𝖙𝖞𝖇𝖆𝖑𝖙
trigger warning : abuse , blood
when spoken of , he wonders what others think he’s ruled by . hubris comes to mind , a tall standing tower of deadly pride ; tybalt song wears his name & his power like gold . everyone knows him , they know of him , they fall to his feet & build altars made of marble because his achievements are boasted . medals hang form his neck , banners pinned to his shoulders while he holds the largest trophies in his hands . hubris is a big one – but he wonders who sees wrath . pure , unfiltered fury that presents in an unwavering glare & cutting words . anger is inherited , but tybalt’s never understood where his father’s comes from ; where the red that surrounds him emanates from . song yong hwa has no reason to treat his children the way he does , but he does anyway . & they just take it , they listen to the roars from the top of mount othrys , they build their temples one mountain over on olympus with shaking hands to ignore the inevitable titanomachy that’ll fall upon them some day . ophelia’s prepared by becoming kronos , inhabiting zeus’s throne & commanding an empty room ; tybalt’s fallen in with dionysus , chosen to waste his life away – only to be called back by their titan father like a lackey . when spoken of , he hopes someone has seen his cowardice , called him out as a false god wearing a crown of thorns that was forced upon his head . if there’s a hero out there , hopes they’ve marked him as their villain .
because he’s done a lot to her , but this bruise that shines on her skin proves that tybalt didn’t do enough . he’s thrown insults her way , made her feel unworthy , let her sink into quicksand while he stands with a cunning grin . a side effect , a requirement to keep her benched on the sidelines but – he’s always known she could take it . if anyone could battle with a fake titan & come out unscathed , it’s her . nobody can hold their own like the girl in front of him , can bare her teeth in response to his daggers running through her ; ophelia can take anything but she doesn’t stand a chance against their father . their father who uses his fists as penalty , who craves blood when faced with disrespect ; tybalt can take it – he’s built to take it but ophelia ? who arrived in the smallest bundle of blankets , who grew with ribbons in her hair & who’s bark is much worse than her bite – one SLAP & this is her face . so this is who he is , a villain because he’s spent his entire life following their father & it wasn’t enough . at the end of the day , their story turned from war to tragedy – he hurt her so their father could hurt her . whatever tybalt did wasn’t enough , their father won with rings on his hands , blood underneath his fingernails & a cruel laughter falling from a corrupted mouth .
so he doesn’t know what hurts more – that he’s lost again or how hot the anger feels . his chest , burning up when she spits fire at him – she fuels the flames even higher , red crawling from his aura into his skin . splotches of pink on white skin while he feels it burn him from the inside out ; lyssa who laughs at him while she sends her entire being into him , watching a mere mortal struggle with so much rage tybalt is on the edge of consciousness . nothing he’s done matters ; everything he’s done matters – their father’s a titan , but titans can be killed . it’s fate , the stories always play out the way they have to & the titans never win . his blazer is unbuttoned with steady hands – stained red on the inside from where a glass was thrown at his ribcage , where shards of an expensive gift from a king were embedded so deep he bled into the silk linings . slowly , he shrugs it off – remembering every hit – every scar – every pitiful look a private doctor sent his way . there’s a scar on the palm pulling off his blazer – nails dug so deep their plastic surgeon refused to touch it . on the tip of his fingertips that hold the fabric he can still feel the sting of an expensive italian shoe stepping on them . the way he silently drapes his jacket on her bed before he takes a seat – remnants of the silence before palms met his cheek . it means nothing if at the end of this storybook she gets hurt too . a shitty way to be a brother – in order to have her avoid her fate , he tried to stop it by pushing her toward it .
almost on the verge of tears is how angry he is ; a lump formed in his throat while he rolls undoes his cuff links . golden cuffs , family crest engraved onto the face dropped onto her floor – crushed underfoot his shoes ; ground to dust the way giants walk over cities . ring slides off his finger , his arm pulls back , ring in hand before it’s flung toward a glass frame . a TITAN in his own right , for the first time he renounces the power thrust upon him & grows into his own . he shakes off the banners & the medals & embraces the gift given to him by hellfire . the frame shatters – the smallest weapon is the deadliest as glass clatters to the floor . a titan will fall , the mountain will crumble , he will walk across poisoned lands barefoot to tear down the dark throne with his bare hands . HIS anger is born from the titan , tended to by punches & snapped ribs , cared for by poison & toxic until he’s turned into a weapon meant to be wielded by the titan himself . it’s almost poetic that tybalt be his downfall – such a respected diplomat , such a respected family ; how would the world react if he knew his favored son – the one paraded around , shown off to kings & presidents alike – paid for perfection with false teeth ? would they hold the same feared respect if he arrived in front of the cameras with every bruise he’s ever received ? paint his skin purple , it wouldn’t be enough .
he doesn’t look at her , fingers wringing together so tight until it hurts . ❛ i don’t need to look – i know what defiance looks like . ❜ he doesn’t turn around as his hand gestures to her face – before pulling back & rolling up his sleeve . his voice is stoically quiet – steady , unshaken but calm ; the stillness when in the eye of the storm . ❛ you’re not purple , yet , don’t give him a chance to get there . ❜ he advises almost silently – his voice is deeper than usual , smoother with anger . besides , it’s not as if tybalt will let her get to that point . he’ll let her fight until her vocal chords are raw , tybalt will never let her litter her skin with the blue & purple watercolors that’ve splotched onto his . he rolls up his other sleeve with a deep inhale , eyes focusing on the shattered glass on the ground . daggers , the seeds that yong hwa have planted in both of them – never in a million years would he’d have thought his children would bring him down . ❛ tell me what you want to do . ❜ an order , a command spoken from lips colder than ice . it’s scarier than usual , written in the silent kind of anger that’s uncharacteristic on the kind of man who announces his battle cry before he gets anywhere . ❛ now . ❜
𝖆𝖇𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖙𝖜 , 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖙𝖜 , 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖙𝖜
𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 in full armor , she enters the world armed and makes the earth shudder before her . ophelia was born into cruelty , she knew war before she ever learned the meaning of peace . it was never more than a utopia , figment of innocent imaginations that were never made to thirst for glory as if it were nectar . born an enemy , a disappointment , a failure ––– ophelia was to don her golden armor and reach for a sword if she ever wanted to take the throne for herself . when she learned that softness was nothing but synonym to weakness , ophelia's sharp claws dug into herself and she became something harsh . smiles reserved for those who needed to fall into her illusion of tenderness so she could gain their favor , falsehood was never sin when it led to power . nothing was sinful , nothing prohibited , when the prize hung tantalizingly out of her reach . she was taught to do anything , and ophelia learned the lesson with ease . any way to bridge the gap between herself and a glittering throne was valid , so ophelia grew to resort to threats and insults before charm . cruelty came with a level of ease that was almost frightening , if not for her lineage . softness was weakness , ophelia modeling herself after a man who gained power by crushing any rival under his foot without a second thought ––– cruelty was power . athena is born in full battle armor , ophelia learns that war has always been her only option and grows into her role as leader of an army where every friend , every rival , is nothing but a pawn on her chess board .
𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 have forever been tipped in tybalt's favor , the war already won before it was ever fought . ophelia is strong , she has resisted indifference and exile and emerged golden . softness was weakness , she has hardened into marble ––– and her own excellence has cost her in a cruel twist of fate that has never been on her side . ophelia has set herself upon the altar , broken and stitched back together one too many times , jagged edges barely fitting against each other while the cracks are hidden under medals and trophies alike . the god the song siblings worshipped made no move when cain brought a rock to her temple , he showed no mercy for abel when she was beaten down by a brother who has never shown her mercy before . tybalt has never shown hesitation before bringing his own weapons down on every crack until she feels close to shattering , he has torn her down more times than ophelia can ever count . no armor could protect her when she spent her days learning history and mathematics , while tybalt could have written essays on her vulnerabilities . they worshipped a god who never mourned the downfall of abel , he smiled upon a son growing into cruelty and placed a crown upon his head instead of a mark ––– ophelia's doom was prophesized , the sacrifices she brought to his altar were always worth nothing to a cruel god . one who expected her to surrender .
𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 . not when she has become glorious already , not when there is a crown on her head ––– it is one she has shaped for herself , twisting gold into place until it becomes worthy of self proclaimed royalty . she would never let herself be reduced to a pretty face and a pleasant smile ––– ophelia would never surrender , not even for a titan she once worshipped . let him call her a heretic , let her know his wrath , ophelia has turned her faith towards herself . she will sing hymns in her own name , she will carve her own throne out of marble and decorate it with gold because she has never deserved anything less than glory . she is no coward , nor will she ever be reduced to the fruitless position of being her father's pawn . gaze turns to tybalt , and even bruised , ophelia is defiant . she expects no mercy from the boy king , the one who earned their father’s favor and all rights to the throne . she has hated him for so long , she has called him a failure and a coward to his face . now , her gaze clings onto every minuscule movement . ophelia knows they are as calculated as her own , she has learned that the two of them are only similar in their downfall , but she never expected tybalt to join her in war . not when he had a choice between glory and rebellion by the side of a sister whose side he has never taken before . family crest hits the ground , shatters glass ––– ophelia knows the meaning behind actions she once took herself . they are the sign of defiance , they are a declaration of war against a titan who has turned his children into beasts . oh , if only he foresaw that ophelia would sooner claw her way onto mount othrys than bend her knee to anyone . and maybe tybalt has let go of his own cowardice , because her brother's voice is almost concerned , even when his back is turned to her after actions that echo her own . his words are a harsh reminder that tybalt encountered a titan's wrath long before she did , he has been victim to their father's cruelty for years . he has had enough , too ––– and ophelia finds allegiance in the familiar sight of a ring discarded among shattered glass .
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 do with newfound freedom ? there are no altars anymore , there is no need to turn herself into a sacrifice . there is nothing holding her back from becoming a god and occupying a throne far higher than the one she craved for years . ophelia doesn't have to praise anybody but herself , there is no one's approval but her own ––– what does she want to do , after a lifetime of devotion to a titan who was never worth her praise ? ophelia has always been daughter to wrath and envy , insecurity burned and cruelty shaped from its ashes . but now , with a world of mortals at her feet , ophelia allows her mind to wander towards greed as her ambition finally knows no limits . she could put her dreams of queendom to rest at last and run into the open arms of peace , find that it has never been utopia but hidden away in small cities and lavish villas in the countryside away from the wars of the bloodthirsty . ophelia stands slowly , and any illusion of serenity melts away as her jaw tilts upwards ––– ophelia was born to wage war , and that is exactly what she intends to do . every step towards her brother is a stone in the tentative bridge built between siblings who have been brought together by a titan's cruelty . ophelia would never surrender , she would never go down without a fight ––– why become a god when she can usurp a titan's throne instead ? ' i want to take everything from him . i want to become more powerful than he ever thought i could be , and i want to overshadow him until he is nothing . i’ll do it with or without you . ' a gentle hand is placed on tybalt's shoulder as she turns to her brother , wearing bruises on her face like they are a symbol of newfound strength . this time , they do not find unity in their downfall but in their defiance of the man who has destroyed them , who has let them go to war against each other and tortured his chosen victor . now , ophelia's defiance may have cost her , but she paid the price of her own freedom gladly ––– she was born to bring war , and she will march in the direction of mount othrys with a thirst for power and an army behind her . ophelia lets herself dream freely , and she dreams of vengeance . ' i want to start the titanomachy . '















