you slightly. “That is my bargain.”

“You want me to steal somebody’s shit in your own agency,” you accused him. You tried not to pay attention to how close he had gotten, how straight his nose was up close, the way his eyes seemed brighter and his mouth pulled into a pout almost too pretty for a man.

The rest of his expression slipped into something like annoyance, matching his pout. “If no one comes for it, then it must be evident that it was meant for you.”

You suppressed a derisive laugh. Now was not the time to get shirty with your own boss, especially when his delusions were kind of sweet. It was honestly just short of a miracle that a man who looked like Shouto did could possibly think anyone on earth would have a thing for you, regardless of his own tastes.

“What if they’re just too shy to ask for it back?” you asked, watching those heterochromatic eyes flick over you curiously.

“If it’s as expensive as you say, someone will come looking,” he said. Which was actually kind of annoyingly reasonable.

A smirk flitted across his maddeningly perfect face when you failed to come up with another argument. He had a point, and he knew it.

You let out a gusty sigh. “Fine, but only because I’m certain someone will come looking for it. Please be subtle when you’re gathering info, okay? I'm sure this is embarrassing for whoever made this mistake.”

Shouto looked almost offended. “I am perfectly capable of being subtle,” he intoned in his deep voice.

This time, you did laugh. He was quiet, maybe, very perceptive, and unobtrusive when he wanted to be, but no one had ever accused the man of possessing tact. “Yeah, okay. Just, try to channel more subtlety than you think you need, okay? No one else but the sender needs to know about the mix up.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Shouto was leaning over you more fully, eyes glittering strangely as his clean, fresh scent met your nose. You froze in your chair, brain going horrifyingly vacant as he leaned impossibly nearer. What the fuck was he doing?

“It will be like I’m not even asking,” Shouto promised, his voice light. “Not asking anyone at all.”

You tried to scrape your thoughts back into something resembling order, but the effort was all but futile. You needed to get him out of your space stat before you embarrassed yourself.

”Okay, then it’s a deal,” you said quickly. “Now go...flambé a villain or something.”

Shouto lingered for a long moment, his mouth curling a little at the corner, like he was being let in on a secret you couldn’t hear. His eyes brushed over you, almost like a physical touch. And then he was gone, pulling open the door to your office, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“You will see,” he said by way of farewell. “You will find out how subtle I can be.”

You stared at him in confusion, but he didn’t explain himself. He just smirked, and closed the door behind himself.

[yumeyooa]

revenge is brutally sweet | jeon jungkook

—jeon jungkook’s life so far has been going well. he’s the guitarist of the most famous band in the scene, he’s got the girl of his dreams, and everything he’s ever wished for is in the palm of his hands. what he doesn’t expect though, is to wake up one day in the middle of a controversy. what the controversy is, you may ask? a new band has been hitting the charts, and their lead singer is none other than you, a former member of the band and his ex-girlfriend.

➢  pairing: jeon jungkook x female! reader

➢ genre: angst | slight fluff | band au | slight highschool au | post breakup au | exes au | r 15 | guitarist! jungkook | vocalist! reader

➢ word count: 14.6k+

➢  warning: profanity | heavy drinking | toxic relationships | messy break-ups | self depriciation | bullying | messy closure | this is just very much super angsty

➢ love letter: AH SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG T_T I kinda drowned in midterms AHSHSHs but I hope you enjoy this fic <33 there’s more to this angsty collection to come so stay tuned!! 

navigation | collection masterlist

Life couldn’t be any better. 

This is what Jeon Jungkook constantly told himself every morning after his short, fifteen-minute shower while messily tousling his hair in an extra-soft towel as he takes in the dreary yet somehow vibrant view from his penthouse apartment, soaking in the sun’s rays. 

The city was busy, even though the sun had just risen and bloomed into full glory. The streets were filled with people rushing to get wherever they needed to be, cars driving past with the fervor of a shackled mad man on wheels. If Jungkook looked closer, he would have probably seen the black exhaust drifting in the air from the fumes of those ecologically damaging vehicles or the frantic looks on an office worker’s face as they hurriedly crossed the street obviously late for work. 

But alas, Jungkook couldn’t care less about the trials and tribulations of some strangers he didn’t even know. After all, his life was going great. In fact, he was literally walking on cloud nine at this point and felt like nothing had stopped him. 

Of course, it wasn’t always this way, which was why Jungkook appreciated his success tenfold. 

He, like every other success story, had started from the ground up. Music was something he had always dreamed of doing for the rest of his life. Ever since his grandfather had first shown him how to play the guitar, the melodies had wrapped their whimsical tunes around his heart and made themselves stay. It was fascinating to him how playing a couple of strings could produce such music that could move souls and bring smiles to people’s faces.

And ever since then, he was hooked. Every chance he got, he would play the guitar even if his parents tried to pry him off it. 

They wanted him to be a doctor after all, and there was no way in hell he was going to go by their wishes. While being a doctor was great, it didn’t ignite the same spark that music did, and for Jungkook, he would rather die than live a life without his flame running ablaze.

So, against his parent’s wishes, he pursued a career in music. It wasn’t easy, of course. At first, he had no support system for his dream. His friends and teachers ridiculed and discouraged him, saying that the future was bleak and he had no hopes of making it big. But if Jungkook knew anything about himself, it would most likely have to do with the fact that he was extremely stubborn and persistent, much to the disappointment of the adults in his life. 

So he continued. He continued reaching his dreams, joining every music-related activity he could at his age until he finally met Mr. Park.

Mr. Park was a bright man who came in one day as a replacement for their music teacher, who was an old lady who stuck to the classics and had a somewhat deceiving grading system. He came into class with disheveled hair, an unkempt tie, and when he turned around to write his name on the board, the whole class laughed as they could see his heart print underpants peeking through. 

But despite his clumsiness and seemingly carefree nature, Mr. Park was a master at his craft. He was the epitome of what a music teacher should be; exceptionally skilled, eloquent, and passionate about what he did. But Mr. Park had another talent that not many knew about, which was the eye for potential.

And Mr. Park saw potential in Jungkook.

He had taken Jungkook under his wing and taught him the ropes of music life. The keys of the piano, how notes were read, how symphonies were made. And the more Jungkook learned, the more he yearned for a life surrounding music. When he voiced his wishes to Mr. Park, expecting to receive the same rejection he had always known, he was pleasantly surprised to find out that he had his support.

Mr. Park was the very first person who saw that Jungkook could have a future in music. He was the very first person who showed Jungkook that there was a path for him to take that was far better than the path his parents laid out for him. A rocky path filled with trials and tribulations but ultimately reaped great rewards in the end. 

Like a moth drawn to its flame, Jungkook was attracted to the seemingly devastating path because somehow, amid the darkness, there was hope. Hope for a happier future, a future that wasn’t filled with regret and mourning but full of triumph and satisfaction. Jungkook would be a fool not to pursue the latter.

And thus, in hopes of finally seeing the light, Jungkook decided to start his own band. 

It didn’t start off right away, though. After all, no kid at his school wanted to be part of a band that, in the eyes of their parents, was a complete waste of time. Jungkook kept his small dream hidden deep within his heart, yet even so, it still burned with an unyielding passion. Even if years passed and no opportunity for him to start a band was in sight, Jungkook didn’t give up, knowing that his persistence would one day reap great rewards.

And finally, his chance came in the form of you. 

From the very beginning, Jungkook had always thought you were strange. In a prestigious school known for being the epitome of perfection and class, you were the odd one out, sticking out like a sore thumb with your disheveled appearance and undignified manner of carrying yourself. Almost immediately, you were set to be the outcast, ridiculed by your peers for your looks and mannerisms, even if, in Jungkook’s opinion, you weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary.

Unfortunately, the world is never kind to those who are different. 

Jungkook’s phone rings from where it is laid on his bedside table, the alarm blaring loudly, causing a shift in the once serene atmosphere of his apartment. Jungkook pays it no mind at first, choosing to finish drying his hair before finally picking up the phone, voice groggy and slightly annoyed from having his peaceful morning interrupted.

“Who is it?” He hastily asks, not meaning to sound as harsh. But could he really be blamed when it was 7 AM in the morning, and he wasn’t expected to show up to any scheduled event until noon?

“Jungkook!” An exasperated voice exclaims from the other side of his phone. It was Namjoon, his manager, Jungkook, quickly concludes. Although it was rare for him to call so early in the morning, especially in such a panicked state. Perhaps he forgot to inform him of a schedule? Although that was annoying, Jungkook wouldn’t really mind. After all, work made money. But if that were the case, it would have been odd for Namjoon to be so panicked about it. The man was known for being reasonably level-headed even in times of extreme stress, so perhaps it was something else entirely. 

“Did you read the news?” Namjoon quickly adds before Jungkook could ask what was wrong. At his question, Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, quickly sitting down on the side of his bed and grabbing his iPad from the same bedside desk, unplugging the charger along the way. 

“No,” he says as he types up the password into the Home Screen, laying his phone in between the juncture of his shoulder and ear. “Is there something I should be concerned about? I mean, it’s not like I got into a scandal or anything, right?”

Wrong.

Well, partly.

The moment Jungkook opens his Twitter, he’s surprised to see more notifications than usual. Of course, it was a given for him to have a ghastly amount of notifications as a celebrity. He did have a large fan base, after all. But the numbers on his screen far exceeded that of what he was used to, and amongst those notifications tagging his account, one article stood out amongst the rest, and the headline made his blood run cold.

“What the fuck?” He whispers, staring at the article in shock as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Am I seeing this right, Namjoon?”

The man on the other side of the phone is silent for a while before Jungkook hears a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes,” Namjoon says, and Jungkook can almost imagine the way he’s probably rubbing his temples together while sipping his cup of black coffee in his office out of stress and frustration

“(Y/N) is back,” he says, causing shivers to run down Jungkook’s spine. “And apparently Jungkook, she wrote a song about you.”

 The day Jungkook finally mustered up the courage to talk to you for the first time was an experience, to say the least. For what felt like years, albeit it was only a few days, Jungkook had been observing you from the sidelines, watching as you were berated by his classmates, who apparently had nothing better to do with their time. 

A part of Jungkook always felt guilty for never standing up for you. He knew you needed a friend. Someone to confide in this hellish school that made it seem as if it were every man for himself. But he was a coward, raised and molded to never take a step outside the boundaries he had set for himself, like a doll.

Although, with Mr. Park's influence, Jungkook could finally break free from his shell, even if it were just a mere few steps. 

"Here," he says nervously, handing you a carton of banana milk that he had picked up from the nearest vending machine the moment he saw you storm out of the classroom in tears. Even then, your classmates had laughed, mocking how sensitive you were, which disgusted Jungkook. Didn't they have any ounce of shame for making a person cry like that?

You look up from where you sat on the school's staircase, eyes puffy from crying so hard, a stream of tears still flowing down your face. You looked like an absolute mess, and the sight only caused Jungkook's heart to clench even more. He sat beside you, albeit a bit distanced because he couldn't help but feel awkward. This was your first conversation, after all. 

You stare at him, not entirely understanding why he would extend kindness towards you. Was this a trick of fate? Was he doing this so you would someday do his bidding in the future? The kids of this school were scary, even scarier than the monsters that hid underneath your bed or the creatures that roamed around in the dead of night. Even amidst the light, they scared you, and you were terrified that the man offering you some banana milk would be just the same. 

"You don't have to take it if you don't want to," Jungkook says, after realizing you were staring at him warily, cautious over whether or not you would accept his gift. "Sweets always cheered me up whenever I feel down, and I thought maybe it would cheer you up too!" 

If anyone were to see your interaction, they would have burst out laughing from how awkward it was. You who were wary and cautious, and Jungkook who was awkward and shy. A stark difference between your usual timid behavior and Jungkook's confident act. In fact, if anyone else were to see this, they would have never believed their eyes. 

It was odd, after all. And you knew this very well. Which was why you were so confused at Jungkook's behavior. Why was he approaching you so kindly when everyone else ridiculed and shunned you out? You were different, someone who didn't deserve to be there. An imposter, an intruder. It didn't make sense for him to act friendly. 

"Don't take this the wrong way," Jungkook continues, setting down the banana milk in the space between the two of you as he fiddled with his fingers, a habit he had picked up over time. "I'm not doing this to mock you or make fun of you later down the line… I just really don't like the way they're treating you. It's not right."

You're stunned. Rightfully so. This was the first time someone had ever gone against what others did to you, despite him doing so behind the scenes. A weird sensation bubbles up from inside you, one you can't quite place. But what you do know is that amidst it all, there's warmth. Jungkook's words sounded genuine and sincere, not like the usual condescending tone you were used to hearing from the rest of your peers. 

He genuinely seemed to care. 

Jungkook's eyes widen in surprise when he sees you grab the carton of banana milk, opening the straw in pushing it through, taking a sip. You sheepishly stare down, not even bothering to look Jungkook in the eye before muttering. "I prefer strawberry milk… but this isn't that bad... I guess… Thanks…" 

His eyes gleam, happy that you've accepted his offering and watching with a content smile as a small smile of your own forms on your lips, a far cry from the mess you were mere moments ago. He had somehow managed to cheer you up, and that was better than anything Jungkook could ever ask for. 

"No problem. Next time I'll buy you a whole box of strawberry milk!" He exclaims, excited for what was about to unfold between the two of you. 

But he would have never expected this. 

And on this week's celebrity news: Former Vocalist of The 97, (L/N) (Y/N) debuts solo with her new single 'Move On', which fans speculate is a direct message to her ex-boyfriend and former bandmate Jeon Jungkook. 

"Fuck!" Jungkook exclaims, overcome with emotion, as he watches the news unfold in the conference room of his label. He had quickly made his way over the moment he saw the headline, confused, devastated, and most of all angry. 

What in the world were you thinking, dragging him down like that?

"Jungkook, calm down," Namjoon says from the other side of the room, trying to prevent Jungkook from destroying the room. Jungkook was strong. And if he really wanted to, he could turn the whole conference room upside down in a blink of an eye, and Namjoon really didn't want to deal with whatever consequence would follow should Jungkook actually decide that he'd destroy the conference room. 

"How the fuck do you expect me to be calm, Namjoon?" Jungkook asks, exasperated as he walks from one end of the room to the other. "This is going to ruin my fucking reputation. And it's all because that bitch is too bitter about our breakup that she decided to fucking write a song about it."

"Hey." Another voice calls out, stern and ready to scold. Jaehyun, the band's bassist, glares at Jungkook with as much disdain as he could muster, not believing the words that came out of Jungkook's mouth. "No matter how you feel about the situation. I'm not going to stand by and let you call (Y/N) a bitch. She was and still is our friend. Just because you're so caught up in your perfect reputation doesn't mean you have to bring others down in the process, Jeon." 

It was rare for Jaehyun to ever call Jungkook by his last name. The two were as close as could be, having been the best of friends for more than ten years and counting. Jungkook knew he could trust Jaehyun with his life and vice versa, so it shocked him to hear that his best friend was defending her. 

"But Jungkook has every reason to be mad, Jaehyun!" Another voice pops up, this time a more feminine one that has Jungkook's heart-melting just a bit. Eunha, his current girlfriend, and the one who was there for him when you left him. She was the band's current vocalist, and Jungkook couldn't feel any more grateful to have someone as supportive as her in his life.

"She's using a personal situation to make her more popular, all the while bringing us down in the process! There's nothing else to call her but a bitch when she's hurting the band she started with! Is that how she says thank you when the band's been nothing but good to her?

It's incredible, Jungkook thinks to himself, how he was able to find someone like Eunha. She was the most compassionate and understanding person in the world, a far cry from what you had become. Bitter, selfish, and downright ungrateful. You probably wrote that song out of spite just to get back at him when he did nothing wrong in the first place. You were crazy, and he was glad Eunha allowed him to see through all of your lies. 

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" Jungkook's eyes darted in surprise to Yugyeom, the band's drummer, who had just cursed at his girlfriend. He glares at the drummer, mad at the fact that the usual happy-go-lucky man was now acting bitter in front of his girlfriend, who had done nothing wrong. Were his bandmates woven that deep within your cruel lies?

"Excuse me, what did you just say?" Eunha asks, appalled, tears forming from the corners of her eyes, which only causes the anger within Jungkook to grow. How dare they. How dare they make Eunha cry when she was doing nothing but telling the truth?

"You heard me, Eunha," Yugyeom continues, paying no mind to the burning rage that was about to burst within Jungkook. "I said shut the fuck up. So what if (Y/N) wrote a song about Jungkook? Why does it matter? She has every right to. I mean, our next single is literally a song Jungkook wrote after the breakup, so why the fuck are you berating her for doing the same?"

"Because she's hurting our reputation!" Eunha exclaims, clearly frustrated at how Yugyeom and Jaehyun weren't getting her point. "And besides, she was the one in the wrong during the breakup. What right does she have to make a song about it?"

Jaehyun scoffs, glare intensifying, causing Jungkook to clench his fist at their hostility. "And how do you know that when you only heard Jungkook's side of the story and not (Y/N) 's? For all we know, Jungkook could also be in the wro—"

Before Jaehyun could finish his sentence, Jungkook explodes, immediately rushing over to where Jaehyun sat and grabbing him by the collar, causing the rest of the band and Namjoon to panic, trying to break them apart, while Eunha watches, scared. 

"You motherfucker," Jungkook curses, hand raised into a fist, ready to punch Jaehyun in the face with all the force he could muster. But before he could do so, Namjoon and Yugyeom immediately held him back, causing Jaehyun to let out shaky breaths as he glared at Jungkook, hurt, confused, and angry. "Why are you defending her? She was the one who hurt me! You're supposed to be my fucking best friend!"

"Maybe if you actually listened to what she had to say and what she was going through, then we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place," Jaehyun screamed back, anger slowly growing as each moment passed by. "You've always been like this Jungkook, self-centered and fucking mean. (Y/N) was right for wanting to leave."

"What did you say, you fucki—"

"Enough!" Namjoon screams, holding his ground. This had gotten out of hand, and it was beginning to stress him out, and clearly, that same stress was spreading through every single person in the room. This wasn't even supposed to be that big of a deal. All they were supposed to do was listen to the song you wrote, and come up with a statement, So why the hell did this turn into a full-blown fight?

Gosh, Namjoon needed a raise. 

"Jeon Jungkook calm the fuck down, or I'll have you on probation, you hear? The same goes for all of you. I don't want to hear any bullshit about who's right or wrong in the relationship. All I need is for us to listen to the song and figure out what we're going to tell the higher-ups. So stop acting like you're a bunch of teenagers and sit down."

Usually, Namjoon wasn't this scary. But there was a glint in his eyes that taunted the band. And they knew that in the heat of the moment, the best thing to do was to shut up and listen. Besides, he was right. The way they were going, no progress would have been made, leading to further complications. With a huff, Jungkook sits down, staring grumpily into space. He wasn't comfortable with what had just occurred, a frenzy of emotions bottling up inside him from the outburst.

Luckily for him, Eunha was quick to hold his hand into hers, soothing him enough to calm his nerves and mentally prepare himself for what was about to unfold. Because he knew he wasn't going to like it.

And true to his words, the moment Namjoon pressed play, he didn't like it. Not one bit. 

Jungkook couldn't quite pin why your song made his blood boil and heart clench. From an outsider's perspective, it was a good song. A really good song. As a musician himself, Jungkook would never deny that. You had a knack for creating some really great tunes that were out of this world, after all. It was the very thing that made him ask you to start a band with him in the first place. 

But there was just something about this piece in particular that seemed different. Your very aura was different, Jungkook concluded as he watched the video, listening to the way you screamed about how good it was that he was able to move on while you haven't. How you laced memories and fragments of your relationship and expertly wove them together to create a masterpiece that echoed into the very depths of his beating heart. 

It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Because amidst the chaos, you looked free. 

There was something beautiful about the way you were in the middle of a room up in flames, almost to the point where Jungkook knew that it was metaphorical. You liked metaphors. Jungkook remembers how long ago, when the band was just the two of you, you mentioned how metaphors brought out the beauty of the world. They made the ordinary extraordinary. They made the dull come to life. Metaphors were beauty itself, and that's precisely why you loved to play with them so much. 

It's funny to see how that part of you hadn't changed, even after how many years. 

"Jungkook?" Eunha calls out to him, a concerned look gracing over her face. "You okay?" 

Honestly speaking, Jungkook didn't know. The high of his anger had finally settled, and all Jungkook felt was a burning numbness scouring through his veins. It's laughable how mere hours ago, Jungkook was sure that today would be another great day to celebrate how amazing his life was. Yet, here he is, in the middle of a conference room, watching as you submerged yourself underwater at the last scene of your music video, feeling empty. 

He doesn't directly answer Eunha, afraid that if he were to say anything, unwanted words would slip from his lips, and he would unleash another round of chaos and hell. And he was too mentally exhausted to go through that again. So he merely nods, clasping Eunha's hand gently and sighing as Namjoon pauses the video, turning towards the group. 

"Well," Namjoon says, surveying the room to see the band's reactions. But who was he kidding? He knew damn well that the band wasn't nearly overjoyed seeing and hearing what their old friend had to say, especially Jungkook. The poor kid looked lost. "That's that. It looks too vague to be considered a song catered to Jungkook, so I'll inform the higher-ups that it has nothing to do wi--"

Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, causing a deafening silence to befall once more as everyone watches him with cautious eyes, afraid of what he was about to do. 

"I'm going to get a drink," is all he says, moving to head out the door. No one really says anything in protest, Yugyeom and Jaehyun still feeling the aftermath of the previous fight. Only Eunha seemed to be visibly bothered, scoffing at the rest of the team's reactions before quickly latching on to Jungkook's arm. 

"Babe, it's still early in the morning. At least let me accompany you?" She asks, that hopeful glint burning brightly in her eyes, to the point that it makes Jaehyun recline back in his seat uncomfortably, not liking the way she seemed so unnatural. You were never like that. And while Jaehyun knew it was wrong to make comparisons, he couldn't help it. 

You were his best friend just as much as Jungkook was. 

"I'll go alone," is all Jungkook whispers, shrugging Eunha off who is about to protest, but Namjoon is quick to shut her up with a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking his head when she tries to chase after him. Jungkook needed to settle down and sort his thoughts through if he ever wanted a chance at getting through this situation with you. 

And maybe, just maybe, he could finally make amends. 

“Do you have a dream?”

This was the question that started it all, Jungkook supposed. He remembers the very day you asked him that one decisive question that, looking back, changed both of your lives. For good or for worse, Jungkook wasn’t sure. But as he reminisces the memories of the past and tries to figure out where everything went wrong, he couldn’t help the gut-wrenching feeling that settles within him. It’s so upsetting, in fact, that the moment Jungkook arrives in the pub across the street, he immediately drowns himself in a bottle of soju. 

The two of you were spending the lunch break in the empty stairwell, the same place where the two of you first met and the same place where the two of you gradually started to hang out. It was a quiet space, free from the condescending eyes of the perfection-seeking kids you called classmates. It was a space where you and Jungkook could be free, even for just a little while. 

Sipping on his banana milk, Jungkook looks at you curiously. You were staring at the strawberry milk he had bought you, fiddling with it nervously, not even bothering to look him in the eye. He wonders what goes on through your mind, what thoughts dance around within its hollow crevices, shaking you up and causing you to become a nervous wreck. Especially when the question wasn’t as bad as you were probably thinking. 

“Hmm, do you want the honest answer or the answer everyone wants to hear?” He asks back, looking up at the ceiling. For an elite school, they didn’t do well to maintain the more hidden areas. Was that a sign that they really didn’t care about things that weren’t relevant to them? Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn’t particularly care. It was just more bearable t stare at the ceiling than sit in awkward silence, 

“Honest,” you say after a few moments, much more confident than a few moments ago. After hanging out with you for a few months and observing you within the silence of your conversations, Jungkook somehow knows that no matter what he’d do, you would forever be shy. Regardless if you knew someone well or not, the first moments of conversation would always be parallel to a first meeting. It was a curious thing, honestly. But it was more intriguing once he realized that your confidence grew the more you spoke. 

In a way, it was kind of cute. 

“I wanna make music,” Jungkook says after snapping himself out of his trance. He once again averts his gaze from yours, but this time it wasn’t to avoid silence, but rather to think, to immerse himself in his thoughts. Because this was the first time, someone had asked him what he truly wanted to do with life. The first time someone wanted an honest answer from him, not a polished response set up to please his parents and peers. 

“Not the classical kind, though,” he continues, smiling softly to himself. “Not really fond of it as much as you think.” From the corner of his eyes, Jungkook can see you gaping at him in surprise, and it causes him to chuckle. You were never really expressive beyond the weary walls of the seemingly abandoned stairwell. To the rest of the student body, you were expressionless. Someone who took all the beatings and ridicules with a blank face. As if you were a doll, waiting to be ruined. 

But here, you were much more alive. Much more expressive than Jungkook was used to seeing. It was as if the (Y/N) beyond the worn steps of the stairwell was an entirely different person. A mask you placed upon yourself to protect your heart from the cruel reality you had come to face. And Jungkook was more than fascinated at the fact that you had brought that mask down for him. 

“If I could, I’d do rock, maybe even some metal If I got enough courage,” he continues, smiling to himself unknowingly giddy at the sight of you. “There’s just something different about it, you know? The music runs through your system and gets you all hyped up; you just can’t resist it. And when the beat drops, it’s as if your emotions are on an all-time high, and it weirdly makes you kind of free. It made me realize that this was what music was supposed to be, I guess.”

“Wow,” you mutter, after staying within the silence of your initial awe. “That’s... poetic.” Jungkook laughs at the look of disbelief in his face, shooting his empty carton of banana milk in the air and watching in satisfaction as it lands straight into the empty trash can just right down the corner before turning to you, a grin high on his lips. 

“Oh, come on,” he whines, rolling his eyes playfully. “Why do you sound so surprised? Do I not look like I’d be a good musician?”

“It’s not that!” You quickly exclaim in your defense, flailing your arms in the air to avert Jungkook’s thoughts about the situation. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was only joking, highly amused at your reactions, wanting to see more. “I just assumed you’d be more into sports, you know, since you’re so good at it? If you ask me, you kind of look like you’d do well in either football or basketball… so I just kind of assumed that was what you wanted to actually pursue. Not that wanting to pursue music is a bad thing! It’s great, it’s just that rock is kind of unexpected....” 

You were beginning to ramble at this point, the shy sheep from within you bursting forth as you fiddled with your thumbs nervously, anxious to see Jungkook’s reaction. Would he be mad at you for assuming things about him off the bat? Probably not, right? You did initiate the conversation by asking him what his dream was, after all. Wait, maybe this was your fault. Gosh, you should have just asked any other question that wasn’t as deep. 

This friendship thing was too difficult for your liking. 

As you bury yourself in your thoughts, Jungkook couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. It was small at first, almost going unheard by you who was so deeply consumed by the matters of your mind, but the more Jungkook laughed, the louder he got until he was full-on cackling, much to your dismay, confusion, and shock. 

“What’s so funny?” You ask frantically, trying to make sense of his actions. Did you say something wrong? As far as you knew, you hadn’t, but what if you had and accidentally crossed the line? You hoped not. You really didn’t want to screw any chance you had at having a real, genuine friend. But to your dismay, your questions remain unanswered as Jungkook continues to laugh, almost as if he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. 

“Hey!” You exclaim, pouting. “Stop laughing at me, Jungkook!”

“I-i’m sorry,” He says after a few more laughs, trying to wipe the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes. “I couldn’t help it,” He laughs again, although this time, it seems as if he’s calmed down, sporting a cheeky smile. “Your reactions are just something else!”

Jungkook watches as you become flustered, once more, much to his fascination and amusement. He’s never been the teasing type, or more like, he’s never had the opportunity to become the teasing type, especially with the perfect image he had to curate in front of his peers. But he liked this. He liked being friends with you. It made him all the more free. 

“What about you?” He suddenly asks after a while, feeling that it was high time to cut you some slack. You look up at him in confusion as if you had entirely forgotten why this entire conversation had happened in the first place. “Do you have a dream?”

It’s silent, yet this time, Jungkook notes, the silence is uncanny. It’s not the same comfortable silence that Jungkook is used to whenever he was hanging out with you. It was as if the silence had suddenly crashed down and enveloped the cheery atmosphere in its deceitful arms. A trap, if you will. 

And Jungkook was unsure whether he wanted to break free from it or stay there with you. 

But you take the first step, finally looking up to meet him in the eyes, and Jungkook can feel his heart sink just a tad bit from how empty and solemn they were. “I don’t think so,” is all you say, brushing off the concerned look on Jungkook’s face with a smile. “I’ve never really given it much thought. That’s why I asked,” you chuckle halfheartedly, staring up at the ceiling. “Although I think it would be nice,” you say, smiling a bit more genuinely. “You know, to have a dream?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to react to that, anyway? No matter how difficult his life was, he had always had a dream. It kept him going, made him push through no matter the difficulty. Dreams were the driving force of life. The hope amidst the darkness. To not have a dream, even just a small one, rattled Jungkook. 

It terrified him because now Jungkook realized that he knew nothing about you despite you being his first friend. He didn’t know the reason why you decided to become a living doll in the eyes of others. He didn’t understand why you subjected yourself to such suffering when, from the small talks you and Jungkook had with each other, you seemed to have a loving family. 

He wanted to help you, to be there for you. Because he wasn’t sure whether or not you were actually feeling lost. That’s what friends were for, right? Jungkook wasn’t exactly sure on how to do this whole friendship thing, but if there was one thing he did know, it was the fact that friends helped each other. 

And Jungkook would be damned if he couldn’t help you in any way that he could.

Soju bottles littered the lone table that Jungkook sat upon. At this point, he wasn’t sure how many bottles he had drunk, but it sure was many, more than he could handle if he were, to be honest, but amidst his drunken state, he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Why was he acting like this anyway? 

He was supposed to be happy. His band was one of the most successful ones out there. He had thousands, if not millions of fans, who supported him in everything he did. So why, just why was this insignificant matter affecting him so greatly?

Was it because it was you?

“Dear, are you alright?” The old woman, running the pub asks, concerned as she sets down a piping hot bowl of warm hangover soup, which has Jungkook’s mouth watering to the point where drool almost seeps out, mainly because he only had a bite of a sandwich on his way to the office which Eunha forcibly made him eat. But even so, he couldn’t bring himself to eat, especially with the array of emotions that were burning deep within him. “Do you need me to call someone for you?”

Jungkook stays silent, not even bothering to respond to the old lady, who only grows wearier at the lack of response. He didn’t mean to be rude. It was just that he couldn’t find the strength to actually do anything but wallow in his own misery. His thoughts were going on haywire, with no place to land in sight. 

What had he done to deserve this? He was sure he had done nothing wrong, so why were you doing this to him when all he had done was, be nothing but nice to you? He had supported you ever since the beginning, and this was how you repaid him?

He doesn’t notice how the old lady leaves to call someone from the company, despite him not saying anything. It was probably for the best anyway. He was too out of it to even ask for help. The old lady was right and kind for going out of her way to do this for him. Although it made sense, after all, this specific pub was where Jungkook had been drinking ever since he had reached adulthood. 

Maybe she would call Namjoon? It was likely, but Jungkook hoped not. He was sure that if Namjoon were to see his sorry state, he would scold him until his ears bled out. Although he couldn’t really blame Namjoon, if any manager were to see their client drinking away their woes like he was, they would probably freak out. Primarily since he was known for drinking at most two bottles. Jungkook just really didn’t want to deal with Namjoon right now, especially after what had transpired earlier. 

He hoped that she would call Eunha. Sweet, loveable Eunha, who was there for him when the shitshow that was his breakup with you went down. Even until now, Jungkook was still in the dark of why you had left him and the band, but Eunha was the one who stayed by his side. Ever since he had met her two years ago when she first entered the company, they had become the best of friends. And now she was his girlfriend, and he couldn’t be happier. 

All of a sudden, a familiar voice wafts through the empty pub. One that has Jungkook’s head whipping everywhere it could to figure out where it was coming from. It was sweet, melodic even. But at the same time, it had a hint of melancholy and freedom? Why was the voice so familiar? Where had he heard it before? 

Jungkook’s eyes darted around, trying to see if he could spot the culprit behind his dilemma until they finally landed on the wide TV that sat in the middle of the pub, presumably for their customer’s enjoyment. And lo and behold, in his eyes, he sees you. 

It was a local music show where famous stars would often find themselves performing to promote their new music. He assumed you were there to perform your new single, the one song that had him sitting here broken and destroyed with pride in your chest. Did you enjoy this?

Did you enjoy knowing that he was broken because of you?

He hated it. He hated how bright your smile was the moment he caught sight of the camera focusing on you as the hosts began their interview. You were brilliant, cheery, happy. And it sickened Jungkook to the core. Why did it seem like you were doing fine when he was here all bothered? How selfish could you possibly be? 

But as much as it hurts him, he can’t find it in himself to look away. It’s a strange sensation that Jungkook couldn’t quite explain. Why couldn’t he avert his eyes from you when all he’s been feeling today was pain? It didn’t make sense. But honestly, Jungkook couldn’t tell what made sense anymore. 

He watches you sing, hearing those blasted lyrics that made him rage just mere moments ago. Yet, this time, the lyrics made his heart clench. Perhaps it was the fact that your performance seemed more genuine because you were singing live. But why? Why were you singing those lyrics as if they had genuinely happened to you? Jungkook never caused you any pain, so why did it seem as if you were hurting more than him? 

The thoughts were too much. It was driving Jungkook crazy, and all he wanted to do was drown in them. He didn’t want to think. Thinking heightened the pain that brimmed deep within his chest. He just wanted to float in the ocean of his misery and stay there, hoping that someday he would land ashore and the pain would come to an end. 

Maybe if he took one more shot, it would help? 

He pours down the last remaining soju into his shot glass, not caring if it overflowed and spilled out on the table. Rationality was far out of his mind at this point. All Jungkook wanted to do was do anything that would make him feel numb. 

He raises the glass shakily, ready to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol run down his throat, that temporary relief that made him sink deep down into this endless cycle of emptiness. Yet, it doesn’t happen. 

A hand shoots down to stop his wrist. It’s a familiar yet unfamiliar hold, something Jungkook can’t quite place. Where has he felt this hold before? He looks up, his eyesight a bit blurry from his drunken state, so he squints, trying to see clearly. 

Who was it? Namjoon? Eunha? Heck, Jaehyun?

Turns out it was none of them. 

When his sight finally clears, he gasps in shock, breath hitching in his throat as he takes it all in. Because the person, whose hold was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time, wasn’t his manager, nor was it his girlfriend or best friend. 

It was you. 

The person, the old lady, had called to get him was you. 

Well, Jungkook be damned. 

When you got the call from the old lady, you were on your way to your new studio after finishing up a schedule you had prior. The past few weeks have been busy for you. Leaving the band and Jungkook was no easy feat. It was a decision that you knew was a high-risk, high reward yet at the same time had higher chances of failure. 

After all, even if you hated to admit it. Without the band, you had nothing. 

Sure, there was the fame that came with all of the band’s success. You were the vocalist, after all. It was exhilarating knowing that millions out there would be listening to your voice, singing music you created with people you loved dearly. But in the midst of all of that, there was nothing. 

Jungkook, Jaehyun, and Yugyeom had everything going on for them. A backup plan in case the band didn’t succeed. A plan B, if you will. It made sense. They had privilege dripping from the palms of their hand, after all. Even if they had their own troubles and doubts, they didn’t have to worry about finding another way out because there already was a path laid out for them in the beginning. 

You went into all of this, risking everything. 

It was a choice that you had seemingly made on impulse if an outsider were to look back at the situation. When Jungkook had asked you to start a band with him, it was during another one of your many lunch dates, as you two had jokingly called it. Only this time, the two of you weren’t sitting on the cold and empty stairwell, but instead, you were in the old music room. 

“I can’t believe this,” Jungkook mumbles to himself as he cranks the rusted door of the old music room open. People barely used it nowadays, much to his disbelief yet relief at the same time. He couldn’t blame them though, the brand new music room was much more enchanting, filled with top-of-the-grade musical instruments than anyone would drool over. 

Well, at least it meant that he could have autonomy over the room (even though that wasn’t really the case). “You’re telling me that you never heard rock or metal before?” He gapes in disbelief as he sits on one of the dusty desks, looking at you with an outraged expression. You sheepishly enter behind him, taking a sip of your drink as you took a seat beside him. 

“You never asked,” is all you say, shrugging. Jungkook looks at you once more incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes and ears. “That’s because I assumed you would have known what rock and metal are! They’re like the greatest music genres of all time. How can you not know it?”

You shrug once more, not really having an answer. Well, you did, but it was probably stupid. After all, if this was his reaction to you not knowing about rock and metal. What would his response be if he were to find out that the only music you’d ever listened to was classical and nursery rhymes? Yeah, probably not a good idea. 

“Well, get ready then,” he exclaims, bringing out his phone, much to your surprise. Model student and Mr. Perfect Jeon Jungkook breaking a school rule? Who would have thought that you’d ever lived to see the day? “Because you’re about to experience an awakening, I tell you. A revolution!”

It’s amusing, really. You had never seen Jungkook as passionate as he was at the moment. Was this what it was like to have a dream? His eyes lit up as if sparkles were floating around him. As if he were about to step on cloud nine and enter paradise. He was bouncing his leg lightly in excitement, a goofy smile on his face that kind of reminded you of a bunny. 

Maybe having a dream wouldn’t be so bad, after all. 

He immediately scoots over to you once he has his phone ready, grabbing his earphones and plugging it into his phone, handing you the other ear. You hold it, a small smile on your face, and hook it unto your ear, not really knowing what to expect but excited all the same. After all, this was the music that made your best friend passionate and hopeful for the future. For sure, it wouldn’t be bad, right? 

Well, to say the least, it was an experience. An experience you couldn’t quite tell if you enjoyed or couldn’t fathom. It was entirely different from the music that you were used to. From the bright and soothing tones came ones that were heavy and thundered on your ears. Yet, in a way, it was exhilarating. 

You could see why Jungkook was attracted to this style of music. In a way, it was unhinged, a little more rebellious than the traditional types of music you were used to. But that didn’t mean it was worse. In fact, that’s what made it more exciting. Jungkook was right. In those few minutes that he had introduced you to the world of rock, you’ve gone through an array of emotions, from confusion to thrill and excitement of the highest level. The rollercoaster of new sensations was, to say the least, intoxicating, 

Because immediately you got hooked. 

“Wow,” you mutter, looking up at Jungkook, who was looking back at you with lively eyes. “That was… something else.” 

“Right?!” He exclaims, immediately jumping off the desk to grasp your hands in excitement; it was endearing to see. Jungkook rarely got riled up like this. Music truly brought out the best in him, you thought to yourself, watching as he continued to dangle your hands in his. “Isn’t rock just amazing? Oh, what I’d do to pick up an electric guitar and play,” He sighs, and you can tell from the far-away look on his face that he’s daydreaming about something and the sight warms your heart. 

“You should,” is all you say, startling Jungkook out of his trance. “I think you’d do absolutely great in music, Jungkook! You should go for it.” Jungkook looks at you, stunned. He blinks, trying to process what you had just said, before clasping your fingers a bit tighter, unsure of himself. 

“Really?” He mutters softly, “You really think I can do it?”

“Of course,” you encourage with a bright smile. “If it’s you, then you can do anything!”

It’s silent for a moment, with Jungkook deep in thought. But you don’t necessarily mind, as more than anything, you understood the weight of your words. Being Jungkook’s friend meant that you stuck by him through a lot of undesirable moments, moments that both of you promised to never speak of unless it was absolutely necessary. 

You knew how much he longed for his dreams. Ever since that rather inspiring conversation you had around a week ago, you knew just how much Jungkook bottled up his true passions and desires, even though there were moments wherein he would freely let them out. 

“Then you have to be there with me,” he says, eyes filled with determination. “I don’t think I can do this without you (Y/N).”

Looking back at it, you chuckle at how swooned you were with Jungkook’s words. It was crazy to think that he had swept you off your feet with a mere ten words that ultimately decided the course of a good chunk of your life. You let him, and for that, you were to blame, But that didn’t necessarily mean that you regretted your decision in its entirety. 

Suddenly, your phone rings from beside you, and you grab it from where it lay in your purse, only to see an old number that you hadn’t seen in a while. It’s been a year, you think, as you accept the call, pressing your phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“(Y/N) dear! It’s been such a long time!” You smile at the cheery sound present within the old lady’s voice, although you can’t deny that you hear a twinge of worry within it. You used to go to her pub every so often back when you were still in the band. And the old lady had been such a sweet soul, acting as some sort of parental figure to you and your bandmates through the years. 

“It’s good to hear from you again,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised at her sudden call but also a bit suspicious because you had no idea what she was calling for. “May I ask why you’re calling me?”

“Ah!” The old lady exclaims, and suddenly the initial chirp present within her fades into a frantic tone that has your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, not sure what to expect. “Do you mind picking up your boyfriend?”

You blink, confused and startled. “I’m sorry,” you say, still not processing it clearly. “What was that?”

You hear a sigh from the other side of the phone. It sounds tiring, exasperated even, Which shouldn’t be the case since the pub usually opens up later at night. It was only open during the day for company employees. And what sane person would cause trouble with this much sunlight out? 

“Your boyfriend dear,” the old lady continues, sounding absolutely done, yet at the same time, the concern was still there, and you swear you hear the sound of glass falling in the back, causing your eyebrows to furrow in worry. “He’s been drinking for hours, and this is more than he’s ever drunk!”

You stay silent, letting it all sink in. The only person she could have possibly been referring to was Jungkook. There was no doubt about that. After all, the old lady’s pub was where you and Jungkook would often find yourselves having late-night rendezvous, drinking the night away as you bonded over whatever life was throwing at you within those moments. 

But now, the pub gave you nothing but pain. 

“Grandma, I’m sorry to tell you this, but me and Jungkook aren’t—”

“—So you’ll come, yes? Thank you, dear! Truly a lifesaver!” 

She hangs up. You stare at your phone in disbelief, shocked at the predicament you had unknowingly gotten yourself into. What were you supposed to do now? The responsible thing to do was to probably phone Namjoon and tell him about the situation. But with what had just transpired earlier today with the release of your single last night and your performance this morning, you’re not so sure he would appreciate any sort of contact from you. 

With a sigh, you turn to head towards the pub. No matter how much you hated Jungkook for the way he treated you within the last few stages of your relationship, you couldn’t leave him alone to wallow in his misery (even though there was a part of you that was secretly glad that he was torn because of you). It would be too cruel of you. Especially considering that Jungkook had been a significant part of your life. 

Huh, guess you haven’t moved on as much as you thought you had. 

Even just reaching the pub brought back memories that you wish wouldn’t resurface. You and Jungkook used to wrestle over who would open the door for the other, and more often than not, Jungkook won. But you weren’t one to lose quickly, even to him. 

The familiar jingle that came with opening the door brought a pang of nostalgia to your heart. When you and Jungkook would enter the pub, just ten seconds after the jingle faded away, the old lady would come out of her quaint kitchen and say

“Welcome home— Oh, there you are, dear!”

Not exactly how you remembered it, but it was still familiar all the same. 

“Hello grandma, how are you?” You greet with a solemn smile, watching with fond eyes as the old lady comes up to clasp your hands within her own. “Oh dear, I haven’t seen you in forever. Why haven’t you visited in so long?” 

You’re not sure what to say. How are you supposed to tell her that you left and broke up with the man she asked you to pick up? That would put her in an awkward position, and you didn’t want to cause stress for the already weary lady. 

“Oh, never mind that,” she says, luckily dropping the subject. “Come in, come in, your boyfriend’s over there drinking in the corner. Did something happen? I’ve honestly never seen him drink this much before. At this rate, he’s going to finish my soju supply before I open up for the night!” 

You enter the main area, and immediately you’re hit with the familiar, comforting scent of alcohol and home-cooked meals, as odd as it sounds. Although the smell of alcohol was by far heavier in the air, and as you turn to look for the source, your eyes land in Jungkook.

And you’re, for lack of a better word, shocked.

It was almost as if he was drowning in an ocean of soju bottles, with some of the alcohol dripping off the table and into the ground or his clothes. Partly because he was pouring himself another shot, which you know he can’t take.

He could barely handle two bottles when the two of you were dating, so why did it feel like he was drinking more than ten. If he wasn’t stopped now, something majorly damaging could happen to him, and as much as you never wanted to speak to him, you couldn’t just ignore him when he was literally on the brink of life and death.

You stomp on over to where he’s at, hastily quickening your steps as he’s about to down his last shot, and before you can even think about what to do, your instincts act on their own, and your hand reaches out to him, stopping him.

No words are spoken. Rather, you can’t find the words to say as you watch with solemn eyes as Jungkook looks at his hand confused. He tries to shake it, to move his arm so he can bring the shot glass to his lips, but you remain firm in your grip, clasping just a bit harder so he wouldn’t push through with the shot. 

He looks around, following the trail left by your grasp until he meets your eyes, and already you can feel the whirlwind of emotions bubbling up inside you. This was the first time you and Jungkook have met after the breakup after leaving the band. You never expected the two of you to meet this way. Although, you supposed life was funny like that. It liked to throw unexpected situations in your face, especially in the most inappropriate times.

You watch as he squints, trying to make sense of who you were before he gasps, arm slacking, falling into the side as the alcohol from the shot glass splatters into the air. He squints once more as if trying to ensure that what he was seeing in front of him was real before stammering. 

“(Y/N)?” He whispers, broken, voice breaking. You try not to let your emotions show, knowing that if you do, he’d only lure you back into him, which was something you did not want at all. You were done. After many months, heck years of being torn apart by him, you couldn’t afford any more pain. It would break you even more than it already did, 

“Hey,” you whisper back, breath hitching as you watch the way Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sound of your voice, loud and clear for him to hear. Even with his drunken state, he can’t deny the pang of nostalgia that runs through his veins once he finally registers that it’s you standing before him. In the flesh. Not a vision on TV or a picture of you from his memories. 

It was you. 

“What are you doing here?” He slurs, trying to reach out to you, but you move away, refusing him any form of affection. Because you two were too far gone for that. 

“Grandma called,” is all you say, the disappointed look in Jungkook’s eyes not going unnoticed. “Asked me to pick you up. Said you’ve been drinking more than you used to and… I can see that.”

You gesture to the empty soju bottles that littered the table with a grimace, turning back to Jungkook only to hear him scoff and point a finger to you accusingly, although with his drunken state, his posture was way off. “Who do you think’s to blame?” He asks, sarcasm laced within his tone. You raise an eyebrow at that, choosing to let him continue before you could offer back any sarcastic remark of your own. 

“It’s you!” He continues, slamming his fist to the table, much to your surprise. “You and your stupid fucking song…. I mean, what the fuck is up that?”

“What the fuck is up with what, Jungkook?” You quip back, eyeing his fist cautiously in the case he would do something dangerous that would either injure him, you, or if worse comes to worst, both. 

“Don’t play dumb with me,” He continues, and Jungkook can feel the irritation, frustration, and fatigue build within him now that he’s finally gotten a chance to let all these raging emotions out. “You know what you did! Why’d you do it, huh?” His voice grows louder, causing you to flinch as you move your chair back just a bit. 

“Why’d you have to ruin my fucking reputation?” 

All of a sudden, it’s like something in you snaps. 

You can’t believe it. You can’t believe the audacity Jungkook had to say something as outrageous and stupid as what he just said. The emotions that were already burning up within you finally exploded as you stared at him with all the anger and disbelief you could muster. 

And here you thought he was drinking because he had finally realized all the wrongs he had done to you. What a fool you were. 

“Excuse me?” You say, exasperated. “What did you just fucking say?”

“I said what I said (Y/N),” Jungkook continued, not noticing the way rage was about to take you into its waiting arms, only to allow you to explode upon him with all the pent-up hurt that you’ve accumulated inside you. “You and your fucking song ruined the band any my reputation. Is this how you repay me after everything I’ve done for you?”

You blink. The words slowly make their way towards you as you try to process them, letting out a chuckle at how ridiculous his words were. “Are you being serious right now?” You say, scoffing at how there wasn’t an inch of regret on Jungkook’s face. “You’ve got to be joking, right?”

You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You want to give him a chance to prove your ears, mind, and heart wrong. That he wasn’t actually thinking those absurd thoughts that had your gut-wrenching and your heartbreaking after already being broken. This couldn’t be the Jungkook that you knew, right? He wouldn’t be this cruel, right? 

“Do I look like I’m joking?” 

“You piece of shit.” You spat without even realizing it, surprising Jungkook. He’s sobered up just a little from your outburst, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, you regret speaking without any thought. But the more you try to rationalize it, the more the anger burns. This was unacceptable. 

“Reputation?” You scoff, looking at him incredulously. “You’re fucking worried about your reputation when there are bigger issues to be addressed here?” 

“(Y/N) I—”

“Shut up, Jungkook,” you say, cutting him off coldly. “You don’t get a say in this when all you’re worried about is your reputation over a broken relationship with someone you’ve grown up with for the past thirteen years!” 

Wide-eyed, Jungkook gapes at you, and you, in your disgruntled state, take this chance to get back at him, unleashing all the feelings you’ve buried deep inside you. 

“You dare ask me why I’m treating you this way when you’ve been nothing but nice to me?” You mock, his words hurting more than they should. “Do you even bother to ask yourself as to why I broke up with you in the first place, Jungkook? Why I left? Did you even bother to listen to my song?” 

His silence echoes throughout the pub, further shattering any lingering hope that you had about the situation. “No,” he says after a while, firm in his belief as he stared back at you, although his gaze seemed as if it could easily water away. “Didn’t think it was necessary; after all I did nothing wro—”

“—You treated me like shit for the last two years of our relationship, Jungkook. That’s what you did wrong.” You exclaim, not wanting to hear his excuses. “Are you really this blind to not know? To not see your own faults?”

How could he? You think to yourself, the unbearable pain of this revelation thrumming through every fibre of your being. It was painful. Painful to hear that he hadn’t even thought about the situation through your lens. He was too absorbed with what he had going for himself that he failed to see the world through your eyes, and it frustrated you to no end.

Because that breakup broke you like no other. 

Choosing to leave wasn’t an easy decision, by no means. You had risked everything to help support Jungkook in hopes that you would find a dream of your own. You joined the band, knowing that you would put your family’s safety and security at risk instead of pursuing a more stable career like starting a business or becoming a doctor.

You became selfish to follow Jungkook, so of course, you were attached. 

Jungkook, in a sense, was your world. You suppose, looking back at it now, that wasn’t the healthiest decision you took for yourself. But at that time, you could not help yourself. He was your first friend, your first love, your first everything. Jungkook showed you the ways of the world and then shattered it without a care. Of course, more than any other breakup, it would tear you apart.

Because to be honest, loving Jungkook made you happy. You remember when he first asked you out. Probably one of the best moments of your entire life. It happened after your band’s first major gig to open up the local summer festival. The two of you were still calming down from the high of the performance, excited, thrilled to have finally been given the opportunity in front of a bigger crowd. It felt surreal seeing the fascinated faces and happy smiles as they listen to your music.

Jungkook was right. This feeling was incredible.

“Holy shit. That was amazing,” Jaehyun laughs, hugging Yugyeom before turning to hug you and Jungkook. “I can’t believe we just did that!” 

“Do you think they liked us?” Yugyeom, ever the timid one asks. “I felt like I made a mistake somewhere along the second cho—“

“—Who cares, man?” Jungkook says, cutting Yugyeom off with a playful slap to the back. “We just fucking performed our first major gig. This isn’t time to be wallowing down on our mistakes. This is a time to celebrate!” 

You and Jaehyun hollered in agreement, following Jungkook as he dragged Yugyeom backstage where the four of you packed up, took a few commemorative pictures, and made your way towards the nearest convenience store to celebrate the night with some good old ramen, ice cream, and whatever your hearts desired.

It was a fun night, one filled with laughter as the four of you joked about whatever your mind could think of. Jungkook boasted about how he was right about their band getting somewhere, of how Jaehyun and Yugyeom, who were much more hesitant in joining the band, and after months of no progress, we’re beginning to regret it, had nothing to worry about. 

Jaehyun and Yugyeom even mustered up the courage to do a speed eating challenge, grabbing about her round of hot piping ramen and racing to see who could eat it the fastest, despite the heat burning their tongues both literally and figuratively.

It was a night where for once, the four of you didn’t have to worry about life outside of the band. Didn’t have to worry about the social pressure from school or home, Didn’t have to worry about stupid tests or becoming the best, for once the four of you could just be yourselves. Unapologetic and free.

When Jaehyun and Yugyeom decided to pack it up and head home, saying that if they didn’t arrive before their dreaded curfew, then their parents would literally send them to the pits of hell, you didn’t notice the way Jungkook grew silent. Maybe you did, but you were too preoccupied with the nauseated looks on Jaehyun and Yugyeom’s faces as they headed towards the public restroom to flush out the ramen in their system. 

“Hey (Y/N)?” Jungkook asks once Jaehyun and Yugyeom are nowhere to be seen. You hum in response, turning to look back at him, and immediately your eyes become overwhelmed with worry at the serious look on his face as he gazes up at the night sky, seemingly nervous and scared.

“Will you go out with me?”

It’s unexpected, a bomb to your heart if you could call it. You gasp the moment the words flow out of his mouth, staring at Jungkook in shock. Did he really just ask you out? 

You think it’s a joke. A cruel trick of nature. But by the way, Jungkook nervously fidgets from where he sits, and his eyes nervously dart around. Like they usually do during nerve-wracking situations like these, you knew in your heart that his words were true.

And you couldn’t be more overjoyed because you had fallen for Jeon Jungkook too. 

Throughout your many years of friendship, you had gotten to know Jungkook inside out. You were there when he threw a mini tantrum over missing first place in the final exam by one point, knowing that his parents would be disappointed in him. You were there when the two of you went out to buy his first-ever electric guitar after months of saving up money secretly. You were there for him when he was convincing Jaehyun and Yugyeom to join the band, even when he was about to get into a fight with Jaehyun over the matter.

And like clockwork, you had fallen.

It wasn’t particularly hard to do so. Jungkook had this certain charm to him, after all. He was an enigma. He could draw people into his rhythm like it was nothing and have them follow to the beat of his own drum. Sometimes you wondered if there was a hidden secret with the way he could so easily attract people, but the more you hung out, the more you realized that wasn’t the case at all. He was genuine in everything he did.

“Yes,” you say without hesitation, causing Jungkook to whip his head to face you in the blink of an eye, mouth slacking in shock. He blinks, you smile, and suddenly a smile of his own is forming on his face, reaching all the way into his eyes. 

“For real?” He whispers, not wanting this moment to slip away from his grasp. He was so close to having you in his arms, something he’s wanted for the longest time, that he was afraid that if he spoke any louder, he would ruin any chance he got. But your reassuring gaze and gentle hold immediately calm the raging wave of anxiety within him. “For real,” you affirm, and suddenly you’re in Jungkook’s embrace. 

It’s a warm embrace, one that has you returning it back with the same vigor, the same excitement bubbling in your chest. This marked the beginning of a new chapter for you and Jungkook, one where the two of you would walk down the unclear path you have chosen, still remaining by each other’s side, but this time, with hands intertwined.

You just wished it didn’t go up into flames like this.

You blink, snapping out of your trance as you gaze at Jungkook. Once more, seeing the way his lips were pursed into a thin line, his brows furrowed as if he had a lot going on through his mind. Which was only fitting. He had to, or else this wave of hurt and pain would only intensify and turn into something you would never be able to control. 

Remembering the happy moments was something you had promised yourself not to do, for it only brought you into another world of pain after looking at how the two of you were faring now. But in the midst of agony staring right at you, you couldn’t help but let yourself reminisce in hopes of relieving some of that anger and hurt so you wouldn’t do anything out of hand. 

“Tell me, Jungkook,” you finally say after a moment of silence, and you want to curse yourself for the way your voice cracks at the end. You had to be strong. You had to get through this. Because there was no way, you were going to let Jungkook ruin you once more. “How do you think our relationship was going within the last two years?”

Silence befalls the room for what feels like the millionth time, But this one is heavier than the last. Jungkook looks at you with such a severe gaze that you almost falter, forgetting the fact that he’s drunk with the way his eyes bore into yours. 

You dread his answer, not knowing what to expect. With the way, he was acting, and with all the things he’s said and done, you knew that his words would only hurt you even more from here on out. You clutch the fanfic of your sweater tightly, hanging on by a thread. 

But he says nothing.

The heavy silence lasts longer, and the more it persists, the more disappointment and disbelief creep into the cracked crevices of your already broken heart. Was he really going to act this way? Saying nothing at all? Did your relationship mean nothing to him in the past 2 years? 

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, letting out a scoff as your eyes scan his figure. He’s hunched up as if unsure of what to do, what to think, or what to say. There’s probably a flurry of emotions running through his mind, but you don’t pity him. You hope it continues to weigh heavy, as it did to you for the last three years. 

“I was miserable, Jungkook,” you whisper, recounting the memories you had buried deep within, afraid to open them up again at the cost of your already fragile happiness. But to be truly happy, one needs to let go of all the agony locked within. “Ever since Eunha came into our lives, you started treating me like a side character, as if I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

“And no,” you say sternly, already knowing what Jungkook was to say by the way his eyes widened and his mouth slacked, an arm up in protest for your words. “I’m not blaming Eunha entirely, contrary to what you may think. Sure, her arrival started it all. Sure, there were times where she acted so out of line that I wanted to slap her in the face n’s remind her who exactly she was talking to. But I couldn’t. Do you know why, Jungkook?” 

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you take a deep breath as you gather your thoughts. This was the first time you were finally going to let out all of your frustrations that’s been building up inside you for the past few years. It was a nerve-wracking feat, but a necessary one nonetheless, as even in those few moments of speaking, you were starting to feel just a bit more free. 

“Because I didn’t even know who I was anymore.”

Jungkook’s never been this confused in his life. 

It’s as if you had dropped a bomb on him without warning, causing him to be in a frenzy. What did you mean? How could you blame Eunha? Eunha was a sweet girl who could do no wrong. She was there for him whenever he needed that extra support, whenever he needed someone to ground him in this cruel, unforgiving world. 

She was there when you weren’t and was a constant in his life. How could such a sweet girl like her be the catalyst of this catastrophic situation? It had to be a joke.

“You’re lying,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. The pain in his heart was coming back again, and just when he thought he had finally gotten rid of that after drowning in alcohol moments ago. This was your fault. You and your stupid song, your stupid lies. You were driving me crazy.

“I’m lying?” You ask, and Jungkook looks up to meet your eyes, feeling another burst of pain shoot through him at the agonizing expression on your face. Why did you look so hurt? He did nothing wrong. He didn’t hurt you. He couldn’t have. He had always been there for you. He was the reason you could do what you could in the first place. There was just no way that misery was because of him.

“Jungkook, did you even realize that with how much time you were spending with Eunha, you weren’t spending time with me anymore? Remember how you used to walk me home at midnight after your time at the studio and my radio show? You stopped doing that ever since she appeared.”

Lies.

“For days, I stood outside the company for hours, waiting for you to bring me home because you promised that you’d never miss it for the world. And on the day that I finally decided to check up on you, worried that you might have been overworking yourself? I see you in the studio, laughing with Eunha.”

 Jungkook wanted to scream. He was stressed. He had to make music. Why couldn’t you understand that? 

“And when I confronted you about it? You shrugged me off, saying I was overly dramatic.”

You are. Jungkook insists in his head, thoughts spiraling. What’s wrong with him not bringing you home. Even if he was your boyfriend, he was not obligated to, right? You were supposed to understand him, right? That’s what lovers are supposed to do.

“I thought to myself, maybe you were right. Maybe I was overdramatic, so I did what you asked and shrugged me off. Yet, with each passing day, it felt like I was a stranger in your eyes. Do you even realize Jungkook that ever since Eunha came into our lives, we’ve only been on three dates?” 

You’re too demanding, his mind screams. Three dates? That was plenty for successful stars of your caliber. You had to understand that being under the limelight meant that he couldn’t reserve all the time in the world for you. 

His heart clenches painfully again, and Jungkook feels a sob hitch in his throat. 

“It hurt.” You cry, letting out the words that Jungkook wanted to say. “It hurt so much watching the love of my life and my best friend toss me to the side. Where was the you that promised that you’d always be there for me? Where was the you that promised to stay?” 

You’re crying now, tears streaming down your face as the words you’ve kept hidden for the longest time finally make their way out of your system. Every part of you was screaming in agony and pain, and you can feel the mended parts of your patched-up heart slowly break again. 

“Jungkook, I loved you. I loved you so much that I risked it all for you. I joined the band even though I wasn’t sure of our future because I saw how happy you were. You showed me what happiness could be, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that, but at the same time, you showed me firsthand real pain and heartbreak. And I don’t think I can ever forgive you for doing that.” 

No. Why? You had to forgive him. You were his best friend. Stop. Stop speaking. Stop it. 

“I left because I wanted to keep what we still had within our memories.” You whisper, remembering the night you finally came to your decision. Remembering all the times you cried and broke down, not knowing what to do or where you should go. All the times where you forced yourself to put on a smile on your face and act as if everything was fine even though it wasn’t. 

“And I hoped that in leaving, we could pick up all the broken pieces and create something new with them. Maybe it would not have been a relationship as strong as the one we’ve had before. But at least it was something. And at least I would have still had a connection to you.”

You’re calm now, in a much better headspace than before. But that didn’t mean the ocean of despair that you surrounded yourself in dwindled in the slightest. It was still there, waiting in silence for the moment it could envelop you once more into its treacherous arms and drown you in its suffocating whispers. 

“But what the fuck is this?” 

You can feel the tides begin to sway, and you will yourself desperately to keep them down. With how the situation was unfolding, you needed to be the bigger person. For your sanity, For Jungkook’s, and for the closure that you both needed, which you weren’t sure would ever peacefully come to an end. 

“I never thought that you’d think of us like this Jungkook,” you whisper, and much to your horror, a tear slipped from the crevices of eyes as you hurriedly wiped them, standing up to grab your purse as you stood to leave the pub, not caring one bit if Jungkook got home safely or not, you were too overwhelmed to care. 

“I thought you loved me,” You whisper as you turn to look at him one final time, and all of a sudden, Jungkook is hit with wave after wave of sadness, anger, pain, frustration radiating from you. It suffocates him, and the only thought running through his head were questions of him hurting you? Was this really all his fault? 

“But I guess you only loved yourself.” A chuckle falls from your lips as you make your first step out of the door. Not paying mind to the old lady who looks at you with a worried gaze, you turn to open the door of the pub, only for someone else to beat you to it. 

Lo and Behold, It’s Eunha. 

“You,” She gasps as she takes in your disheveled and exhausted state. Although that immediate shock quickly disappears as she catches Jungkook’s equally petrified state from the corner of her eye. She then glares at you, but you honestly can’t find the energy within you to care.

Because this was never about her in the first place, even if in some way she plays a small part. 

“What did you do?” Eunha spats as she rushes past you to go to Jungkook, not even bothering to hear you out. You sigh, gathering the last remaining buts of courage within clenched fists, and make your way out of the door, leaving Jungkook, your broken heart, and the memories you two shared behind for good. 

Not caring what he would do with those fragments in the end. 

“Jungkook!”

Eunha exclaims, immediately hooking her arms around him and hoisting him up into an embrace. “What happened? What did that bitch do?” But Jungkook doesn’t answer, thoroughly overwhelmed by the range of emotions that had just surpassed him from his conversation with you. 

Was it truly his fault? Was he the reason why things had turned out this way? There was no way right. He had treated you right, right? 

Jungkook tries to convince himself that he’s done nothing wrong, that he was perfectly innocent in this situation. But that nagging feeling deep within his mind and soul screams at him to finally realize the truth. He’s scared. He doesn’t want to know what lies beyond the bubble of happiness he had placed himself in. He doesn’t want to feel the agonizing pain he’s put himself through without realizing it. 

But not doing so would kill him more than knowing the truth ever will. 

So he opens the door to the truth and wallows in the misery of what he’s done. 

To be fair, there was some truth to Jungkook’s words. He had treated you like you were the most precious thing in the universe. And that was because, for the longest time, Jungkook did consider you highly special to him. You were his first friend, the first person he could confide his feelings in, the first person who showed him what love could be like. 

You grew up together, cried together, had your first drink together, stood on stage for the first time together. You had done just about everything together, and Jungkook cherished you more than anything in the world. 

In everything he did, he always tried to make you a part of it. Whether that meant buying your favorite drink or sending you pictures of whatever he was doing, Jungkook always wanted to help you see the world through his eyes because you deserved that much. 

Ice cream dates, sneaking out at night to have some chicken and beer, random dates at the local arcade, a stroll at the beach. You and Jungkook had practically done it all. So, where did it all fall apart? Where did Jungkook go wrong?

“Jungkook?” Eunha calls out, and Jungkook finally musters up the courage to look at Eunha, who was worriedly trying to get him to answer her. Her hold is familiar, something he’s been used to in the past two years, yet at the same time, something was missing within her warmth. An unexplainable feeling he couldn’t quite describe.

And then he realized it wasn’t you. 

Just when did he go astray? When did he start treating you like you weren’t the world to him? For sure, it wasn’t a singular moment. It was most definitely a culmination of many events that led up to his demise. But just how did it happen? 

He looks at Eunha’s worried eyes, those same eyes that he thought meant the world to him within those two years of your break up. Yet, for some reason, he just couldn’t look at them in the same way anymore. Not when there was this hollow emptiness in his heart that called out for you and only you, 

It was like a game of tug and war in his heart. He still loved Eunha; that much was for sure. But he couldn’t deny the love that he had for you as well. He remembered how Eunha was like a breath of fresh air for him. In the midst of all your nagging for him to take care of himself when he was working his ass off making new songs and dealing with management, Eunha was there to simply smile and encourage Jungkook. 

Like a fool, he got lured into Eunha’s charm and held onto it, not noticing that he was letting go of you in the process. 

His heart wails. It cries in pain and desperation of the love it has lost. Why did it have to be this way? Why was Jungkook such a fool? So consumed by his own selfishness, he abandoned the love you two shared and sought another, and now he was reaping what he had sown. 

You were gone. You would never come back. Whatever love you had between the two of you had left and died out. The world was cruel. It had given Jungkook so much hope yet took it away from him the moment he slipped up. Yet, he couldn’t really blame them. He couldn’t really blame you. 

Because he knew you had tried, he could see it in the way your eyes still cried out in pain when you see him. He could hear it in the agony of your voice as you sang passionately in your songs. He knew you did your best to pick up the fallen pieces and try to mend them back together. But all Jungkook did was rip them apart all over again. 

Life couldn’t have been any better for Jeon Jungkook until suddenly it was not. 

And he was the only one to blame. 

© yumeyooa 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform aside from a03 and tumblr or by any means is NOT permitted and will be dealt with accordingly.

➢ taglist: @wearenot7withu @nadiaislas @bbydoejk​ 

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. The trial happening right now bothers me because we get to see how Thanatos and Echo reacted to this, but Demeter and Persphone don’t know and I know why they don’t know yet. However you think that would tie some more stuff up together

It was Minthe, Thanatos and Thetis who whistle blew on Persphone. Meaning Thanatos would probably be called to trial and would have to face persphone and I would hope say something to her BUT I kinda doubt that’s gonna happen.

But the other thing to this Minthe is a plant who can’t testify. Are hades and Persphone hide the fact she’s a plant and pretend she’s missing or are they gonna say “yeah I still don’t have control over my powers but I’m queen now” HOWEVER I truly believe RS is just gonna not address these two plot points until way later.

FINALLY Eros and Psyche KNOW the last person Daphne was seen with was Apollo, did they chase after her after he got shot by the arrow? We don’t know. We don’t even know what they’re doing about Psyche. Did Eros and Psyche even see the Daphne tree? Are they going to try and sneak in to tell Persphone?

I know the plots gonna focus more on HxP secret marriage at the court trial rather than the actual consequences and the fact people are turning into greenery left and right. (It’s not Persohones Faullt Daphne is the way she is but RS needs to focus on other plot points I feel)

2. like, age gaps, height differences, and power imbalances dont always have to be bad, the issue to me is that the way rachel does it is hyper-focusing on how young, small, and child-like/unexperienced persephone is compared to the old, giant, and all powerful/mature hades is like ... yeah obvs people are going to find it creepy? how would they not?

3. i honestly cant stand the "theyre immortal gods the age gap doesnt matter!!" agreement because like??? ok??? then she could easily be 300 years old then? she shouldnt be so borderline underage then?? like the immortality aspect actually makes the age gap worse, not better??

4. i realize getting nitpicky over unimportant characters in lo having american names is a bit dumb, but it does speak to just how lazy rachel is and how little care she has for greece and its mythology. there are countless english names that are also greek, yet even that's asking too much of her. percy jackson isnt a perfect series, but even the characters (who are in america) have greek influence and meanings put into their names and characterization, something rachel doesn't even attempt to do.

5. ok but thats a good point, because rachel seems to be taking physical wounds to matter more over the mental ones, when thats not how trauma works. her writing on zeus is reflective of her writing minthe, where she confirmed she has a severe untreated mental illness and that's linked to her evilness, and thus what she should be punished for. meanwhile persephone own mental issues can be bastardized as a "yass queen" thing?? somehow?? its just bad writing all around.

6. i kinda wish lo fans would listen to their own logic and give the same leeway to the other characters. theyll scream from the rooftops that hades and persephone and hera can be awful people all they want because thats ~realistic~, meanwhile minthe and zeus and everyone else are held to such extremes they can never meet and are hated and despised for nothing in compared to hxp or hera. either hold your faves accountable or let off on hating characters who do the same as them.

7. i see a lot of lo fans excuse how everything drags as "thats how a slow burn works" and its like ... no? because most of that slow burn isnt even hxp, its rachel forcing in more plots we dont need, and when its hxp, you look at the timeline and how they act and its actually neck-breakingly fast? like if as much time had past in LO as irl time then yeah, four years is a slow burn, but its only been maybe a month in comic? so its not slow for them at all, but it's a drag for the readers.

8. See, the difference between Lo!Hades and Punderworld!Hades is that PW!Hades has so much personality, he and Persephone are literally bustling with life (even though one of them rules over a realm of dead XD) AND their interactions are so cute with their awkward attempts at flirting and failure at doing so. Persephone is still somewhat sweet and “pure” but she’s also a bit of a spitfire, she’s not easy to surrender, she has wants and dreams and that little differences makes her character likable!

We NEVER get to see anything like that with LO!Hades and Persephone, we don’t see them have these sweet interactions, these heart-fluttering moments, because there’s no base or foundation for those sorts of moments! It’s always these very out-of-character unrealistic scenes expected from a married couple, but they just met! It doesn’t feel natural, it feels forced and rushed and so slow at the same time.

Although Punderworld makes Demeter overbearing, i love her characterization i really do, waAAAY more than LO!Demeter, because we actually understand her reasons for her overprotective behavior and we get to see her in a more sympathetic light/manner in the newer chapters, we see her as more than “mean mom hates bf”

9. Daphne and Thanatos were adorable. Like, Daphne was a sweet, caring girl with genuine interest (and power/agency) and Thanatos was a shy, awkward guy who was just doing his best (and not pressuring her). They weren't perfect, but it was something! Why couldn't LO be about them?

10. What I find funny is that Minthe and Thetis have a more defined friendship than Persphone and other female characters.

Minthe and Thetis ARE TOXIC don’t get me wrong but both characters are aware of each other’s motives. Minthe knows not to trust Thetis fully and is straight with her on her opinion of Thetis. But the readers clearly know their relationship as well as the characters.

Persphone is in gray areas with most her female friends. The beginning of the story we are lead to believe Artemis and P are besties with the dress sharing and the way in P’s mind they’re holding hands with Hermès. But clearly now their relationship is a question mark and they’re both more detached than we thought. Artemis was just being nice to P letting her stay with her because they’re both in the TOGeM but they’re probably more like acquaintes at best.

Daphne and P we know they’re friends but P isn’t straight with her. Like Daphne is P’s only named friend, but did P think of her as the other overbearing nymphs? We don’t know because they’re all pink and some of them are dead. Despite being told they grew up together we don’t even know much about their relationship what do they like about each other? Does Daphne agree with Demeters parenting or P’s need to leave? When did Daphne get to move to Olympus? I feel like the plot just says “these two characters are friends “ but doesn’t elaborate much. Why did P let Daphne in her room at Hades mansion and not the other nymphs? P told Daphne that Apollo is dangerous, but it was a little too late. Also why didn’t P have her phone number when she got to Olympus? Wouldn’t she know to contact her on insta or something? P was like “omg I know no one except Hermès “ but that’s not true! Daphne! I could go more but I think we get the picture that Daphne’s plot point is having the readers be told Persphone has friends but she doesn’t but she does.

Were shown that P and Meg are getting along because P was nice to Meg, despite Meg being silently jealous of P, but what about Meg now? Is she ever gonna tell P that she’s jealous of P that she had a mad crush on Hades, even her journal? Or is that all gone now? Does Meg even matter any more or is she now here just to support HXP?

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Travis has had both boyfriends and girlfriends since high school. But when his coworkers discovered his dating history at a board game night, they told him he couldn’t be bisexual. “Bi men don’t exist,” they said. “You’re just a confused gay guy.” Travis, 34, had brought his girlfriend with him that night, but they started calling her his “roommate” after they found out he was bi.

Santiago got an even harsher reaction when he came out to his family. “‘Bisexual’ is just code for insincere gay man” is how he said one of his relatives reacted. “He didn’t use the term ‘gay man,’” 24-year-old Santiago told me, “but I won’t repeat slurs.”

In the past couple of months, I’ve heard dozens of stories like these from bisexual men who have had their sexual orientations invalidated by family members, friends, partners, and even strangers. Thomas was called a “fence-sitter” by a group of gay men at a bar. Shirodj was told that he was “just gay but not ready to come out of the closet.” Alexis had his bisexuality questioned by a lesbian teacher who he thought would be an ally. Many of these same men have been told that women are “all a little bi” or “secretly bi” but that men can only be gay or straight, nothing else.

In other words, bisexual men are like climate change: real but constantly denied.

A full 2% of men identified themselves as bisexual on a 2016 survey from the Centers for Disease Control, which means that there are at least three million bi guys in the United States alone—a number roughly equivalent to the population of Iowa. (On the same survey, 5.5% of women self-identified as bisexual, which comes out to roughly the same number of people as live in New Jersey.) The probability that an entire state’s worth of people would lie about being attracted to more than one gender is about as close to zero as you can get.

But the idea that only women can be bisexual is a persistent myth, one that has been decades in the making. And prejudice with such deep historical roots won’t disappear overnight.

👬👫👬👫

To understand why bisexual men are still being told that their sexual orientation doesn’t exist, we have to go back to the gay liberation movement of the late 1960s. That’s when Dr. H. Sharif “Herukhuti” Williams, a cultural studies scholar and co-editor of the anthology Recognize: The Voices of Bisexual Men, told me that male sexual fluidity got thrown under the bus in the name of gay rights—specifically white, upper-class gay rights.

“One of the byproducts of the gay liberation movement is this…solidifying of the [sexual] binary,” Herukhuti told me, citing the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s as a pre-Stonewall period of relatively unstigmatized sexual fluidity.

Four decades later, the gay liberation movement created a new type of man—the “modern gay man,” Herukhuti calls him—who was both “different from and similar to” the straight man. As Jillian Weiss, now the executive director of the Transgender Legal Defense Fund, wrote in a 2003 review of this same history, “gays and lesbians campaigned for acceptance by suggesting that they were ‘just like you,’ but with the single (but extremely significant exception) of [having] partners of the same sex.” Under this framework, attraction to a single gender was the unifying glue between gay men, lesbians, and straight people—bisexual people were just “confused.”

Bisexual people realized that they would have to form groups and coalitions of their own if they wanted cultural acceptance. But just as bisexual activism was gaining a foothold in the 1980s, the AIDS crisis hit, and everything changed—especially for bisexual men.

“AIDS forced certain bisexual men out [of the closet], it forced a lot of bisexual men back in, and then it killed off a number of them,” longtime bisexual activist and author Ron Suresha told me.Those deaths hindered the development of male bisexual activism at a particularly critical moment. “A number of men who would have been involved and were involved in the early years of the bi movement died—and they died early and they died quickly,” bisexual writer Mike Syzmanski recalled.

The AIDS crisis also gave rise to one of the most pernicious and persistent stereotypes about bisexual men, namely that they are the “bridge” for HIV transmission between gay men and heterosexual women. As Brian Dodge, a public health researcher at Indiana University, told me, this is a “warped notion” that has “never been substantiated by any real data.” The CDC, too, has debunked the same myth in the specific context of U.S. black communities: No, black men on the “down low” are not primarily responsible for high rates of HIV among black women.

For decades, bisexual men have been portrayed—even within the LGBT community—as secretly gay, sexually confused vectors of disease.

In 2016, bisexual men are still feeling the effects of the virus and the misperceptions around it.

“We’re still underrepresented on the boards of almost all of the national bisexual organizations,” Suresha told me, referring to the fact that women occupy most of the key leadership positions in bisexual activism. And in a new, nationally representative study of attitudes toward bisexual people, Dodge and his research team found that 43% of respondents agreed —at least somewhat—with the statement: “People should be afraid to have sex with bisexual men because of HIV/STD risks.”

For decades, bisexual men have been portrayed—even within the LGBT community—as secretly gay, sexually confused vectors of disease. Is it any wonder that they are still fighting to shed that false image today? It’s hard to convince people that you exist when they barely see you as human.

👬👫👬👫

It’s not that bisexual women have it easy. Both bisexual men and women are much less likely than gay men and lesbians to be out of the closet, with only 28% telling Pew that most of the important people in their life know about their orientation. Collectively, bisexual people also have some of the worst mental health outcomes in the LGBT community and their risk of intimate partner violence is disturbingly high. Bisexual people also face discrimination within the LGBT community while fending off accusations that their orientation excludes non-binary genders. (In response, bisexual educator Robyn Ochs defines “bisexuality” as attraction to “people of more than one sex and/or gender” rather than just to “men and women.”)

And on top of these general problems, bisexual women are routinely hypersexualized, stereotyped as “sluts,” dismissed as “experimenting,” and harassed on dating apps. Their bisexuality is reduced to a spectacle or waved away as a “phase.”

But it is still bisexual men who seem to have their very existence questioned more often.

Suresha pointed me to a 2005 New York Times article with the headline “Straight, Gay, Or Lying? Bisexuality Revisited,” the fallout of which he saw as “a disaster for bi people.” The article reported on a new study “cast[ing] doubt on whether true bisexuality exists, at least in men.” The study in question measured the genital arousal of a small sample of men and found, as the Times summarized, that “three-quarters of the [bisexual male] group had arousal patterns identical to those of gay men; the rest were indistinguishable from heterosexuals.”

“It got repeated and repeated in all sorts of media,” Suresha recalled. “People reported it in news briefs on the radio, in print, in magazines, all over the place.”

As the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force noted in its response to the article, the original study had some clear methodological limitations—only 33 self-identified bisexual men were included and participants were recruited through “gay-oriented magazines”—but the Times went ahead and reported that the research “lends support to those who have long been skeptical that bisexuality is a distinct and stable sexual orientation.”

“Show me the quest for scientific proof that heterosexuality exists. It begins and ends with even just one person saying, ‘I’m straight.’” — Amy Andre, Huffington Post

The article fueled the devious narrative that male bisexuality was just homosexuality in disguise. The lived experiences of bisexual men don’t support that narrative—and neither does science—but its power comes from prejudice, not from solid evidence.

And unsurprisingly, the 2005 study’s conclusions did not survive the test of time. In fact, one of the co-authors of that study went on to co-author a 2011 study which found that “bisexual patterns of both subjective and genital arousal” did indeed occur among men. The New York Times Magazine later devoted a feature to the push for the 2011 study, briefly acknowledging the paper’s previous poor coverage. But many in the bisexual community were unimpressed that the scientific community was still being positioned as the authority on the existence of bisexual men.

“Show me the quest for scientific proof that heterosexuality exists,” Amy Andre wrote on the Huffington Post in response to the feature. “It begins and ends with even just one person saying, ‘I’m straight.’”

👬👫👬👫

One of the most tragic things about society’s refusal to accept bisexual men is that we don’t even know why it is still so vehement. Dodge believes that his new study offers some hints—the persistent and widespread endorsement of the HIV “bridge” myth is alarming—but he told me that he would need “more qualitative and more focused research” before he could definitively state that HIV stigma is the primary factor driving negative attitudes toward bisexual men. (Research in this area is indeed sorely lacking. The last major study on the subject prior to the survey Dodge’s team conducted was published in 2002.)

In the meantime, bisexual advocates have developed plenty of compelling theories, many of them focused on the dominance of traditional masculinity. For example, Herukhuti explained that “we live in a society in which boundaries between men are policed because of patriarchy and sexism.” Men are expected to be “kings of their kingdom”—not to share their domain.

“For men to bridge those boundaries with each other—the only way that we can conceive of that is in the sense that these are ‘non-men,’” Herukhuti told me, adding that, in a patriarchal society, gay men are indeed seen as “non-men.” The refusal to accept that men can be bisexual, then, is partly a refusal to accept that someone who is bisexual can even be a man.

Many of the bisexual men I interviewed endorsed this same hypothesis. Kevin, 25, told me that “it’s seen as really unmanly to be attracted to men.” Another Kevin, 26, added that “the core concept of masculinity doesn’t leave room for anything besides extremes.” Justin, in his mid 20s, said that “men are one way and gay men are another way [but] bisexual men are this weird middle ground.”

Our society doesn’t seem to do well with more than two—especially when so many still believe that there’s only one right way to be a man.

And Michael, 28, added that bisexual men are “symbolically dangerous”—a “big interior threat to hetero masculinity” because of a shared attraction to women. It’s easy for a straight guy to differentiate himself from the modern gay man, but how can he reassure himself that he is nothing like his bisexual counterpart?

The answer is obvious: He can equate male bisexuality with homosexuality.

The logic needed to balance that equation, Herukhuti explained to me, is disturbingly close to the racist, Jim Crow-era “one-drop rule,” which designated anyone with the slightest bit of African ancestry as black for legal purposes.

“For a male to have had any kind of same-sex sexual experience, they are automatically designated as gay, based on that one-drop rule,” Herukhuti said. “And that taints them.”

To see that logic at work, look no further than the state of HIV research, much of which still groups gay and bisexual men together as MSM, or men who have sex with men. Dodge, who specializes in the area of HIV/AIDS, explained that “when a man reports sexual activity with another man, that becomes the recorded mode of transmission and there’s no data reporting about female or other partners.” Bisexual men have their identities erased—literally—from the resulting data.

“A really easy way to fix this,” Dodge added, “would be to just create a separate surveillance category.”

But when it comes to categories, our society doesn’t seem to do well with more than two—especially when so many still believe that there’s only one right way to be a man.

👬👫👬👫

The situation of bisexual men is not hopeless. Slowly but surely, they are expanding the horizons of masculinity. The silver lining in Dodge’s study, for example, is that there has been a decided “‘shift’ in attitudes toward bisexual men and women from negative to more neutral in the general population” over the last decade or so, although negative attitudes toward bisexual men were still “significantly greater” than the negativity directed at their female peers.

“Put the champagne on the ice,” Dodge joked. “We’re no longer at the very bottom of the barrel but we’ve still got a ways to go.”

That distance will likely be shortened by a rising generation that is far more tolerant of sexual fluidity than their predecessors. Respondents to Dodge’s survey who were under age 25 had more positive attitudes toward bisexuality, perhaps because so many of them openly identify as LGBTQ themselves—some as bisexual, some as pansexual, and some refusing labels altogether.

That growing acceptance is starting to be reflected in movies and on television, once forms of media that were, and still often are, notoriously hostile to bisexual men. A character named Darryl came out as bisexual with a myth-busting song on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and, as GLAAD recently noted, other shows like Shadowhunters and Black Sails are starting to do bi male representation right. The HBO comedy Insecure even made biphobia into a powerful storyline when one straight female character, Molly, shunned her love interest when he told her that he once had oral sex with a guy in a college. But other shows, like House of Cards, are still using a male character’s bisexuality as a way to accentuate his villainy.

Ultimately, bisexual men themselves will continue to be the most powerful force for changing hearts and minds. I asked each bisexual man I interviewed what he would want the world to know about his sexual orientation. Some wanted to clear up specific misconceptions but so many of them simply wanted people to acknowledge that male bisexuality is not fake.

“It’s important that bisexuality be acknowledged as real,” said Martyn, 30, adding that “there’s only so long someone can hold on to a part of themselves that seems invisible before it starts to make them doubt their own sense of self.”

“I am happy being bisexual and I’m not looking for an answer,” said Dan, 19. “I’m not trying things out, I’m not using this as a placeholder to discover my identity. This is who I am. And I love it.”

Samantha Allen is a reporter for Fusion’s Sex+Life vertical. She has a PhD in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies from Emory University and was the 2013 John Money Fellow at the Kinsey Institute. Before joining Fusion, she was a tech and health reporter for The Daily Beast.

[neonacity]

Black Daisies Chapter 5| Canzona

Preview:

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

An NCT mafia AU with OT23. 

Summary: Working for the mafia comes with many layers. There’s excitement, violence, loss, and betrayals. Yet there’s also friendship, family, loyalty, and code. The last thing it needs? Love and all the complexities it brings.

TW: violence, death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities. If you’re uncomfortable with any of these, feel free to skip. Author’s note: This is purely a work of fiction. In no way am I supporting all the illegal activities and behaviors that might be mentioned in the story nor am I implying that any member of NCT acts whichever way I may write them here--they’re all sweetiepies that need to be protected.

Chapter: 1/ First Stage

Chapter: 2/Overture

Chapter: 3/The Conductor

Chapter: 4/Crescendo

The fog of smoke from the lighted cigarette mixed with the cold breath coming from blood red lips. A woman stood in a small overhead overlooking the city, watching the shadows move across Seoul like a dark cloud bidding disaster. 

The sound of gravel crunching under boots sounded from behind her. She didn’t acknowledge it at first, however, instead dropping the nearly finished stick of nicotine between her fingers to the ground. A gust of air blew the stray stub away, its embers flaring up slightly before dying out. 

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

For a moment, it was only silence that answered her. Her dress danced in the wind, its red color looking like dried blood in the darkness. 

“You were waiting...for me.”

She finally turned around to look at the guest. Her eyes, though naturally sharp, flickered with familiarity as she took in the form of the boy in front of her. 

“I know you’re about to do something silly. I’m only here to tell you to stop whatever idea you’re having right now.”

The figure didn’t move in front of her, but the way he stared at her made the distance between them almost crackle with electricity. The man’s jaw tightened, before it finally relaxed just a little bit. 

“None of NCT is planning to participate in his game.”

The woman merely raised a perfectly shaped brow, knowing that there’s more to what he is saying.

“But I—”

“Jaehyun. Don’t be stupid.” 

“Being the Don means I can do anything I want, right? So you and I can—”

“There is no you and I,” her voice, though it sounded clipped and cold in the meeting hall earlier, had a tinge of emotion this time. Is it desperation? Frustration? Helplessness?

Jaehyun took a few steps towards the smaller figure in front of him, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep him from reaching out to her. 

“You will be free. From him. From all of this.” 

“If you win.” 

“And I will.”

“Not after you’ve betrayed your brothers. You know what things this kind of game brings. Don’t do something you’ll regret later.”

He locked his jaw again, his expression intense even under the shadows that wrapped the two of them. Jaehyun finally pulled one hand from his pocket and moved it to touch her arm. The woman took a step back, evading his touch carefully.

“I don’t need to betray anyone. We all agreed on it. Everything will carry out as usual,” he said in a tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. As she looked up at him, she saw the same desperation in his eyes—the same eyes that used to be so innocent before they were hardened by his life in the mafia. 

“And you believe them? Look at where you are now, in front of me, telling me you’ll be doing this. You think you are the only one who has a reason to go after the position among all of you?”

“I…” he trailed off, a frown settling on his forehead. “I trust them.”

“With the way you are acting, I don’t think you are worthy of their trust at all.”

Something finally snapped inside of him and he finally closed the distance between them in quick strides. He didn’t touch her, but they were close enough to each other that the cold fogs of their breath mingled in the darkness.

“This is the only chance I have—you have—to finally leave.” 

For a moment she simply looked at him, gaze unfaltering. She wanted nothing more than to reach out to his face and cradle it, tell him everything is going to be fine, but even as a flicker of emotion slipped on her gaze, she quickly let her cold mask replace it as fast as it came. 

“I don’t need you to save me. Don’t do this.” 

Before he could say, or do anything else, she finally took a step back again before turning on her heels to walk away. Jaehyun followed her with his gaze until the darkness swallowed her retreating form. 

“Yo, you okay?”

I looked up from squinting at my computer and turned towards the boy grinning in front of me. I probably looked funny, my face all scrunched up from staring at my screen, because he broke into a laugh before dropping himself into the seat next to me.

“Ya… I know Taeyong said you’ll be our first line of defense, but you haven’t peeled your butt from your seat since last night. Relax. I don’t think Cypher is going to do anything—at least not for now.”

My squint turned into a frown and I opened my mouth to shoot back a reply. Before I could say anything though, a painful throb on my left temple made me stop. I barely slept a wink last night. I leaned back on my chair with a defeated sigh. 

“You don’t know that, Yuta. Those guys… they’re nasty. If they got the same message that we all got last night, I’m 99 percent sure they’re thinking of something to sabotage us now.” 

“Mm… were you able to hack into their system though?”

“Yeah. Their firewall sucks as usual. Nothing seems out of place for now…” I trailed off as my gaze moved across the room. From upstairs, I saw Taeyong slip out of his room in his sweats, hair messy from sleep. He ducked into the fridge on the second floor, rummaging for something there. 

After the announcement from the Don, all the members decided to stay in the headquarters temporarily instead of going to their separate dorms to ‘watch each other’s backs.’ It was a good move in my opinion, but another side of me is also a little bit nervous of having everyone around all the time. Not that I don’t like having the guys as company… but I have my personal reasons to be anxious about the recent change in living arrangements. 

From upstairs, Taeyong finally managed to fish out one of the tetra boxes of banana milk from the back of the fridge. I didn’t realize I was still staring at him until his eyes finally met mine and he gave me a sleepy smile. 

I quickly turned my eyes back to Yuta only to find him giving me a Cheshire grin. 

“What?”

“I asked you if you also tried checking temporary databases Cypher might be using but you were too busy eating up breakfast with your eyes,” he snickered before throwing up his hands as if in surrender. “I get it, I get it. All of us are handsome but you only have eyes for—” 

I quickly gave him a punch on his left shoulder as I felt blood rush to my cheeks. “I—wasn’t staring!”

“Sure, you were just drooling—”

“Hey, anyone up for some drinks tonight?” 

Our childish banter temporarily stopped as Yuta and I looked up to see a very sweaty Johnny stride through the door. He was slightly panting as he approached us, the slight flush of his cheeks a sign that he just finished his morning run. 

“Why? You going to Anarchy?” Yuta asked in curiosity as he dug his hands in the front pocket of his sweater. 

“Yeah, I have to make sure the dealers are selling the new goods well. I could go alone as usual but our Mom there,” he moved his lips to point towards a still sleepy-looking Taeyong upstairs, “said it is best to go in groups for now. You know, just to be sure.” 

Yuta shrugged. “I can go with you. I’ll also ask the other guys too. I sure need a bottle or two.” 

Johnny turned to look at me. For the first time since last evening, I felt extremely conscious of how I look. I was wearing an oversized hoodie, my hair up in a sorry excuse of a bun. My glasses didn’t do me any favors, barely concealing the dark circles under my eyes.

“You want to come with us?” he asked, smiling at me. 

“Uh… I don’t think that’s a good idea. I have to—”

“She has to watch over the rats, is what she’ll say,” Yuta interjected from his seat. He turned to look at me then with a frown. “Seriously, if you’re going to act like this, you’ll never see sunlight in the next two months.”

I opened my mouth to speak but Johnny was too quick to answer for me. 

“Great. You’ll come with us then.”

“But—”

“You can work in the club. I’ll have Jungwoo bring those mini computers you both love tinkering with. You can use them to do your magic codes and spying voodoo, right?” 

I stared at him, at a loss for words. 

“Good talk. We leave at 9PM,” he flashed me another grin and turned to walk away. I was about to give another rebuttal when my eyes landed on the way his shirt stuck to the muscles of his back. I closed my mouth and sank back to my seat. 

Beside me, Yuta was grinning from ear to ear again. 

“Don’t you just love it that we’re all staying here now?”

I turned and gave him another punch on the shoulder. 

Two hundred miles away from Seoul, a man sat back on his seat as the screen in front of him turned black. The lone light of the overhead lamp in the room made eerie shadows dance across his face as he mulled over the closing words of the Don.

“You are free to do anything you like.”

His impassive face slowly broke into a smile so sinister it almost made his angelic features unrecognizable. He has no fucking idea why the idiotic man decided to start this little game of his, but he likes it nonetheless. A chance to take over the whole mafia sounded so enticing to him that it almost made him laugh, but there’s another reason that ultimately made his blood boil in excitement.

NCT. 

“Jihoon.” 

He only slightly moved his head to look at the female who cracked the door open to his room. She had the same eyes as him, though hers didn’t look tainted with madness. In fact, it look slightly worried right now as they took in his expression. 

“You called for me?” 

“Ah, yes,” he finally turned his swivel chair towards her so he could give her his full attention. He intertwined his long slender fingers on his lap and gave her a sweet smile. 

“I need you to make preparations. We’ll be going on a little field trip.”

Her questioning gaze almost made him snicker.

“Where are we going? We have a deal to close tomorrow and we can’t—”

“Oh dear, I can’t care less about that now. It can wait.” 

The girl pursed her lips. “Fine. Where are we headed to so I can make arrangements?”

The boy leaned back on his seat, head pressed against the headrest. He grinned at her, the emotion playing in his eyes making her blood run cold. 

“Seoul. We’re going to visit some friends.” 

---

A/N: Hi everyone! Decided to post this today even though it is super short. So I’ve decided to introduce Jihoon... and I would love it if I can have a face claim that I can use for him as a reference. To those who have been following the story, I’d love to know your suggestions! This will make it easier for me to develop him because then I’ll have an idea of how he looks like. <3

Chapter 6: Rapture

[river--ghost]

Parent Guidance Recommended

word count: 3,281

focus characters: Pacifica Northwest, Fiddleford H. McGucket

warnings: child neglect, implications of alcoholism, implications of infidelity, mugging, knives, threatening, generally awful people

summary: On the worst birthday she’s ever had, Pacifica finds herself seeking support from a source she’d least expect; the new owner of the once-Northwest Manor, her own former home.

Pacifica was turning fourteen on the Fourth of July. A perfect birthday. Perfect girl. Perfect family.

Her parents would throw a party. Like any Northwest party, with gorgeous, itchy lace ball gowns and impeccable etiquette, each word in every conversation spoken with flawless flow, with purposeful posture and respect-demanding mannerisms. A perfect party for perfect people, with perfect food prepared.

After claiming her designated ruby-studded chair at the dinner table, she would be shocked when her plate was revealed to her. Deep-fried Roareos. Stacked in a small sweet-powdered delicious heap in front of her, chocolately, cream-filled cookies, dipped in batter and deep-fried to perfection. Sugary. Messy. Pacifica had never had it before. How did her parents know she wanted to try it?

She turned her head to cast a quizzical look to her parents, who’d been watching her, holding each other with loving smiles directed at her. A warm feeling spread inside her like warm butter. She reached for a fork.. but hesitated, and hovered her hand over the plate instead. She casted another glance at her parents to see their reaction. No cold response was elicited so far. In fact, she could have sworn her father nodded in approval.

She delicately picked one of the cookies up with her thumb and forefinger, and raised it to her lips to nibble at it. Her senses were flooded with warm, sweet goodness. Just as amazing as she imagined. She stuffed the rest in her mouth, going so far as to lick her fingers. Her lips were coated with melted cream. She neglected the napkins beside her plate to instead lick the sugar mixture from her lips. Barbaric. But her parents didn’t seem to mind either of the actions. She thought she even heard an amused giggle from her mother.

“Sweetie, would you like your presents now or after you’re finished?” Priscilla— no, this was Mom— asked. Pacifica paused. She had a say? Were they not on a schedule? She supposed if she was given the option, she would love to open gifts while she snacked on the rest of the Roareos.

“Now, please,” the young blond girl responded. On cue, one of the butlers was beside her, placing a neatly-packaged gift box on her lap. A beautiful purple silk ribbon sat on top, holding it together. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so eager to reveal its contents.

What was inside? Some comfy clothes? Paint, perhaps? A cute animal plush that would contrast the creepy porcelain dolls in her room? The possibilities were endless.

Delightfully, she tugged at it. The box opened. As she peered inside, her excitement dissolved. The warm feeling turned to ice.

The bell. The one her father carried on his person at all times. The one that willed his command in the mansion. The one Pacifica hated. Suddenly Preston was standing over her, slowly picking the bronze item up.

Loving smile gone, replaced with a disapproving, even disgusted scowl. She shrank in her seat.

“Pacifica Elise Northwest,” he boomed. “So it’s true. You’re mingling with the common, ignoble crowds these days.”

“No!” she found herself crying out. “It’s not like that! I have to!”

“Have to what? Work a lowly job as a waitress in that slobbish cesspit? At that- that disgusting, sorry excuse for a dining destination? THAT’S NOT ACCEPTABLE EVER. How can you call yourself a Northwest? How can you call yourself our daughter?”

The very first thought she woke up to was that it was too good to be real.

Tangled in her sheets, warm tears trickling down her cheeks. She sniffled and quickly wiped them away before slipping out of bed.

The house was dark. Silent. The clock on the wall read 7:52. Her parents’ bedroom was empty as she passed. It smelled of wine. They would not be back for a while. Pacifica found herself releasing a sigh, her tension easing a little, even if that meant she’d be spending her birthday alone for the very first time. She leaned against the doorframe and closed her eyes, trying to recall the good part of the dream, trying to revive the taste of the sugary treat, but it was gone. Soured by the unreality of it. All it was doing was making her hungry belly ache.

When checking the refrigerator, cabinets and pantry and coming to the realization that all that was left was a loaf of bread, a half-empty tube of Bringles and a couple dinner kits. No breakfast food. Not even a single egg. Not even leftovers. Something like despair and disappointment blossomed inside her. She would have to eat at the diner again…

She snagged her wallet from the counter only to find her twenty had disappeared, leaving only a couple measly ones and fives and whatever coins were loose inside. She felt the tears building a little again and slapped the wallet shut to try to stifle them. There was a time she had nearly everything, but now after Weirdmaggedon, she couldn’t even trust that her own hard-earned cash wouldn’t be snagged if left around her own greedy birthgivers. Her strength was being sapped by the will not to burst into a sobbing fit. There was enough in there to cover breakfast at work when she got to Greasy’s, at least.

With her belly still growling, she changed out of her nightwear, threw on her apron and a pair of aviators and began the walk to work.

The day was a bright one, sunny and a little breezy. A pleasant temperature. It did not reflect how Pacifica felt. Despite the summer weather, she pulled her scarf over her head, casting shade over her face. The neighborhood streets were mostly void of people, every house gated off. Just because they lost the mansion did not mean the Northwests were living in squalor, but her spending money was strictly monitored. Her parents now enforced that any money she spent, she’d have to earn. A fourteen year old. A child. Just so her birthgivers could ensure a few extra dollars in their account.

Pacifica couldn’t help but feel the fanciness of the neighborhood was almost deceitful. Her own household was a prime example. Her own rumbling tummy was a prime example. She wondered if there were others who lived in these houses that had similar problems as hers. Unlikely here.. however there were definitely others, people who’d been pushed to extremes just to get by.

Whether that was the reason behind why Pacifica soon found herself being followed halfway through the trip, she didn’t know. The feeling of being watched intensified by the minute, and glances into the reflections of shop windows told her there was a person. They refused to let up for at least a couple of blocks, the likelihood that they were just going the same direction by chance was steadily decreasing. They probably saw her leaving the wealthier neighborhood. The young girl picked up her pace. It did her no good.

The next moments were a blur. Her arm was snatched. When she struggled, a slice put a stop to it. Her arm began to bleed. Something sharp pressed to her throat, stiffening every muscle in her body. Vulgar language was hurled at her, demanding cooperation before her purse was yanked from her shoulder, and she was thrown to the curb. She was left winded, bruised, panicked and hyperventilating. She struggled for her breath back.

Mugged. She’d been mugged for the few measly dollars she had on her. And the fact that her first thought after all that was concern for what her parents would think that she let those precious dollars be nicked in the first place.. it only increased her distraught. Her breaths hastened more and more, and she didn’t realize her tears had finally started to flow until she was already sprinting down the street, her vision muddled. Every step felt like thunder to her ears. Home. She just wanted to go home. Maybe she couldn’t be herself as much, and maybe she was always busy, under constant supervision. But at least there was stability. At least there was certainty of the future. At least it was comfortable, at least there was always food on the table, breakfast, lunch and dinner. At least her father never stumbled around reeking of alcohol while only Lord knew where her mother was. Maybe her parents weren’t the best to other people but at least she could be certain they were true to each other. At least she could pretend everything was fine.

Pacifica wasn’t sure how far she’d gone. She was sweaty, she felt gross and sticky. Her legs were sore, threatening to give out if she went any further. She was still bleeding. She ached everywhere. But she’d reached her destination. She stood at the bottom of a familiar, long driveway, and at the top, sitting on a large hill, towering over the town stood the proud family mansion. Waves of nostalgia and sorrow crashed over her. Everything felt so gross. Every memory tainted by the knowledge of her parents’ true nature. She couldn’t even speak to anyone, not even her parents. Who would listen to a rich brat whine about how she used to be richer? Certainly not any of the townsfolk.

She found herself staring at the manor for a while, not entirely sure what to do.

“...What am I doing here…?” Pacifica whispered, sniffling and reaching for the tissues she kept in her purse, only to be hit with the whirlwind of events that had just happened again. Her arm stung. She could barely hold herself upright. She felt so… so tired. She meekly wiped her nose on her sleeve, and started to turn around when suddenly she bumped into someone.

“Wo-ah there, kiddo, careful, better watch where ya—” a cheerful voice piped, before cutting itself off when the sight of Pacifica in her disheveled state registered. “Huh? Hey.. Ah’ know you.”

Color drained from Pacifica’s cheeks. This guy again.. Why was he here? She quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks as she tried a witty remark, but — “Y-y-ea-h, well-, wh-o w-ou-uldn’-t-” — ultimately failing when her quivering body wouldn’t stop heaving sobs. Again she sniffled. Disgusting. In front of the hillbilly too.

McGucket’s face morphed into something like sympathy. He kneeled down to her height. “Ah- hey, what’s goin’ on kiddo? Are ya alright?”

Pacifica parted her lips. She wanted to say yes. Her instincts screamed at her to say yes. She could practically hear her birthgivers demanding her to say yes. She had to be perfect. She had to be flawless. She had to be stoic, proud, happy, for her family.

But that’s not what came out.

“n-NO!” she cried, her knees finally buckling as if the years of abuse weighing down on her shoulders finally came crashing down on top of her. Her face buried in her hands, sobbing violently into them. She wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay. Wails and cries escaped. She couldn’t stop the tears anymore. She was in so much pain, she was so alone. The sobs wouldn’t stop. The raging storm of emotion only continued to demolish her walls, clawing at her pride and self esteem. Everything she pretended to be crashed and burned at that moment.

Fiddleford had been a little stunned by the sudden breakdown, but he started to piece the situation together from the bits and pieces the poor girl was babbling. He didn’t get up and walk away like Pacifica was expecting him to. He stayed put, even placed his hand on her shoulder to try to console her. When she didn’t flinch away from him, the old man started rubbing circles on her back as she cried and cried. Fiddleford never was the best at comfort.. though he could only imagine how long this outburst had been bottled up, and he thought it best that Pacifica let it all out before trying to say anything.

It was a while before Pacifica’s sobs began to calm enough to allow her to speak in more coherent sentences. The story became clearer. She spoke about how her parents had mistreated her, like she was an accessory rather than a human being, a literal child. How things had been getting worse this past year since they were forced to move due to her father’s irresponsible stock market decisions during Weirdmaggedon, to preserve what fortune they had left. How she felt more at home at the diner than she ever did at her own residence. How she hardly saw her parents anymore. How everything had changed for the worst. The way her parents had become about money, even how they scolded her for ‘nagging’ about her birthday the previous day, when it had been the first time she brought it up in half a year. It all hurt terribly to speak of but Pacifica couldn’t help but notice the sudden weightless feeling after getting everything out. She was surprised to find Old Man McGucket was still listening.

“Y’know,” he spoke finally, “Ah knew a fella once who thought ‘e had everythin’ before ‘e lost it all too. ‘Should’a been there for ‘im like he needed.”

Pacifica was quiet for a moment. “..W..ho was he?”

Fiddleford only waved his hand. “Ol’ college buddy. Doin’ mighty fine these days. Now whaddya say we get off’a the street an’ patch up that lil’ ol’ scratch a’ yours inside?”

It tooka moment to register the question through his southern accent, but when she did, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “..I- inside..?”

Inside the mansion. Pacifica almost couldn’t believe it. Old Man McGucket was the one that bought the Northwest Manor. She wondered how on earth a former homeless man was possibly able to afford such a grand purchase, until peeks into a couple rooms along the hallway that had been filled with computers and strange machinery told her she didn’t know nearly as much about McGucket as she previously thought.

It was so strange walking through the hallways again. Everything was the same, but different. Was the grand rustic architecture and furniture always so beautiful? And… were those.. raccoons she was spotting out of the corner of her eyes?

McGucket led her to a room with a couch- a familiar silver-themed room with a certain carpet pattern. It looked nearly the same, except for the banjo leaning against the couch’s armrest, and maybe a few more stains than its previous flawless condition “for guests- that is, for guests to look at”. Despite her emotional state, she found herself smiling at the memory of her adventures with Dipper Pines, trying to bust that ghost… until she recalled the punishment her parents had made for her after that was all over. She began to feel a little sick. Her gaze dropped to the floor as McGucket trudged into the room, plopped onto the couch and patted the cushions beside him. Hesitantly, she followed him and did as gestured. It was.. weird to be back. She wiped her eyes again.

“How’d that’a happen?”

“..What?” the question hit her like a slap.

“The cut.” He gestured to the bleeding injury with a bandaged hand.

“...Oh.” Again, her gaze dropped. Her eyes began to mist again before she shut them. “..I-I.. I was.. um.. mugged on the way here… They stole my favorite purse…” Shame burned at her belly. She didn’t see any sign of judgement in McGucket’s reaction, though. He didn’t ask why she let that happen, or why she wasn’t responsible enough to bring someone with her. There was only concern for her.

“Oh.. ‘Ahm sorry that’a happened. Gravity Falls’s usually safe.. er- ah..” The old man scratched the back of his head. “‘least, it’s not the people ya gotta usually worry ‘bout.”

“Heh.. yeah..” Shrugging, the old man pulled out a full-blown first aid kid, temporarily baffling Pacifica for a moment. “Wai- were you just carrying that—?”

The question went without a response as McGucket went straight to disinfecting the cut. “‘Doesn’t look terri-bubly deep,” he piped. “Should’a stopped bleeding by now but we’ll patch it up ta’ keep it safe while it’s a-healin’.”

“Wait.. how do you know how to do this..?” Pacifica asked, furrowing her eyebrows a little. The old man gave her a cheery grin.

“Well, ‘gotta pick up somethin’ ‘bout it after livin’ in the dump buildin’ evil whatsits and thingamajigs outta rusty metal for a couple’a decades.”

..Oh. Well, that would make sense, she supposed.. Briefly, the question as to why he was being so nice to her after the way she and her family treated him crossed her mind. She wondered if that friend he mentioned had something to do with it… Suddenly she found herself wishing she’d paid closer attention to the details of the relationships between the other people involved in the zodiac. She guessed it could be that hotter Mr. Pines (or.. Dr. Pines?), she recalled seeing some kind of emotional exchange between him and McGucket during Weirdmaggedon.

Occupied with her thoughts, she hardly realized McGucket had completely finished with the bandage until he announced it.

“Done!” he cheered, stuffing the first aid kit back into the oblivion from which it came. Weird. More Gravity Falls weirdness. “...Thanks.”

“Anytime, sweetie. Y’always got’a listenin’ ear right here if ya’ need it.”

Pacifica gave him a small, grateful smile. The old man would never know what that meant to her.

“I.. I don’t know..” she sighed softly. “Today was just… awful… It’s the first birthday I’ll be spending alone, and I guess it’s… getting to me…”

“Yer birthday’s today?? Ah, Ah’m sorry, sugerbun,” McGucket spoke. “Awful break, goin’ through somethin’ like a’this on’a birthday mornin’. Say, ya always got a place right ‘ere if ya need. Plenty a’ empty bedrooms.”

Pacifica raised her head. “...R...Really..?”

McGucket beamed. “Why sure! Ya remind me a’ my lil’ Tator Tot, Ah’ miss ‘em somethin’ terrible. It gets a lil’ lonely in this ‘ere big ol’ mansion sometimes and ah wouldn’t mind a visit from some young folk from a’time ta’ time.”

She could… she could visit. Whenever she wanted? Her old home, without her parents around. McGucket was that okay with her? Even going so far as to compare her to (presumably) his own kid? That was… incredible. Before thinking it through, she threw her arms around the old man, chorusing her ‘thank you’s with a bubble of laughter. Though startled, Fiddleford slowly returned the hug with a warm smile.

He stank quite a bit. Pacifica recoiled a little at the realization of what she was doing. Ew. What would people think of her if they caught her doing something so unthinkable? Willingly embracing this stinky old man who…. gave incredible hugs.. Her concern suddenly dissolved. In its stead, a certain safety appeared, and she melted into it a little more. It was the same feeling she craved in her dreams. Dirt didn’t matter at all anymore. The feeling of a parental embrace shielding her from the unpleasantness of the world was all she could bring herself to care about at that moment. It felt so warm… Before she knew it, she was tearing up again.

“...Thank you, McGucket..”

“Heheh, anytime, sugarbun. Say, since it is yer birthday, whaddya say we hit th’ town an’ find somethin’ ta’ cheer ya up?”

Pacifica wiped her eyes with her palm. What an offer... To think a year ago she would never had even considered walking around with the old kook as a possible option, but.. She found herself looking forward to it. “I… I would love that.”

[Part 1 of ??? possibly 2??]

[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?”

[kekoma]

— daichi as your boyfriend.

when you’re down, think of daichi. hope you enjoy.

could possibly write a whole book series this man.

hands down, he’s one of the many original blueprints when it comes to the perfect boyfriend.

he’s really the type of guy you could bring home to the family and they love him.

it’s to the point that your family would start inviting him to family events and won’t even call/text you about it since they know that he’ll end up telling you about it.

daichi really has that type of POWER.

can’t be convinced or argue he doesn’t.

it’s just something about him that makes him extremely lovable and easy to approach.

however— dating him is almost like a dream or one of those love k-dramas.

and you know what, daichi will even say the minute he saw you~ it was love at first sight.

but getting back on track... he’s the type of boyfriend who’s super caring and respectful (but we’ve been knew)

already he remembers the type of things you don’t like and like, making sure he never slips up to cause any discomfort.

the relationship means a lot to him so of course he’s keeping a close watch and staying on the ‘good boyfriend’ list.

since he’s like this— arguments between you two aren’t common.

something bad like an exchange of extremely hurtful words or cheating must happen to reach an argument.

although if none of those two things happen and one does occur suddenly then daichi would rather sit down to talk about it. he won’t just let that type of tension shimmer due to the fear it could get worse.

plus this cutie can’t stay mad or avoid you for long.

definitely the type you can vent to without judgement and he actually does give good advice while comforting you.

also the type of boyfriend that helps you when it comes to your studies but occasionally he gets a little stern (can’t always be soft his little love)

moving on, he seems like the type that would still do romantic things as if he’s still trying to win your heart (as if he’s still in the crush phase)

so he’ll write love letters and place them in your locker or bag.

and if it ends up in your locker then candy is with it as well.

he’ll buy you flowers and a stuffed animal during special occasions and make others jealous that they can’t have a relationship like yours.

oh! daichi will also put cute encouraging notes with your favorite snacks in your bag when it comes to any big test coming up or just randomly.

‘never assume you won’t succeed without giving it your all at first and believing yourself. i know you’ll do amazing bubs :)’ the pink little note would read while on top of your favorite snack.

almost anything you find romantic, he does it.

it’s the thought of wanting you to know how much he cherishes and loves you— also wants you to keep in mind that he’s really your number one supporter.

boyfriend daichi = personal cheerleader and number one fan. we stan.

now i could be wrong but he does seems like the type to create different playlist for every single mood you may have.

woke up one day feeling super insecure? then all you have to do is go find the playlist titled ‘you’re beautiful to me :)’ with a small description attached; “when my bubs can’t comprehend that they’re fine as hell and i would gladly risk my life to see their beauty daily.”

you know~ cute things <3

moving on— pda.

daichi is down for any type as long as its nothing rated 18+ that could get you two in trouble when it comes to the public.

kissing? checked. hugging? checked. holding hands? checked? him opening his jacket just to press you against him so he could zip it up afterwards and hold you that way because you mentioned you’re cold? honey yeah that box is checked off multiple times.

literally gives the best hugs ever— that’s just pure facts so if you love them then he loves them too.

although his personal favorite type of skinship with you would be kissing your forehead and wrapping his arm around you (either on your shoulders or hips if that makes sense) 

vv affectionate boyfriend but will cut down on it if you ever asked him to.

now in private... the ball park is slightly different there.

still can get away with the same pda that’s done in public but we’re now focusing on the cuddling concept.

daichi loves it due to liking the feeling of your head laying on his chest while he traces random shapes or letters on your body.

something about it makes him super soft than normal.

truly not much to cover so it’s on to nicknames. 

top ones are: baby, honey, sweetheart and munchkin. occasionally he’ll call you his star whenever you attend his games since he considers you his lucky star.

heh dates. they’re actually moderate (not too much but not too little) and daichi makes it known that if you have a place in mind then don’t hesitate to say it. 

so dates are basically anything and everything situation <3

probably gonna end it but there’s definitely so much to daichi that makes you fall in love with him all over again. literally an amazing boyfriend~ 10/10 bunny approved.

© all content belongs to kekoma 2020. do not repost, modify or translate.

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

part 2

masterlist

Hello darlings.... I did a thing. I did not intend to update this, in fact I was going to do SWGD updates or do a sequel to Baby Mine, but here we are. It’s a little short, but enjoy!--- chaotic puff.

Y/N was exhausted both mentally and physically. Pushing Namjoon away didn’t work. The man was like an octopus. Take away one arm, and another takes its place. She just didn’t have the energy to keep him at bay. It was easier just to let him wrap himself around her. It wasn’t as though she could run. Where could she hide on a plane? And she doubted very much that any of the attendants or Jin would help her either. She was in a heap of trouble. Even though Namjoon promised no repercussions, she knew he had to have something else in mind. Namjoon was never one to let such a slight go unpunished. 

The flight left her even more exhausted, and she had to be begrudgingly grateful for Namjoon’s foreplaning. The pajamas and the bed were extremely comfortable, much more so than her dress would have been or even any of the cushy seats outside of the private bedroom. Namjoon was also extremely attentive to even the slightest sign of discomfort from her. The attention to detail made the flight slightly more bearable even if there was a constant niggling anxiety over the health of her baby. She knew full well she wasn’t supposed to be flying in her third trimester, but it wasn’t as though Namjoon was giving her a choice. He never gave her a choice.

He did allow her her rest, and that was a small mercy. He didn’t push her to talk. He even encouraged her to rest knowing how taxing the journey was going to be on her and the baby. She’d slept for a good while, only waking up to allow Jin and the labor and delivery nurse to check her over and when Namjoon had had dinner delivered to them. He’d seemed apologetic for waking her up, but according to him, it was important to keep her strength up, for the baby, and she wasn’t going to tell him that skipping one meal probably wasn’t going to hurt either of them. It just wasn’t worth the argument.  

She cradled her stomach with one hand as she thought of what was waiting for them in Korea. Namjoon would never let her out of the house again. There was little doubt of that, but what would that mean for the baby? Her poor little fútbol player. Her miracle. She never wanted this for any child of hers. Children had always been so iffy for her. Her last two pregnancies had been disastrous. She had been constantly worried over the health of the baby. It was part of the reason that she and Mark had settled in Italy. She was worried about losing the little one, worried how the stress of constant running would affect them both. 

She should have kept moving. She should have allowed Mark to bring them both to somewhere that Namjoon never would have found them, some small island in the middle of the ocean, or deep in some forgotten countryside. It was too late for what ifs though, far too late. There would be no escape for her, but she prayed that there could be one for Mark however slim the possibility was. 

A small comfort in all of this was that her sister was safe. She’d been so careful to never let Namjoon know about her sister. Iya and Chester would be safe at home living their lives free from the mess that she had gotten herself into. It pained her more than anything that she would never see Iyla again, but it was worth it to keep her sister safe even if she couldn’t do the same for herself or her baby. Iyla was safe. By some minor miracle, she was safe.

She groaned shifting as the baby sent a harsh kick to her kidneys. Namjoon instantly perked up hovering over her worriedly. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked eyes flitting over her form and hands hovering over her belly unsure of what to do or what was wrong. He’d been hovering the whole flight.  

“I’m fine.” She hissed rubbing soft circles on her belly silently asking her little one to calm down. Every time the baby kicked too harshly, Namjoon began to fret over her. She didn’t need any fretting. She needed some peace and to not be several thousand miles in the air, maybe then she could relax. The estate was a prison, but it was at least a familiar and an exceedingly comfortable one. 

“Is it the baby?” He asked placing his hand over hers his gaze intently focused on her belly. “Should I get Jin?”

“They’re just kicking.” She groaned sinking back into the pillows again. “They’ll settle down soon enough. They’re just a little active right now.” 

Namjoon’s eyes flickered to the monitor nervously. It was an odd expression on him. She didn’t think that she’d ever seen him truly nervous before. “Are you sure? I can get him.” 

She nodded tiredly, adjusting herself so that she was half lying down with a pillow supporting her belly and another stuck between her legs. It was one of the few ways she could get comfortable now that her belly was so large. Mark had always made sure that she was settled comfortably. 

She could remember the first night her growing belly had caused her too much discomfort to sleep well. He’d come back the next day with a variety of new pillows and a heap of advice from the nonnas of the village. She rarely had to ask Mark to do things. He went above and beyond without ever saying a word about it. If he saw a problem, he fixed it. It was one of the things that she loved about him. He had made the adjustment to motherhood easier. He had been a pillar for her even though he was grieving as well. They’d leaned on each other to get through the worst of it, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to finish this pregnancy without him. She wasn’t supposed to go through the last of it without him.

He’d treated her and her baby as though they were family, as though they were his own. He’d been there for everything, the first flutters of movement, the first kicks that he could actually feel. He’d been there for every prediction that the nonnas gave her about the baby, and the nonna did love to predict and give advice. Some were convinced it was a boy because of how the baby was sitting. Others swore she was having a girl. She and Mark didn’t care though. All they wanted was a healthy baby. 

Mark wouldn’t be there for the most important part though, and that killed her. He was supposed to be there. He was supposed to hold her hand and tell her it was alright as she brought their baby into the world. It was their baby, not Namjoon’s, never Namjoon’s. She couldn’t let Namjoon know that though. It would be detrimental for both herself and for Mark. She’d have to readjust her thinking to play into Namjoon’s ego. Unfortunately he was the most important person at the moment. All of their lives were in his hands, and if she didn’t cater to his whims, they would all be in danger. 

“I should get Jin.” Namjoon murmured even as he wrapped himself around her showing no sign of leaving her to call for the doctor.

“I’m fine.” She hissed again but made no move to make him remove himself from her. It was too much effort when he would just wrap himself around her again.

“You should get some more rest.” He murmured into her hair. “We have a few more hours until we land.”

Rest. Both Jin and Namjoon had been henpecking her telling her to rest, but how could she given the circumstances? There was too much uncertainty, too much to worry about. Mark would have told her not to worry. Worry was bad for baby and bad for momma, but Mark wasn’t here.

If there was one thing she could take comfort it, it was the fact that she doubted Namjoon would hurt her while she was pregnant, and she very much doubted that he would hurt the baby. Namjoon was far too prepared and fussy not to be concerned over both her health and the baby’s. She wouldn’t be surprised if he already had everything ready for them at the estate, or at least as ready as he could be without knowing the baby’s gender. But gender didn’t matter so much with newborns. They outgrew clothes so quickly that it was better just to go with neutral things that could be reused for any other kids that came along.

Now that was a thought. Would she have other children? How many did Namjoon want? It wasn’t something they’d ever really discussed. It wasn’t something she’d ever really wanted to discuss with him, but kids were upon them whether she liked it or not. If the baby was a boy, he’d have his heir, and maybe they would be done. If it was a girl, there would definitely be more children in their future if only for the sake of succession.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like kids. She adored them, but she wasn’t so sure of having Namjoon as the father. She didn’t want him as a husband much less something as permanently binding as the father of her children.

She’d dared to dream in that little Italian village of a life, a life with Mark. Their little house would be filled with life and laughter. There would be siblings for her current little one running around. It would have been quiet, nice. It would have been almost everything she could have ever wanted, but daring to hope was foolish, especially with the baggage hanging over both of their heads, and Namjoon’s arrival proved that. And with his arrival, her little fantasy life drifted away like so many other dreams.

“I’m sorry, jagi.” He murmured into her hair. Stunned to hear an apology, she waited, keeping silent to see if he would elaborate. “I know flying has to be uncomfortable for you right now, but it’s the fastest way home.”

Of course that was what he was sorry for. He was sorry that she and the baby were uncomfortable, but there was no remorse for once more uprooting her from her life.

“It’ll be over soon.” She muttered under her breath nuzzling into the wall of pillows that kept her and Namjoon propped up. They had to be either Namjoon or Jin’s doing. There was no way that the plane regularly had such an absurd amount of pillows.

“Just a few more hours.” He assured his long fingers intertwining themselves with hers over her belly. “And then we’ll be home.”

part 3

[arhvste]

can you maybe do some hcs w kuroo tsukishima and oikawa when their s/o is being bullied by people from school?

love me some savage haikyuu boys 😈

-

KUROO, TSUKISHIMA AND OIKAWA REACTING TO THEIR S/O BEING BULLIED

-

KUROO

kuroo is a perspective little shit 

he analysis’ anything and everything 

he isn’t called the scheming captain for nothing 

so when he notice’s his s/o feeling down or acting different from normal he will find out what’s bothering them

he’ll ask you first

and if you’re not willing to give clear answers he’ll just find out himself

he doesn't want to overstep privacy boundaries

but if you’re being upset by something he feels like it’s his duty as your boyfriend to sort it out

so one day you’re waiting for him after practice

and you both usually meet outside the gym doors to talk home together

however

this time you’ve unfortunately encountered the people who have been making school life unbearable for you

“look its stupid little y/n!”

“why are you still here? waiting for your boyfriend like some sort of lost dog?”

“i don’t know how he puts up with you”

“so clingy and desperate for support i feel so bad for him”

they have you cornered and you’re outnumbered by far 

kuroo has been waiting outside the gym doors for 5 minutes now and is confused 

you’re never ever late 

so he wanders around looking for you since you aren't answering your phone 

now kuroo is annoying but he isn’t stupid

he’s had a hunch about what’s been bothering you lately

he’s noticed a few kids often hang behind class until you leave and they seem to surround you when you’re trying to leave your classroom

he never intervened because he didn’t want to wrongly accuse them of harassing you in case you were friends with them

but you still didn’t look particularly thrilled when you got away from them

so kuroo hears some familiar voices and he heads straight over to them

“don’t cry y/n you don't want to look even more ugly than you already do”

“oh look y/n’s crying they can't even handle a few jokes”

“your boyfriend might even dump you when he sees you”

“the only ones who need dumping are all of you into a pit of fire 🥰”

there stands the 6′2, muscular built, powerhouse school national level volleyball captain with the coldest look he’s ever had

the kids surrounding you are dead silent

“what? nobodies got anything to say now? i thought we were all just laughing and joking with each other so why’d we stop now?”

kuroos eyes soften as soon as they meet yours 

he’s grabbed your hand and pulled you tightly into his chest

“i don't think much of a warning needs to be made but let me make this clear just this once because i don't like having to remind people things, come near her, approach, talk about or to her again and you’re going to have a personal problem with me and my team. got it?”

lmfao the little bitches nod trembling and run 🏃🏽‍♀️

kuroo is such a science nerd who makes awful jokes and has the worlds most obnoxious laugh 

but he’s also a man and a captain and sometimes it’s easy to forget that

he can pick and choose when and what he wants to be perceived as

and right then he has chosen to show you who he really can be 

“why didn’t you tell me angel?”

“i didn’t want to have to bother you”

“oh baby you’re never ever a bother to me. im sorry i couldn't help sooner please never hesitate to tell me if anything like this happens again”

kuroo’s warning sticks with your bullies and they don't bother you anymore

the volleyball team and coach nekomata are throwing dirty ass looks at them too nfjdsbfjs

all in all, kuroo just wants you to know he is there to support you

and he’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and comfortable 

-

TSUKISHIMA

lmao all i’ve got to say to your bullies is good luck

because if tuski finds out you’ve been bullying his s/o

you’re done for 

this boy has no mercy

he doesn't even need to physically fight

his words can cut deeper than any knife and he knows it 

so when he notices you've been feeling more anxious around school and clinging to him a little more

he grows sus

he’s immediately closing in on who is bothering you and what insults he wants to throw at them

tuski has an exam and it runs a little into lunch 

he told you that if it runs over than you can just wait by your classroom and he’d come and get you 

however while you’re waiting you have a run in with the students who have been giving you a hard time 

just like tuski you’re a student who thrives in academics 

so a few of your classmates aren't particularly fond of your constant reign of lead in your class

“ew y/n you gross weirdo why are you here?”

“they’re probably waiting for their boyfriend to come and pick them up”

“such an entitled little shit, waiting to be collected who do you think you are”

so far you’d done pretty well ignoring them 

but that was in an environment with many other students who’d call your bullies out if they were to step out of line in class

right now you’re an easy target though

nobody to protect you

well that’s what you thought anyway

you feel your bag get snatched from your hands and thrown to the ground 

the bullies are kicking your stuff around laughing while you have no choice but to watch is despair 

that's until one of them is tripped up and lands face flat onto the ground

“you think i should kick them around and see if they can take it?”

tuski is standing there with a dark smile on his face

“so brave of you to pick on my y/n when you all have the audacity to look the way you do and don't even get me started on your academics”

“if i were you'd just apologise to your parents now because realistically what are you all going to do in your lives? success doesn't really look like it fits any of you to be honest”

the other students don't even know what to say

they can't exactly say anything

tsukishima is known to have a sharp tongue with an endless flow of direct insults 

“it’d be a shame if a teacher were to find out about this wouldn't it. im thinking suspension maybe? perhaps you should all call your parents up right now and apologise for your inevitable suspension”

the bullies look at each other nervously

he couldn’t be serious right

“im waiting”

these kids whip out their phones and are calling their confused parents trying to explain about how they could be suspended

“now off you all go, get out of my sight and don't you dare come near her again”

they be sprinting out the hallways 

“you weren’t actually gonna get them suspended were you?”

“it was depending on how fast they called their parents really”

tsukishima is on the floor helping you gather you trashed things

“im annoyed you didn't tell me. don't keep things like this from me yeah? cause not only am i here for you but, i get a kick out of it to. besides, im the only one who gets to be playfully mean to you.”

and he’ll make sure to keep a closer eye on you and keep you around him for a little longer just till he’s certain you’ve been left alone

OIKAWA

fangirls 

the absolute bane of his existence 

oikawa appreciated the support but it was overbearing sometimes 

especially when he just wants to spend time with his precious y/n-chan

in front of him, his fangirls would be so polite and supportive 

“you and y/n look so good together”

“i hope you’re treating them well”

“oikawa is is lucky”

but behind his back these girls were nothing but vicious and spiteful towards you 

you knew you’d have to deal with his fangirls at some point 

you’d decided to keep your relationship hidden for the first few months until oikawa suggested going public and you felt like you couldn’t say no

you’d hear comments as you walked through the halls

classes would’ve been a nightmare if iwaizumi wasn’t in your class

he knew you were struggling with oikawa’s fangirls but you pleaded him not to say anything to his best friend 

iwaizumi didn't exactly want to keep this from oikawa but he also didn't want to go against your wishes 

you compromised instead and told iwaizumi about everything the fangirls put you through and sometimes he’d even take it lightly into his own hand 

despite the fact you had oikawa’s best friend looking out for you, this was also a reason the bullying got worse

“you think you can get iwaizumi to back you up now? you want the whole team or what?”

yes

“stop being so overdramatic oikawa shouldn’t have to put up with someone as fragile as you”

“he can do so much better did you manifest or do witchcraft to get him to date you?”

the comments had become so common to you they started to have no effect

you slowly became more and more emotionally unavailable and this was something oikawa had started to pick up on

“y/n-chan you’ve stopped smiling at me so much. have i upset you?”

at first he’d think he did something wrong and he’d desperatly rack his brain for anything he could’ve done to offend you

“no you haven’t tooru i’ve just been tired lately”

you’d lie and give him a small fake smile 

but oikawa has given enough fake smiles in his life and is more than capable of being able to tell a real smile to a fake one

like kuroo though, he wouldn’t want to push any privacy boundaries and can only hope you’d open up to him soon

it doesn’t mean he’s not going to be watching you even closer now

he’ll ask iwaizumi whether he’s seen a change in your behaviour 

iwaizumi has finally decided this has gone too far

“idiot do you not see it’s your shitty fangirls that are making them miserable?”

“my fangirls?”

“yes your fangirls. y/n can’t catch a break with them around they’re really nasty to her and i don’t know how it’s taken you so long to see”

now that oikawa thinks about it you do cling to him a little tighter when they’re around

you don’t thank them for their ‘compliments’ about your relationship with the setter

you go extremely quiet and anxious when they’re around

oikawa had just thought it was nerves from sudden attention

he didn’t realise they had been secretly harassing you 

so oikawa goes to wait outside your locker when the day ends

“tooru shouldn't you be at practice?”

“come with me” he says sternly but he’s giving you a reassuring look as he grips your hand securely in his larger one

he walks you quickly through the halls and round to the entrance of the gym where his fangirls are usually waiting for practice to start

“oikawa-san! why aren’t you in uniform? is practice cancelled?”

“oh y/n is here... that's cute”

oikawa is beyond livid just from their presence alone

they even had the nerve to say your name?

“you know what isn’t fucking cute though? your disgusting behaviour”

the fangirls are look between each other innocently

“what do you mean oikawa-san?”

“don’t play oblivious with me you bitches! what was going through your heads when you all thought it was okay to harass MY y/n-chan?!”

the girls are silent now

oikawa is usually so charming and relaxed 

nobody sees him worked up outside the court

“there’s a reason none of you have even been allowed to be considered to have the chance to get to know me, you’re all fake. every single one of you. i hate fake people more than anything. this behaviour is gross i want none of you associated with me get out of here and if i hear one more thing about anyone upsetting y/n hell will be broken loose and that won’t just be from me.”

oikawa did not stutter 😌

king

the girls leave immediately 

“i think you’ve just lost yourself your whole fan club”

“oh y/n they were never fans if they have the nerve to upset someone they know i love. why didn’t you tell me i would’ve said something sooner”

“i just didn't want to upset you about your fans”

“you’re always going to be the first priority to me always if they or anyone else ever bothers you again, promise you’ll tell me straight away?”

“promise.”

after that he’ll take you to sit on the bench on the side of the court so you can watch him play and he can keep an eye on you

yeah oikawa may seem like a carefree people pleaser

but if you’re upsetting his s/o, you’ll be experiencing the side he tries to keep under control and he won’t be afraid to let loose.

-

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

[jaeminscoffee]

Cordolium

Cordolium- Heartfelt sorrow, heartache (n.)

Pairing- Lee Jeno x reader

Genre- Fluff for starters, angst for main course.

Word count- 1.78k

Warnings- Y/n’s led on by Jeno. Or she just misinterpreted his actions, also horribly written ✌

Summary- Who’d known one picture was all it would take to break your heart.

Having gotten into your dream university called for leaving your comfort house and moving into a completely foreign environment, where everyone would be strangers unlike your town where everyone knew each other. 

You were already cranky about the fact that you had to shift, added to that came the news that you’d have a roommate since the last room available was allotted to the student who enrolled in just minutes before you. 

It was a bittersweet feeling. Bitter because you have to live with a total stranger having to share common spaces, personality could be who knows how. Sweet because you’d have a familiar face to look around in the University for. 

“Y/n did you see my blue hoodie?” your roommate screamed from his room, to you who was seated on the couch by the living room. “Hmm?” you hum back, knowing full well the hoodie he’s implying to is the one you’d adorned right now. 

“Come on doll, is there any hoodie of mine that you haven’t worn yet?”

Jeno is the perfect roommate. You’d been shocked the first day you punched in the password to your apartment, opening the door only to be greeted with a guy who had nothing but a towel around his torso. Half shocked at the fact that your roommate for the rest of your semester would be a guy. Half shocked that an extremely good looking guy was your roommate. 

Jeno made the unknown neighborhood seem as though you’d been there all your life. He shooed away all your homesickness, never giving you time to even miss your street by bringing up new things to keep the pair of you occupied. 

“Uh? The one that you bought yesterday? I haven’t worn that yet.” you flash him a smile as Jeno passed you a look of boredom. “It was a rhetorical question, Y/n” he shook his head, making his way towards you with nothing but his sweats on. 

Not the first time you’ve seen him half naked, you’d seen him like that almost every other day, Jeno had clearly grown ridiculously close to you. But the sight of his toned abs and chiseled chest never fails to fluster you. “look at the picture you have of me half naked, you’re basically burning holes into my abs, babe” he retorted after plopping down on the seat beside yours and you immediately shift position to lay down on the couch with your head on his lap. 

“Bold of you to assume i still have that image, Jen” you say, handing him the remote to select what you two would be watching that evening as you tug on his free hand, bringing it up to your hair and placing it there, shaking your head slightly as a signal for him to run his fingers through your hair. 

This is how it’d been since you two grew close. You had a very, very touchy friendship. You had no objections to that, absolutely loving the cuddles and names he’d given you.

All fears of being alone had gone with the wind after the news of you being THE Lee Jeno’s roommate spread throughout the campus. The undivided attention you’d receive didn’t faze you though, knowing full well it was all just a way to somehow get Jeno to pay attention to them. 

That didn’t matter though since you’d found a perfect friend circle for yourself. That friend circle being Jeno’s friend circle. They were all extremely bubbly and accepting of your joining in the group. One particularly was extremely close to you. Jaemin. Having shared the same energy level and brain cells, you got close to each other really quick. 

Jeno chuckles at your antics before complying to your silent request, “Whatever. Though, I’d actually say nothing if you do end up being the first one to wear my new hoodie” you look up at him, confused. “you look cute in my clothes” he sends a wink in your way, leaning down to press a small peck on your forehead before diverting his attention to the shows he constantly switched back and forth to. 

“Oh? Then maybe i should change into that right now-” you attempt to get up fast to hide your blushing self, only to be pulled back with a strong grip on the material of your (his) hoodie which resulted in you falling right back onto Jeno’s lap. “Maybe you shouldn’t” he gave you a playful warning look, breaking out into a smile seeing you huff out giggles. 

“But you just said you don’t mind!” you try standing up again, “doesn’t matter” he pulls you back with more force, now locking you in a tight embrace as your head gets flushed into the nape of his neck, arms holding his bare shoulder for support.

Married couple. A title your friends had given you due to the pair of yours dynamic. It’s kind of like an inside joke at this point. Each time they’d point out you having something more than a platonic friendship, Jeno would always be the first one to dismiss it, clearing all misunderstandings whereas you’d make little to no effort to do so. Your love for the lad basically oozed out of you. 

It’s a little hard to not have feelings for a guy with the personality of an angel, behavior intact and looks as a plus one. You are sure he had at least a little something for you seeing his actions, lingering kisses, touches. You are so sure he’s got at least something for you.

Pressing one last kiss to the side of your head, he moves you gently off of him and onto the fluffy couch as you stare at him in confusion, clearly not liking the warmth being taken away from you. “what happened?” you ask him, about to pull him back down, “I promised a friend I’d go over, we’ll cuddle once i return home, is that alright with you doll?” he inquires, leaning down to smoothen down the hair that was sticking out here and there from his previous actions. 

“Why wouldn’t i be alright with that? As long as you give me all the cuddles we’re missing out on right now” you feign anger to which he gave you his signature eye smile. “Of course.” With that he left the room, probably to change into something else. 

You really wanted to spill out your feelings for the lad to him, you weren’t scared of being rejected. Jaemin, Jeno’s known better half, had assured you multiple times of how you’d definitely be the only one to catch Jeno’s attention. 

What you were really scared of was if you’d lose what you had right now. Feelings are stuff that comes and goes in a rapid and you can lose everything you have if your feelings for the other deteriorates somehow. But your friendship was way more important to you than your feelings and you wouldn’t, in a million years, want to lose what you’ve established with Jeno. 

You spend the rest of your evening watching shows, painting your nails, and even reminding yourself to make one of Jeno’s favourite dishes for dinner once he gets home, mentally thanking Jaemin for reminding you to not forget that little confession plan you had plotted. 

You’d make it subtle that you’re in love with your roommate through your actions rather than words, though, he’d be an idiot if he hadn’t already noticed at least a bit of affection for him through your clinginess. 

You make your way to your room after turning the flame down to low upon hearing your phone ring. You wipe your hands on your hoodie before pressing the red button and picking it up, Jaemin’s contact taking up its place on your screen.

“Jaem?” you inquire stupidly as though his caller ID didn’t make it obvious enough that it was, in fact your best friend calling you.

“I would have barged into your house if you’d taken any longer to pick up the call but congratulations for finally gathering some balls to do it Y/n!!” Jaemin screams into the speaker, obvious that he’s excited. “Congrats?” you ask back.

“Yes! Finally! You guys look so cute in that image, I almost threw it at Haechan!” he replied with the same energy. Confusion clouds your mind as you try making sense of his words. 

“Picture? Congratulations? Jaem, what are you talking about?" 

"You know! The picture he just posted of the two of you being all lovey-dovey! I never took Jeno to be a romanticist! Like, the caption??-” you immediately open your laptop to log into your social to see what imagine Jaemin was talking about, “I have a slight doubt that you’re the one who posted it from his-” finally in on instagram, you scroll down to see any new posts of your roommate,

“-phone, but like. I’m so glad that you asked him out, knowing Jeno, he’d never do it unless you double dog dare him-” running impatient hearing Jaemin ramble on about the said image, you finally search up Jeno’s name, feeling your stomach churn with an unknown feeling. 

“Also, did you dye your hair? You look really cute in that image though it isn’t all that clear! I told you from day one you’re a match made in heaven-”

You click on the recent post, the image of Jeno, leaning in, pressing a kiss on the lip of a girl unknown to you fills up your screen, ‘my one and only for eternity’ as the caption. “How was the kiss?-” you pause for a second, refreshing the page to see if it’s really an image of Jeno, kissing a girl, “Jaem.." 

"I mean, if you’re gonna act all shy with me now then don’t tell me, but tell me how did you confess to him?” you can physically feel your heart drop down to your stomach

“Jaemin..” “you finally get to call him your boyfriend, Y/n! No space between the two words! I can’t believe he decided to make your relationship public the day of confession! But seriously-”

“Jaemin listen-" 

"I’m still not over the caption, where did the confession take place?? You should’ve called me man! I would’ve recorded it-”

“Jaemin!” you finally scream, losing it at all the words coming out of his mouth, feeling enraged at yourself for ever thinking you stood a chance. Hearing the line go silent, you feel something wet travel down your cheeks the more you stare at your crush kissing a girl that’s not you. You choke out a silent sob. How are you supposed to face him after today, knowing everything you felt for him was unrequited?

“That girl in the image is not me.”

[my-writings-and-musings]

hello! if you are taking requests, can you please do the oxygen loss prompt with megatron and whirl?

I did Whirl in part two, so I have Megatron here with a ridiculously long one and I hope that's okay! I added Thunderclash as well so I can keep my pattern of two because... I like patterns. I might be getting super into this prompt...

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: You're Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Megatron

·You're in the ship's recently finished classroom organizing lesson plans on your own, having been working with Megatron to try and set up more structured class schedules on the growing list of topics he's begun to cover. You're thrilled he's found a kind of calling on the ship, especially one that seems to be allowing bots to see the side of him you know best. He's made it quite clear in his own way that your assistance in this endeavor means the world to him.

·He's on the bridge, scouting out potential locations for refueling on the next leg of the journey with the rest of the commanding officers. For once there's mostly cohesion in their efforts, and his insistence on choosing planets hospitable to humans is met with agreement, if not surprise. They're on schedule to finish early for a quiet afternoon off when everything turns to a level of chaos even the experienced crewmembers have to call extreme. The rumble that shakes the entire ship is one Megatron and experienced space travelers know well; they've been ambushed.

·You're nearly knocked off the desk you're standing on by the unexpected tremors. While you're trying to figure out what could possibly have caused the disturbance, a message is appearing up on the bridge, where alerts of failing systems and corrupted codes almost make it impossible to hear an alien captain decree an intent to storm the ship. Megatron attempts diplomacy before lives are lost, but the enemy makes it clear; this ship and its contents are more valuable than anything they could offer. While the captain notes their species has heard of the famed Lost Light and its crew, their hack of the security systems proved embarrassingly simple, and they look forward to the easy payoff from selling the scraps of the Cybertronians onboard!

·With communications down and systems struggling through an ongoing sabotage, Megatron still prepares to coordinate a defense, but is stopped before he can begin by a final taunt from their enemy. Their hack of the security cameras showed his fondness for his new pet, a homo sapien of all things, and thus his current concern should be for the atmospheric regulation instead of battle plans. But considering how many dead organics he's left in his wake, surely one more shouldn't perturb him too deeply, yes?

·The line goes dead just as the ship's alarm attempts to sound, signaling an impending attack before it too crashes with everything else. His fellow officers are moving to get defenses up however they can, preparing to get the resident tech experts on the job of restoring key systems while trying to plan a counterattack with no way to reach anyone. He's near to frozen as he tries to message you to no avail, the cruel mockery of the enemy cutting deep in ways words rarely do for him, if only because the implication terrifies him like nothing ever has; he's all but helpless to save you.

·Only experience and an undying determination allow him to break through the fog. Without asking for guidance or permission, he states his one intent; to rescue you however he can. If there are any objections, he does not hear them, and soon his pedes are tearing down the hallway to where he last saw you and prays he'll find you; the classroom. Oblivious to his rush, the only thing you're aware of is the fact that something is amiss, but you don't have a clue as to what. Between the tremor, the brief blare of the alarm and your inability to get your communicator running, you only know there's danger inbound.

·Not having much information to work with, you surmise that the classroom is probably not the safest place to hunker down, and recall that the medical and scientific wings aren't far. As the doctors on the ship have added human medicine to their repertoire, and are hardly defenseless, trying to get to them seems your greatest hope for securing yourself. Not wanting to panic, you push your supplies into a somewhat neat pile and climb down the small ladder that's been added to the desk for your sake. Somehow you don't find yourself at the top of your worries at all. Your thoughts center almost entirely on Megatron, who will undoubtedly be forced into whatever conflict might erupt, and even an unexpected staleness in the air around you hardly registers amidst your anxiety.

·Megatron is still too logical of a bot not to stop every crewmember he sees to give them a brief list of orders. He knows that, without a united defense and victory, there won't be any way you can be saved at all. So he takes the hindrance, though bots hardly take long to move when he issues a command. But his growing fear gnaws at him with a simple truth; without communication, he can't even be sure of your location, let alone your condition. Perhaps he's going the wrong way. Perhaps you're already beyond help. Perhaps you've already been discovered by the enemy. All he can do in the face of blinding terror is keep moving, keep coordinating, and keep hoping beyond reason that he'll be fortunate for once.

·You can't remember the classroom ever taking so long to cross, but that's hardly important, especially with your communicator still failing to function. Reaching Megatron would give you incredible comfort right now, if only to hear he's alright, yet that's obviously not going to happen. Honestly, it sounds silly to really think about it, the human worrying for the Cybertronian... But your anxiety isn't comforted merely to remember he's a gigantic combat veteran, not knowing anything about his current status is all it needs to wander to scary places...

·Closing in on your position, the mech in question echoes your worry, but his knowledge of the current danger puts his feelings closer to panic. All he knows is that he's coordinated a not insignificant number of bots for a better defense on his way through the ship. With better resistance on their side, he knows they can win, because they must. The alternative won't come to pass while his spark still flickers within him. That promise comes to an early test when he overhears enemies moving on the path ahead, and he takes the charge without hesitation, his terror converting quite easily to rage for extra assistance.

·By the time you're at the door you know something is wrong with you. Each step comes with a wobble you can't explain, and soon the dizziness you thought was worry has grown to almost debilitating levels. Why is the room spinning? Why does your body feel so heavy? It doesn't worry you as much as it probably should, but you know it needs to be fixed, especially with the ship potentially in jeopardy. Faint activity from the hallway outside spurs you to finally trigger the door to open, which thankfully appears to be one of the few systems still working. Heavy footsteps not too far away register in your ears just as you're forced to lean against a wall for support.

·The aliens that come into view before you quite unexpectedly are large, tough, and well armed. Most races would have found them an insurmountable challenge, and even an experienced Cybertronian combatant couldn't expect an easy victory against a single fighter, leaving you quite hopeless as you stare upwards in confusion. Megatron is not the norm, and his drive to win is fuelled by far more than just survival, so he feels little more than irritation when he finally arrives to the hallway you're pinned within. More than a dozen mark his path to you, their forms clustered around the helpless human in sick curiosity, and as a result they're heedless to his appearance.

·Hulking forms most definitely not of Cybertronian make tower over your body as it struggles to keep upright, the ceiling spinning overhead as you try to connect thoughts and move your legs to flee. A language you don't understand precedes a slow swipe in your direction, one that you stumble away from more than dodge, resulting in you roughly collapsing to the floor. Something like cruel laughter greets your painful tumble. You should be angry, being mocked like a bug skittering from its inevitable squishing, but God you're so exhausted. It's not even in you to be afraid when the barrel of an alien gun is pointed at your head and the scent of ozone fills your nose while the barrel fills with light.

·A second tremor shakes the ship, but this one proves to be far more deadly than the last. Your would be killers are obliterated by a blur of gunmetal gray that pummels them into the floor, and before you can blink the carnage begins and seems to escalate to unimaginable levels of ferocity. Only your familiarity with Megatron allows you to discern him amidst the flurry of quickly diminishing combatants, but he's nothing like the mech you know in this instant, going for sheer brute force over strategy as he tears aliens apart with his bare servos. In the bloody chaos you can't tell if he's taking damage or not despite the sheer numbers he was initially facing.

·The end of it all is somehow more startling than the beggining. In one final attack he ends the last soldier, quieting the cacophony of battle to leave only the steady drip of alien blood down the wall and his own haggard ventilations. There's a dash of bright energon amongst the mess, glowing in rivulets down his side, and somehow that's what gets your cloudy brain moving again. Pushing exhausted legs against the floor, you try to rise as you cry out in concern, reaching for him before you collapse right back against the solid ground.

·Heedless to his own injuries, Megatron is over you in a single instant, no longer blinded by the fury he'd experienced at the sight of you in peril. All he'd known was that your attackers had needed to die, no hesitation, and tearing them apart had come easily from there. Now things are once again far from simple. The blood on his hands doesn't stop him from picking you up as gingerly as he can, though your impossibly tiny body appears more delicate than ever in his massive palms. Though it makes him sick to realize, he does indeed know a struggling organic when he sees one, making the captain's words burn in his audials once more.

·Guilt is forced down to a minimum so he can focus on what matters; you. He needs to get you somewhere safe but with access to oxygen, and the only place that can happen is the medical bay or the laboratory, and he knows both are quite close. He couldn't care less about his own gashed side, so even if the medics and scientists are elsewhere he should likely be able to rig something up before energon loss impacts him. Holding you close, in a way that will permit him to shield you with his body, he starts moving while he speaks to you. It's obvious even to him his words aren't motivating, but at least they seem to get your attention.

·Looking up at him, feeling like you're tiny beyond belief thanks to his incredible size, you wonder how much of this could be real. Megatron had just hurled himself into battle for you, enduring agonizing wounds in the process, and beaten back what should have been impossible odds... If he wasn't so close you could touch him, you'd certainly think he was just a figment of your imagination emerging from the spinning hallways around you. His deep baritone rumbles reassurances to you as your eyes slowly drift shut, your perception fading around the edges until he's all you can see, and you can feel sleep beckoning like never before.

·He truly has seen enough organics dying to recognize that you're fading in his arms, and seeing the connection between such atrocities and you is slowly starting to tear into him with guilt that refuses to be ignored. How many lives just like yours has he snuffed out? How recently was it that he could have ended your life amongst the billions of others, unaware of what a gift you are to the universe? More specifically, because of this, what right does he have to so much as look at you? The thoughts are a dark and unmanageable tangle by the time he arrives at his destination, where an already overwhelmed medical crew is tending to the injured from an apparently victorious battle. He's near to shock when he hands you over to a frantically rushing Ratchet and simply explains you need oxygen, his hand gingerly cupping his injury before he firmly insists on being the last to be repaired. If he's spoken to afterwards, he doesn't remember any of what is said.

·The medical bay is dim when you awaken, and you see that you've been placed in your own private room when you look about, oxygen mask holding secure to your face as you do so. A massive shape against the wall would have startled you if you didn't immediately recognize Megatron. He smiles almost sadly when you awaken, and while you initially attribute his uncharacteristic weariness to the welded injury on his side, he quickly makes it clear that isn't the case. Whispering a simple wish for your recovery, he excuses himself and makes to leave, and you know that something is amiss m

·When you merely call for him to stop, he breaks, confessing that his relief to see you alive is equal only to his certainty that he's not worthy of you and can no longer pretend otherwise. It takes all of your strength to sit up and demand he stay; you refuse to let the bot who just saved you walk out, especially when you've made it abundantly clear his past is something you've accepted, and your firm reminder is cut short only by dizziness forcing you to lay back. The sight stirs him to return to your side, concern in his optics, and you lay a hand on the tip of his digit in a breathless and wordless reminder; he's more than his past to you, and you made that decision knowing the struggles ahead. He smiles as his digit gently strokes your forehead, recalling that he too had made a decision that day; to trust you meant yours.

Thunderclash

·The two of you are in the hangar practicing sparring, which for your benefit mostly consists of him holding up a training dummy against his palm while you whack at it, and as is often the case you've become sidetracked by conversation over actual work. He's laying on his front to keep the two of you closer to eye level, leaning his chin against his spare hand for comfort, talking about all the little things that come to mind as opposed to the grand topics he's used to being asked about. Frankly, this freedom a big part of what he likes about these moments with you. He gets to just be a bot with interests like any other.

·Your casual chat is interrupted by a communication from the command team on the bridge, who summon him for assistance tracing where a series of small anomalies across the ship might be coming from. Systems are glitching in ways that can't be explained, the defensive radar can't seem to decide if there's something in the apparently empty space around them, and in an ironic twist the message goes dead just as communication problems are mentioned. It's quickly apparent something needs to be done.

·Apologizing for having to cut things short, the massive bot offers to give you a ride to the heart of the ship, which he'll have to pass on his way to the bridge. Always eager to spend more time together, you happily oblige, taking the place of the training dummy in his palm as he lifts you to rest beside his spark. While his shoulder is arguably a more dignified location, you take more than a little comfort feeling the hum of his energy at your back, and thus have chosen this as your travel spot. Between his wound and the many setbacks it's taken to get him back in shape, it's just nice to feel his spark going strong.

·Not long after setting off, he gets the sense there's more to these troubles than technical error, and that something less than desirable may be the culprit. It's not something he can explain, but being more attuned to the subtler things in his environment just gives him a feeling. When he voices this to you, along with the thought you should probably be left somewhere safe, you ask what he believes might be coming. Not because you don't believe him, but you know he only drops his smile when he is preparing for something bad, and you haven't seen proof of any concrete threat.

·With almost comedic timing, the ship lurches at that very moment, nearly knocking the big bot off balance. Only his firm but careful hold saves you from a twenty foot fall. The rumble fades off with something like a great dragging sensation through the ship, which you'd compare to a Manhattan sized car grinding to a halt. Now cupping you in both hands, Thunderclash asks earnestly if you're alright, to which you reassuringly reply that a little turbulence isn't enough to do any damage.

·Smiling at the fortitude of your tiny body, he begins walking straight away, shifting to strategy as his red optics narrow in contemplation. He explains that the particular nature of that shake confirmed his suspicions something is planning an attack. Rather, they're initiating an attack. The sensation of a ship being locked to another and anchored is a particular one, and combined with their systems crashing it's obvious an enemy has come prepared to strike for a well planned ambush.

·You see that he's worrying, but you say nothing of it, taking hold of his thumb to communicate support. Being with him in private has made it clear his existence as a perpetual source of strength for others exhausts him, so you've since committed to acting as his well of certainty in difficult times. Not letting your fear bleed in to your words, you instead ask what the two of you should do, confirming your own communicator is uselessly jammed as you do so.

·Moving through the ship at considerable speed with his long legs, he decides that you'll still need to be secured rather quickly, as enemy combatants are probably already storming the ship or preparing to do so. You'd debate him if you weren't well aware of the logic in his plan. No matter what the enemy is, you won't stand much of a chance in a full on brawl, as anything confident enough to attack a Cybertronian starship is likely to have the firepower to back itself up. Still, it's impossible not to be dissapointed by your inability to offer aid, though it's probably for the best as you're rather exhausted from sparring anyway.

·It happens in a blur, but that's partly because of the shocking reaction time of the bot carrying you, something few would expect due to his size. Thunderclash registers the threat as soon as he turns the corner, a feat aided by the very much not Cybertronian appearance of the figures he sees, and then made far easier by the multiple clicks of weapons preparing to fire. Your presence in his hands became his central point of focus in that instant. Turning on the spot, he allowed the first hail of bullets to strike his armored back, keeping you well out of the line of fire before ducking behind an opposite corner for cover. The sting of the gunfire matters little when he sees you safe in his hands, and less when he instructs you to stay low after setting you down and charging in to fight.

·In the heat of it all, you're embarrassed to be caught so frazzled, as this is hardly your first exposure to alien combat. But there's little time to admonish yourself when chaos unfolds just around the corner, and your tiny size permits a small peek... Thunderclash is the gentlest giant in the world to you, but in just a few blinks the hulking aliens are on the losing front, and while his fighting style is far from gratuitous it is effective. You're still trembling from the rush of the initial shock when the last enemy of the group is on the floor, but even with your shaky vision you can see your bot is unharmed. For a moment that little burst of relief supersedes everything else.

·In usual fashion though, he expresses worry for you when he returns to pick you up from where he left you, drawing an affectionate chuckle from you at how impossibly selfless this mech can be. But he doesn't back down from the question like he usually does. His expression of concern intensifies as he starts moving again, and his sharp optics find ample to worry about on your seemingly unharmed body, with particular attention being paid to your face. Those brilliant eyes of yours are well known to him, and so he can tell something is... off in their beautiful depths. Even if his medical studies focus very little on organics, he's able to recognize the signs of a body struggling, and your paleness combined with the way you labor for each breath tells him something is very wrong.

·Now in a race against time, he has no choice but to move, gunning it towards the ship's tech wing where the laboratories and medical bay are located. He doesn't yet know what's wrong with you for certain, but aid will be there if it's anywhere to be found. There's no time to be wasted in securing you somewhere either, he's going to have to face any threats as they come in the moment whilst ensuring your protection in the process. It's a set of circumstances he's encountered before in his long and eventful time as a soldier, but there's an entirely new variable this time around; you. He adores you, like no one he's ever met before, and perhaps it's selfish but the very thought of losing you... he's not sure his spark could take it.

·The soothing tone of his voice and the rhythmic thumping of his footsteps make it surprisingly difficult for you to heed his requests to stay as awake as possible. Even though your breaths are coming in with difficulty, it seems like sleep would be a fantastic idea at the moment, even if only to rest your eyes. His cupped hands just support your body so nicely, and are so warm, and his voice is so delightfully melodic. Why does he seem so intent on keeping you conscious? Why does he look so incredibly upset to see you struggling to keep your eyes open?

·The pathway he chooses is mercifully free of conflict at first, but that matters little due to your rate of deterioration, as you may not make it even at his full speed. Driving isn't an option due to his need to be combat ready, and the lack of options and hope is absolutely tearing him apart. He hasn't had someone like you in his life before, and the desperation in his voice begins to show that, cracking as he loses his steadfast control of his usually impervious wall of confidence. The selfishness of his desire kills him; how dare he put his own feelings on you due to his weakness? Begging you to survive for his sake?

·No amount of haze can prevent you from startling at his pain. There are tears in his optics, though he doesn't even seem to notice them, letting them fall down his face as he pleads. In the warm fog clouding your brain, you feel a surge of worry, and your hand instinctively grabs at his nearest digit to give it a squeeze. Before you can even offer a breathless reasurance, he ceases running and dives from gunfire that seems to erupt from nowhere, laying you in a tiny maintenance crevice before hurling himself at the second delay he knows you don't have time for. The last thing you see before drifting off is the grief in his optics that you wish you'd been able to comfort...

·While his combat skills always make things quick, in this blur of pain and rage he's downright brutal, ending each foe swiftly but with absolute contempt for their existence clear in every torn limb. Hits to his own frame don't register at all. Bullets and blades mean nothing in the face of what he's about to lose, and the vengeance fueling his strength turns foes into scattered body parts more effectively than any grenade ever could. By the end of it all he's likely set a record for the swiftness of his takedown, but it matters as little as his multitude of bleeding wounds. All he can see is your now limp body as he pulls it from the hiding spot, and his vision narrows to only your faintly moving chest and his pedes moving one past the other through the carnage.

·There's a mass of activity in the technology wing, likely due to injuries as well as the many bots ordered to stand guard in the event of battle, but he doesn't hear the reaction his arrival triggers in the slightest. His sharp processor is reduced to one goal, and anything unrelated doesn't exist. At the sight of the crowded medical bay he starts to strategize. Ratchet appears in his vision, first focusing only on his obvious injuries and the alien blood he didn't know was spattered across his frame, before well trained optics catch sight of the tiny human limp in his hands.

·There's a rush of an explanation; they think one of the systems downed was the atmospheric generators, resulting in a loss of the oxygen the ship maintains for your needs. It's all the information Thunderclash needs to act. Brushing off any help for himself and encouraging the more egregiously wounded to be tended first, he requests only to be provided what you need. Busy tending the injured, medics still assist him getting a supply of oxygen going where they can, with Ratchet using his particular knowledge of human anatomy to ensure the ratio is correct for your biology while Thunderclash prepares it all. Dexterous hands set you on a medical slab where an oxygen mask and scanner are used to return your blood oxygen to normal, and just like that, he knows you'll eventually be okay...

·By the time you wake up your tiny frame has been moved to a private room, both to keep you from the chaos of crammed in bots and to give the two of you privacy from adoring admirers. He's beside you, his wounds patched but his frame still dirtied with blood, a sight that shocks you enough to force a gasp into your mask. Perking up the instant he hears you, the hulking mech is as close as the berth allows in a flash. A stream of questions about your wellbeing passes his lips before you can get a word in. Between the dried blood, the patched wounds, and the faint discoloration of his optics that suggests recent weeping... It's hard to know what to ask him, so you vaguely request a rundown of what happened.

·His face falls, and in between recounts of alien attacks and near death experiences there's overwhelming self depreciation. To hear him tell it the entire affair might as well be his fault. You've always known him to be humble, even critical of his actions, but this borders on self destructive. Worse, the crux of his crisis seems to be that he was motivated to save you not just by duty, but by his selfish desire to protect the one he loved so dearly and can't bare to lose. His own desires are inexcusable in these things, as he puts it, and could have hindered him at your expense. Shaky arms rise so that you can grab the nearest part of him, a digit once again, as you encourage him to stop tormenting himself. You owed him your life, several times over just for today alone, and there wasn't a bot in existence less selfish than he. The kindness of his spark was what you'd fallen in love with, and what you still loved now, because he was more than a legend to you. You loved Thunderclash the bot, not the expectation everyone else had built around him, and thus he'd always be enough just by being himself. Finally relaxing after everything, and his spark singing at your ability to become his rock when he needs one, he allows himself to just rest and exist as he is. Laying his helm on the berth beside you, he nuzzles close, allowing himself to feel simple gratitude to have and love you as you do him.

[syn0vial]

important question number 3 what do you have on boba and sintas vel 👀 - lekkui

i have... some things! honestly, i wish sintas’s portrayal had been a little more solid in the EU. it varied wildly between writers and in certain comics, she had little more characterization than “beautiful, tough bounty hunter chick.” i hope if they revisit her in new canon, they give her a more nuanced, more consistent depiction. also i’ll be ignoring said comics for the purposes of this post bc it’s my blog and i’m too sleepy for salt right now

but yes, onto the bullet points!

for those unaware, sintas vel was a female kiffar bounty hunter who boba tried to start a new life with when they were teenagers. they both got out of the bounty hunting game and settled down on concord dawn, where they got married and had a daughter, ailyn. boba was 16 and sintas was 18 at the time.

one of the things i find most interesting about the two of them, especially when they were teenagers: ailyn was consistently the more logical and level-headed of the two of them, while boba was always more emotional and impulsive. tragically, it’s this impulsivity that leads boba to fuck up so badly and, ironically, to transform into the emotionally detached asshole we know later on.

but yeah, this dichotomy is seen pretty early on in a flashback-by-proxy, in which we learn that the whole romantic run-away-together-and-get-married-and-start-a-new-life-somewhere-far-away plan? 100% BOBA’S IDEA. 

in particular, we get the briefest snippet of an exchange where boba is trying his hardest to convince sintas that this would be a good idea. and, no exaggeration, it goes like:

sintas: “i mean, it’s kind of very obvious that you don’t know what you’re doing--” boba: “THINGS I KNOW: YOU’RE GOOD AT SHOOTING THINGS. YOU’RE PRETTY??? I TRUST YOU A LOT. see this is a good idea :)”

TEENAGE BOBA FETT: PURE OF HEART, DUMB OF ASS

anyway, boba fett and noted-morosexual sintas vel make their way to concord dawn. here’s some things we know about their relationship before everything went to shit:

nicknames! they referred to each other with the first syllable of each others’ names: bo and sin. very cute :)

they got married using a traditional mandalorian wedding vow. neither of them had any idea what the mando’a meant, bless their hearts.

as a marriage token, boba gave sintas a small red heart-of-fire gemstone tied on a simple leather cord. it was the best he could afford which, at the time, wasn’t much. however, it had significance to sintas as a kiffar; kiffars are near-humans whose members possess an unusually high occurrence rate of telemetry, or the ability to read memories from objects. heart-of-fire gemstones were said to be among the best for storing such memories.

SHIPPY FIC WRITERS TAKE NOTE. three words to describe boba in a committed relationship: PROTECTIVE. AS. HELL. absolutely unwilling to tolerate so much as a dirty look towards sintas. maybe even a little paranoid. kind of understandable given how much grief he’d already endured in his short life.

it didn’t save them

ok, fair warning, here’s the point where shit gets traumatic, so if you want to know nothing but the relatively happy stuff, STOP READING HERE. also, CWs for manipulation, sexual assault, murder, and imprisonment, bc nobody in this canon is allowed to be happy :(

last chance to turn back!

ok. onto the traumatic shit.

so! boba and sintas are doing fine. operation stop-being-teenaged-bounty-hunters-and-try-to-pass-for-normal is going pretty well! not only do they have their own functional little family unit, but boba has a job as a journeyman protector. basically think of them as like. mando frontier lawmen. and on top of that, boba has been taken under the wing of his superior officer and son of a local magistrate, lenovar. 

we don’t know much about lenovar (like, is that his first or his last name, for example...) but we know that boba and sintas trusted him and that boba in particular looked up to him as both a friend and mentor. 

however, lenovar was not what he seemed. once he had the young couple’s trust, he managed to get sintas alone and raped her.

in the aftermath, sintas performed some brutally pragmatic mental calculus: lenovar was a high-ranking journeyman protector and son of a magistrate. she and boba were two struggling teenagers with a baby, escaping checkered pasts. retaliating against lenovar would likely destroy them. which meant not only that she couldn’t retaliate against lenovar; she had to make sure boba wouldn’t, either.

so. how do you keep your extremely protective, impulsive former-bounty-hunter husband from flying off the handle and murdering your rapist?

you don’t tell him about it. you don’t tell anyone about it :(

argh just reading this i’m feeling salty that we get so little of sintas’s perspective on any of this. it’s all just “how did this make boba feel? how did it affect boba’s life?” and it’s like GOOD GOD. this woman is now maybe 20 years old, making the absolutely-gutting decision to keep her sexual assault a secret from her closest friend bc it’s the only way to protect her and him and their daughter from being steamrolled by the system. and like, nobody thought to expand on that? 

nope, we just get a comic where she’s needlessly sexualized and drawn to look young enough to be boba’s daughter despite the fact that she’s older than him and ugh

OKAY. enough salt. moving on.

sintas’s plan works for all of a year, at which point boba somehow finds out the truth. and everything goes straight to hell.

boba, finding out that sintas kept her sexual assault by lenovar a secret for a whole year (and remember, boba was probably continuing to work under and look up to lenovar during this time), is utterly furious. of course, he wants nothing more than to murder the shit out of lenovar and is only further enraged when sintas tries to logically talk him out of it. in his anger, he proceeds to verbally torch ALL the bridges in their relationship, at one point even cruelly questioning if ailyn is even his daughter. he then storms off and makes good on his threats to kill lenovar

in the aftermath, boba was branded not just a murderer, but the murderer of his superior officer—an even more serious crime. yet, despite repeated interrogations, he refused to say why he had done it, fearing that doing so would drag sintas down with him. he only insisted that he felt no remorse for killing lenovar and that lenovar deserved to die.

in the end, his efforts didn’t save sintas—the courts seized all of what meager assets they had, leaving them all penniless. boba was then exiled from concord dawn and wouldn’t see his wife and daughter again for fifty years.

after everything that happened, boba was a changed person. it’s as if that spark of optimism and dare-i-say goodness that had survived his father’s death was snuffed out, leaving only a cynical, angry shell, laser-focused on violence because it was the one part of his father’s legacy he hadn’t yet failed.

sintas and ailyn, meanwhile, struggled to pull themselves out of poverty, with sintas reluctantly returning to bounty hunting to support them. ailyn never forgave her father for abandoning them, which led to its own equally-disastrous tragedy some decades down the line.

moral of the story is to listen to your wife and don’t make her sexual assault all about your stupid need for revenge. like, i get that the rapist needs to die but maybe like... work with your wife and make it look like an accident? don’t be an impulsive fucking inconsiderate idiot? maybe realize that your wife probably just endured the most hellish year of her life to protect YOUR dumb ass?

honestly, as frustrating as teenage!boba is, you can’t even be that angry at him bc like... he and sintas were both victims reacting imperfectly to absolutely shit circumstances. lenovar is the real villain here.

never going to be over how tragic it is that these two kids tried so fucking hard to derail their villainous origin stories, only to be forced onto even more brutal tracks bc the one adult they should’ve been able to trust in their situation ended up being a predator :(