#& cinder ultimately blacked out

[chaoticevilspacewitch]

RWBY Fanfic Recommendation List

Fics that have really struck me, vaguely organized by ship and/or topic.

Bumbleby (Blake x Yang)

first off, basically anything by pugoata. She's the goddess-empress of the Bees. I'm gonna give particular props to Banshee, as it was the first longer fic and AU that I read, and it really opened up my mind to what fanfic could be.

You're a Mountain, Full of Glory - a ski/snowboard with amazing characterization and a closing scene that will live rent-free in my head forever, in a good way.

They Can't Steal the Love You're Born to Find - childhood soulmates repeatedly torn apart and reconnecting, with courtroom drama. One of the most angst-ridden Bee fics I've ever read.

Fucking In Love - pornstar AU that gets right to the sex and slow burns the romance. Hot as hell while also full of tenderness and pining.

Midnight Menagerie - exotic dancer, kinda-cyberpunk dystopia AU. Edges you forever with the sex, earns all the angst tags, and we are majorly trusting @kaelidascope when she promises an amazing happy ending.

Bite Me Like You Love Me - one of the hottest Bee smutfics I've ever read.

You and Me - Blake discovers she's pregnant the day Yang goes MIA on a mission and struggles through being a single mother teaching their child about her amazing other mom. Short, happy ending, amazingly sweet.

You and Me, and One Hot Summer - tropical beach Bees. It's fun, and hella spicy!

WhiteRose (Ruby x Weiss)

The Foxtrot - Ruby and Weiss repair their broken lives after the war. It's one of the most popular RWBY fics of all time for a reason.

Can You See My Strings?/Deja Vu - premium mentally ill Weiss escapes from child abuse angst, with a happy ending if you read the sequel.

But Your Voice Used to Be Mine - Weiss escapes abuse to join RBY's punk band whose smash hit she inspired.

Just One Cigarette - Ruby and Weiss have a little meetup roleplay and it's really good.

Faunus Weiss (generally major themes of struggling with internal and external racism)

Craving the Sky - Weiss has painfully concealed her faunus heritage while she tries to earn her father's love. The support of her team, and the love of Blake and Yang (BeesSchnees) help her soar on her own.

Black Swan Theory - faunus Weiss struggles to recover from child abuse and navigate a deeply racist society while building a relationship with Pyrrha (Schneekos).

Clipped Wings - secret faunus Weiss, dealing with racism and abuse from Jacques, this time slow burning towards Pollination.

Villainesses

Melting Glace - Cinder and Neo find love, and no redemption, in the trauma of failing to destroy Beacon. Will make you cheer for them to win by the end.

Rise from the Ashes - Cinder has a Vader moment and saves Ruby from Salem, and Ruby's pure heart helps her heal, and their adversarial relationship turn to affection. Peak RWBY enemies-to-lovers.

Odds & Ends

The Bermuda Triangle - great modern AU BeesSchnees that gets filthy hot at the end.

Midnight Rose - Summer rescues and adopts Cinder out of Atlas. Their relationship, and Cinder coming to love the Xiao Long-Rose family, is beautifully depicted. Still very much ongoing (no ships as of yet).

Fallen Maiden - Jaune dies protecting Pyrrha at Beacon, and the Fall Maiden power remains split. Will Pyrrha's bloody crusade of vengeance consume her? Or, 'Pyrrha goes full Magneto and fucks Cinder up'.

What's In A Name? - Winter and May grow up together, struggling to cope with their feelings for each other against the background of the Atlas aristocracy.

Red Sky at Night - This excellently-composed fic has a hacked Penny as the primary antagonist of the Beacon arc and builds it to Nuts & Dolts. It captures both Penny's horror at being controlled in her own body and RWBY's fear in fighting a seemingly unstoppable enemy, almost like Terminator vibes, and ultimately takes it to a very sweet relationship.

Linked In Life and Love - I'd be remiss if I didn't mention this one. I really, really love the first act, where Team RWBY sees Blake suffering terribly through a surprise heat cycle and decides that they will all "help" her with it. It's sweet and tender and feels legit for them. I'm not a huge fan of where all the series has gone since, but I would invite anyone to judge that for themselves.

Sparks in the Dark - an Emerald/Penny/Ruby trio that's really masterfully done, exploring all three characters in very novel ways, and also doing great things with Salem and Cinder.

War Machines - a Penny/Ruby role-swap that follows Penny's adventures on team BXPS with Blake, Yang, and Weiss. It's very thoughtful and a good read as science fiction for its exploration of Penny's artificial personhood.

(As I see this getting a decent amount of traffic, I'll just point out that, if it's convinced you [correctly] of my impeccable taste in fanfic, you might want to check out my own RWBY writings)

[strqyr]

thinking about haven, ruby sounding just like her mother and that being enough for raven to open a portal so cinder can shoot a fireball at ruby.

it's a grudge thing. both raven and cinder have a grudge against a rose.

a different kind, of course, and for different reasons, but at its core... it's there. and when i think about cinder, being told by salem to not kill ruby but finding ways to circumvent her orders, ultimately succeeding with ruby falling into a black void, something everyone thought meant death...

it wasn't, though. ruby is back on remnant, same as ever but also different, in a way. a process has happened, even if it's not outwardly apparent.

then there's summer's mission that raven was present for. taking into account summer's attitude towards raven before the mission had truly even began, the way she was framed during the scene, and the way raven views summer in the present, safe to say something went terribly wrong between the two; their friendship completely broken as the result.

it doesn't really matter who started it, but if these parallels are intentional, my gut says summer—just as cinder's grudge against ruby began at the top of the beacon tower, summer shot first; "if you're going to shoot me, shoot me. that was insulting."

the fight ends just as it did between cinder and ruby at the bridge, with summer hanging above a pool of darkness, with raven the opportunity to take the high road, to be the bigger person, only to be the cause for why summer ultimately fell.

and maybe, had raven stayed around for longer, she might have seen summer crawl her way back out from what everyone believes to be a certain death. of course, there's always the possibility that raven knew afterwards thanks to her semblance, but we haven't been given any strong reason to believe raven has a bond with summer, no confirmation of any kind despite there being opportunities to do so.

in a way, i would find it poetic if she didn't. raven's semblance is so tied to her 'one save' rule (no matter how bullshit it may or may not be when push comes to shove) that there's something about her saving those she's bonded with, but the one person she isn't gets the opposite.

[sir-adamus]

I will never understand how Shane Newville can be called a hater. Yes, his letter did cause problems but he didn't do it out of malice or spite. It's so weird that so many people demonize him just because he wrote that letter 8 years ago. I even saw someone on Twitter once say Shane was never Monty's friend.

yeah i think it's mostly because of the letter being used as ammunition to attack the show, the crew and the fandom in its aftermath that Shane gets conflated with the virulence of the hatedom that followed, not helped by the title of the letter being a shade emotionally manipulative - 'to those who loved Monty' - and then his attitude throughout the letter where he posits himself as if he was Monty's only friend in the company (which was demonstrably untrue) and pinning Miles and Kerry (though not naming them, he uses their job titles so we knew who Shane was talking about) with the 'not following Monty's vision' label (especially in regards to cutting or changing fights because they didn't make sense or wouldn't have worked thematically; like Raven attacking JNPR for... some reason. or Adam and Yang having a full on fight before she lost her arm, or Pyrrha nearly beating Cinder... somehow, before getting killed because Jaune distracted her. if i recall he claimed Pyrrha was 'nerfed from being a badass fighter', and it just reminds me of the volume 1 director's commentary where they had to rein Shane in on the Black Trailer because he wanted Blake to cut the entire train in half) and acting like he was entitled to assume the director's position despite no indication he had even put his name forward for it

ultimately Shane comes across in the letter like he would've probably been happier working on Dead Fantasy over RWBY; he was in it to make cool fight scenes with Monty for fight scenes sake, not to make a show with a narrative throughline (that he utterly downplayed Miles and Kerry's involvement in writing the damn thing - which every behind the scenes featurette from the beginning had made a point of, especially volume 1's where Monty talked through his process of bringing others on - was again more ammunition people used to attack the crew and foster the 'Monty's true vision' narrative), and the letter was coming from a very skewed perspective as a result of grief and frustration (from internal and external factors; his marriage broke down, he lost his job) and while he doesn't put voice to it, his own actions as described in the letter make him come across as obstructive (very resistant to the changing of the team structure and workflow to a more professional standard) and a pain to work with (because he'd keep working on stuff that they weren't gonna do, like the aforementioned Raven vs JNPR fight, and was wasting time making tools for the new animators more familiar with Maya to use for Poser because he didn't want them to move to a new animation program after 3, if i remember rightly)

like, i don't think he wrote it in an attempt to fuel the hatedom or just to be an ass, and he did highlight some behind the scenes problems, it's just that it did end up doing a lot of damage and his skewed perspective doesn't really account for the issues he was creating or that he wasn't the only one impacted - but again, grief, frustration

it's now been eight years and i think we all should be well past it and just let sleeping dogs lie

[wasted-women]

ROUND 1B, MATCH 3 OUT OF 8!

Cause of Death & Propaganda Under the Cut:

Sky Young

Cause of Death: Disintegrated while attempting to save her friend/crush

Propaganda:

She literally only exists to be fridged, which is a shame because her death by probably the void would have made her an excellent tie-in champion for League. But no, she just gets dusted for Viktor’s character arc.

Her death was pointless aside from making Viktor feel guilty. Her whole character was that a) the was a brilliant scientist and b) that she was in love with Viktor and he didn't know. He was pursing dangerous magic for himself, and it's shown that the magic wouldn't have even killed him because he's now connected to it (through choice!). Sky died trying to save him from something that wouldn't have even killed him. Her death was literally just to make Viktor realise that the magic was bad/dangerous. Even though it clearly already was, but now it really is.

Princess Allura

Cause of Death: Sacrificed herself to save the universe

Propaganda:

The show has so so so many issues, but taking the black female lead and reducing her to a love interest and then killing her???? I never even got to the finale (bailed on the show seasons before) but I am still so fucking mad about this

The first case of fridging that many young girls saw.

Pyrrha Nikos

Cause of Death: Turned into dust after being defeated in battle

Propaganda:

Badass, powerful, beautiful. A warrior of virtue who tried to do the right thing. Was willing to risk having her entire personality overwritten in order to protect the world even though it scared her and conflicted with her ideals and concept of destiny. Everyone looked up to her. She was kind. She was smart. She was strong. She was one of the best characters in the show. And ever since she died, her death has only ever been brought up when it pertains to how it affects the one blond haired blue eyed author insert. Pyrrha deserved so much better.

There was SOOOOOOO much good build-up for Pyrrha's death. Like she's literally ACHILLES. With her trying to decide whether she should sacrifice herself to become the maiden or not and then when she finally decides to but it's taken away from her at last second when Cinder comes and kills Amber. How that contributes to her decision to fight Cinder even though it's certain suicide; that's sort of what she wants. She thinks she should have died before so she's going to fight Cinder to the death. And her final battle and ultimate death!!!! But then after her death happens we only see it in the lens of JAUNE. Like to an extent I get it because Jaune was close to her and he was the last person to talk to her. Him melting down the gold in her armor for his armor is a good moment. BUT ONLY JAUNE??? Volume 4 onwards, the only time we see any main character grieve it's always Jaune. RUBY LITERALLY IS THE MAIN CHARACTER AND THE PERSON WHO WITNESSED PYRRHA'S DEATH but she is barely given any screentime grieving!!! It's all Jaune and his manpain and how he is sad that she is gone and how they loved each other and it's like God give me a break. Even Pyrrha and Jaune's other teammates, Ren n Nora, never are given any screentime to grieve besides a quick second after Jaune looks at Pyrrha's statue. They don't even have a real good conversation about how fucked it was that Ozpin's team put Pyrrha in the situation that made her so suicidal in the first place other than outright dismissing it. For a show that loves to dissect and criticize Ozpin and his decisions they really didn't come back to that. Can a death retroactively become fridging? Because that's what this is.

[moltensmusings]

I have a question about your RWBY au: how would you handle teams facing consequences when making a big decision that backfires?

My problem with RWBY is that despite making choices that should had have consequences (telling government secrets to Robyn hill, pointing a gun at Whitney, agrus incident etc) the characters instead get rewarded for their actions.

What will you do differently?

I apologize because this got long and maybe veered a bit from the original question but here we go.

For a TL;DR: we need better world building, more apparent character flaws the narrative actively calls out, and villains to be dangerous

I think the main issue with why RWBY never had proper consequences, is that it largely operated (and still somewhat does) on rule of cool. Characters are powerful when the plot demands it in ways that kind of make the stakes feel nonexistent.

To properly implement consequences for characters we need to know what their flaws are and what they could get as punishment if those flaws aren't handled.

Our characters have some referenced flaws, but often times their flaws either never get checked because the writers don't view them as flaws needing to be fixed, or they're excused in canon. Bad things don't happen to them mainly because they mess up, they happen because bad people do bad things.

While pyrrha is the character I'm most annoyed about with the lack of depth, all of them are written to be cool and kind of flawless. So first step is I'd set up clear flaws from volume 1 and have them face consequences that will carry over long term. Here are some examples.

Ruby: For Ruby I feel like she tends to focus on handling things herself. She's incredibly self reliant to the point that she makes a lot of choices to do things solo that ultimately could get her killed. But the writers never go that far. She faces off against Cinder twice and leaves unscathed, if we're going to have her track Cinder to the tower, Ruby needs to leave wounded. Allowed to live because Cinder let her. Give her a scar that remains on her for the rest of the series. Maybe it's normally covered but it's a reminder of the dangers she faces. And even then we don't have to have her learn her lesson yet.

Yang is one where her consequences will effect the Atlas arc. Because I want her semblance to make her black out when she rages. Something she never focused on fixing because normally she could direct it before she blacks out so that the only person hurt is the one who caused the rage. Her teachers keep warning her of the damage she does to the area around her and how her black outs get longer the angrier she is. But she kind of waves it off because she's had this semblance for years and she knows how to deal with it.

However during the vytal festival when there are several competitions between schools and we build up a rivalry between team villain and team rwby we see her anger boiling. She's containing it and does a good job for a while, but the Mercury fight is the last straw. When she attacks Mercury its not just that she hits him once, in fact the villains new her rage made her black out and expected her to hit once. She downs him bad. She has to be restrained and the entire of remnant bears witness to her building rage culminating in her pummeling a kid from a different school. And when she attacks Adam that's once more her lashing out before thinking leading to her arm loss. When she travels she's met with wariness and fear because people know her as the girl that destroys.

Her six month hiatus is not just full of her wallowing over her arm, but angry over everything and raging out sporadically. I'd honestly give taiyang the same semblance as her being the one to help her train to properly control it. But the shadow of her actions won't disappear and people will try to exploit that weakness if she doesn't curb it.

For Blake it would be her being a traitor and running. RWY need their trust regained by her that she'll have to actively work towards doing so but it won't just be them. In Atlas Ironwood knows her past because he would've run checks on any people if interest and found her connection to Adam who was one of the people leading the attack on Beacon and subsequently also was the leader of a group that attacked Argus. Finding out she was a loyal follower of him almost her entire life means that she isn't let into the inner circle and in fact spends most of her stay in Atlas monitored and on probation. The group vouches for her but that can only pacify someone like Ironwood slightly.

For Weiss I'd have her actually be very loyal to authority figures in a way that often causes arguments between her team and her. In Atlas it would cause a major fight because if Yang were to spill secrets to Robyn, Weiss would probably avoid speaking to her for a decent amount of time. I think by that point she'd not outright tell Ironwood herself, but she would be furious at the disrespect. It would mean that more often than not, she's causing unnecessary disagreements in the group but it would also mean that she knows best how to handle people in places like Atlas.

Largely I'd just have a big focus on how dumb choices they make effect their relationships with people outside of the core group. Revealing secret information leads to Penny becoming very disappointed in them and a slight breakdown in the friendship. Potientially if Yang did it without talking to the others it now means Yang gets into a verbal fighting match with the rest of the gang because everything starts to go wrong.

Going off to fight things alone or not properly training means you get into situations that could maim or kill you. Trusting anyone too easily can result in someone dangerous entering your group with the intent to cause harm.

In general I'd really just focus on building flaws, turning down power levels at the start, and making the world and villains more dangerous. Also I think making each kingdom distinctly different in its politics and government could've helped make it so that the group trying to approach all situations the same backfires a lot. It's something I'd have to rewatch the show for to list specific instances of things I'd make consequences for but those are my current notes.

[turboacek-blog]

RWBY: Could Adam Taurus be redeemed?

First/Disclaimer: just want to say I’m not trying to excuse abuse or manipulation or any of the creepy awful things Adam has done I just think Adam is even more than Jaune could have been that 5th main (male) character that the show kinda keeps feeling it needs to have between Jaune, Oscar, and others as Adam has been an important figure and existed since the black trailer which makes him the third/fourth oldest character in the series

So Adam Taurus who was introduced as early as the Black Trailer was a character that many fans didn't like how he turned out by the end

In summary, he went from this mysterious powerful but low-empathy former partner of one of the main four girls (Blake) to some crazy ex-boyfriend who died in a sense to wrap up the racism plotline they had trouble writing and to ignite the ship between Blake and Yang

A lot of stuff missing but that's a summary

Many people have said Adam couldn't have been redeemed some even claiming that the redemption Adam could have gotten was given to a different character in Ilia as their background was similar but the difference being Ilia wasn't the person during Volumes 1-3 that had those actions tied to their name and was simply who they focused on to have that redemption in volumes 4-5

But I think one thing people forget or don't think matters is that-

Adam was forced to do many of his actions in Volumes 1 - 3 because of Cinder

For those that don't recall in Volume 3, we get a flashback that explains how Cinder recruited Emerald and Mercury along with them stealing part of the Fall Maiden’s power from Amber

But something that gets overlooked is that Cinder first came to Adam trying to get the White Fang's help which takes place prior to Volume 1 as we see Blake is with them still and Adam refuses then Cinder comes back later with the Maiden power and essentially forces Adam and the White Fang to join her

This means all the actions the White Fang have done from Volume 1 through 3 are because they're essentially hostages or slaves to Cinder and her faction

There are probably things I’m not recalling or thinking of

As you can say Adam seems ok with the actions and decisions in Volume 3 and while sure maybe that’s fair or maybe reaching, I would just also say Volume 4 and onward Adam is very different from the Black trailer through Volume 3 in that it doesn’t affect my thoughts too much on the idea of redemption

But even so, there are several things that are held against Adam in terms of writing a redemption for him

He stabbed Blake making the whole former lover/partner aspect hard to lean on for redemption, and he disarmed Yang so hard to see someone like that switch to the same side as Yang

And his reactions and decisions in Volume 4 and on,

Adam gets power crazy and now instead of getting approached and being forced and somewhat manipulated he now wants the power the bad guys have and is willingly teaming up with Hazel making his gray actions more black/white

This leads to him killing Sienna Khan and forcing the White Fang to do things that make them look worse and him going from a neutral/third party or antihero to another unredeemable villain

And then finally stalking Blake to the point where he's trying to kill her and it takes Blake and Yang to finally end him

So how would I redeem him?

So leaving Volumes 1-3 alone as he has to do the bad stuff to be redeemed in the first place

Blake and Adam have to interact in Volumes 4-6

This can just mean replacing Ilia with Adam in Menagerie or reworking Blake’s and Adam’s whole storyline to include having them interact more

I think Blake and Adam are two sides of the same coin

Both faced racism and it radicalized them to join the white fang to fight for Faunus rights

But whether because of their different backstories or Blake had that eye-opening experience and Adam didn’t they ultimately got on opposite sides

Blake was so against their actions she ran away and didn’t speak up for Faunus to the same degree as Adam

Adam was so into their actions he went even further and vocalized his wants even louder and bolder

And… the issue isn’t with Adam here it’s Blake

There’s the classic MLK and Malcom X debate but I think something that can make more sense to compare is the X-Men mutant debate of Professor X and Magneto

Whereas Professor X wants to work with the humans to co-exist in peace whereas Magneto wants to be either completely separate from them (hence Genosha) or to be the dominant species and in some cases kill them

Adam is definitely the ‘Magneto’ dominant species side but I don’t think Blake had the opportunity to be the Professor X in the dynamic imo

And I think it’s because they never had a chance to just talk without the Fall of Beacon, the Attack on Haven, and the Volume 6 fight in the way

Plus Blake’s own personal issues she had in Volumes 4-6

If there was a moment that Blake and Adam could talk without the threat of violence or trauma, Blake is someone that could have that debate with Adam similarly that Prof X and Magneto have in their Chess games/debates

Plus I think leaning into the idea that Blake and Adam are a young Charles and Erik but also exes sounds intriguing enough

Basically, Adam needs a foil to bounce off of before it’s too late, the closest is Hazel but also not really

I think you need a character to challenge Adam like Iroh to Zuko Zuko wants to be like his father and Azula but Iroh’s teachings and care are what made the turmoil interesting and redemption believable

Adam didn’t have anyone to even put any good ideas in his head so it’s natural he just kept falling down that path which kinda makes him tragic but also not really since we don’t really get those hints of goodness from him

Even if it’s not Blake at least all the time it can be a character or like Banesaw or Sienna or Ilia to at least plant some different ideas in his head

I don’t know how you would rewrite it as the volume 4&5 timeline is tricky enough to sort out

And while I personally liked the BlakexIlia stuff as of right now Blake’s (and Ilia’s) storyline seems to have the least amount of impact on the greater story of the four girls as Ruby is Ruby, Weiss Schnee family was very involved in volumes 7-8 plus now her sister is a maiden, and Yang while mostly personal growth had her story with Raven who is also a Maiden

The White Fang is currently a nonfactor and maybe it’ll pay off in volumes 10 & on but her storyline seems mostly to get Blake back in the right mindset write off the white fang and tell a redemption story even if it wasn’t Adam

So Adam arguably more important than most characters in the show should probably have been the focus for volumes 4-6 if we’re going to kill him off still

So redeeming him makes sense to me even though in the canon show he probably doesn’t deserve it

Plus I think we missed out on a lot of interactions with a good guy Adam or just more Adam in general like Adam and Weiss with the Schnee brand history, a good Adam creates love triangle stuff (I know people hate love triangles lol), Adam’s reaction to the lore of Maiden’s relics and such, a true fourth the JN_R since they don't really commit to Oscar being it, Adam in the atlas plot, what would Adam and Ruby even say to each other? etc…

[lilithfairen]

So, I spotted a RWDE blog with an interesting post, and since RWDE users hate people who'll voice disagreements with anything they say, I figure it's worth exploring on its own.

Said post was asking why Cinder would recruit the White Fang, a radical civil-rights group, for her planned attack against Beacon.

Now, Cinder specifically tells Adam that he's the one they're recruiting, for his skills and leadership. Not the White Fang in general, Adam Taurus himself. He refuses to work for them after her initial request, claiming that he will not have his men die for a human cause. After Cinder attacks his men and threatens Adam, he ends up working for her.

As we know from the end of V2, Adam doesn't actually give a shit about his men dying for Cinder's cause, even assuring her of more cannon fodder. You would think that Adam, if he did truly care about his men, would plot against Cinder in retaliation for the soldiers she attacked.

Remember that "The Beginning of the End" is about how Cinder recruited her allies for the Beacon arc. It starts with her luring Emerald to her side with promises of safety and security, then she seeks to hire known assassin Marcus Black, ultimately recruiting his son instead when she finds out Mercury killed Marcus. Mercury then leads her to Roman Torchwick, and then Cinder proceeds to Adam.

Cinder is specifically seeking out manipulatable, disreputable, criminal elements to recruit. One desperately wants to escape poverty, another is a trained assassin and victim of abuse, the third is a self-centered criminal...

...so do you think she sought out Adam Taurus because he was an honourable commander to his men and cause?

Nope, Cinder hired Adam because Adam being an asshole was a known quality. He played the part of revolutionary leader to his fellow Faunus, but (as mentioned in the V6 "Adam" short) he was already exhibiting his bloodlust and senseless violence. His followers saw him as someone who fought for them by any means necessary, and Blake never realized his true nature due to his emotional manipulation. Cinder, an outsider to the White Fang and Faunus, saw him as someone whose violent hatred made him easy to manipulate—just as Salem's minions continued to use Adam as their useful idiot following the Battle of Beacon.

[aurumacadicus]

There are still a couple weeks left to read Iron Widow, but we’re voting for our next book now so we have plenty of time to get it for the first day of reading on October thirtieth! Book summaries are under the cut! Each new title is in bold for clarity.

If you’d like to join the book club, now or for the next book, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll give you the link to our Discord!

The Amulet of Samarkand by Jonathan Stroud

Nathaniel is a boy magician-in-training, sold to the government by his birth parents at the age of five and sent to live as an apprentice to a master. Powerful magicians rule Britain, and its empire, and Nathaniel is told his is the “ultimate sacrifice” for a “noble destiny.”

If leaving his parents and erasing his past life isn’t tough enough, Nathaniel’s master, Arthur Underwood, is a cold, condescending, and cruel middle-ranking magician in the Ministry of Internal Affairs. The boy’s only saving grace is the master’s wife, Martha Underwood, who shows him genuine affection that he rewards with fierce devotion. Nathaniel gets along tolerably well over the years in the Underwood household until the summer before his eleventh birthday. Everything changes when he is publicly humiliated by the ruthless magician Simon Lovelace and betrayed by his cowardly master who does not defend him.

Nathaniel vows revenge. In a Faustian fever, he devours magical texts and hones his magic skills, all the while trying to appear subservient to his master. When he musters the strength to summon the 5,000-year-old djinni Bartimaeus to avenge Lovelace by stealing the powerful Amulet of Samarkand, the boy magician plunges into a situation more dangerous and deadly than anything he could ever imagine.

A Darker Shade of Magic by V. E. Schwab

Kell is one of the last Antari—magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black.

Kell was raised in Arnes—Red London—and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see.

Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they’ll never see. It’s a defiant hobby with dangerous consequences, which Kell is now seeing firsthand.

After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure.

Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they’ll first need to stay alive.

The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman

In a peaceful retirement village, four unlikely friends meet up once a week to investigate unsolved murders.

But when a brutal killing takes place on their very doorstep, the Thursday Murder Club finds themselves in the middle of their first live case. Elizabeth, Joyce, Ibrahim, and Ron might be pushing eighty but they still have a few tricks up their sleeves.

Can our unorthodox but brilliant gang catch the killer before it’s too late?

Just Like Home by Sarah Gailey

“Come home.” Vera’s mother called and Vera obeyed. In spite of their long estrangement, in spite of the memories – she’s come back to the home of a serial killer. Back to face the love she had for her father and the bodies he buried there.

Coming home is hard enough for Vera, and to make things worse, she and her mother aren’t alone. A parasitic artist has moved into the guest house out back, and is slowly stripping Vera’s childhood for spare parts. He insists that he isn’t the one leaving notes around the house in her father’s handwriting… but who else could it possibly be?

There are secrets yet undiscovered in the foundations of the notorious Crowder House. Vera must face them, and find out for herself just how deep the rot goes.

The Girl in the Letter by Emily Gunnis

A heartbreaking letter. A girl locked away. A mystery to be solved.

1956. When Ivy Jenkins falls pregnant she is sent in disgrace to St Margaret’s, a dark, brooding house for unmarried mothers. Her baby is adopted against her will. Ivy will never leave.

Present day. Samantha Harper is a journalist desperate for a break. When she stumbles on a letter from the past, the contents shock and move her. The letter is from a young mother, begging to be rescued from St Margaret’s. Before it is too late.

Sam is pulled into the tragic story and discovers a spate of unexplained deaths surrounding the woman and her child. With St Margaret’s set for demolition, Sam has only hours to piece together a sixty-year-old mystery before the truth, which lies disturbingly close to home, is lost forever…

Read her letter. Remember her story…

Cinder by Melissa Meyer

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless Lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth’s fate hinges on one girl. . . . Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She’s a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister’s illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai’s, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world’s future.

[sarahshoots1st]

The most tragically ironic thing about Ironwood's fall is that Salem likely had very little to do with it, at least originally.

His panic-induced breakdown is triggered by Cinder leaving the Black Queen on his desk - but Cinder was still a rogue agent at this point. She hadn't rejoined with Salem's forces after her near-death at the hands of Raven in V5. Her plan was to throw Ironwood into a panic, because she knew he would immediately respond by sending Winter to guard the Winter Maiden - and in so doing, leader Cinder right to her.

Cinder is acting completely on her own here - nothing she does is at Salem's orders. The only reason Salem is able to jump into this scene is because Watts' bag - which Ironwood recovered after he defeated the rogue scientist - had a Seer in it, so he could stay in contact with Salem while he was in Atlas. When the Seer bursts open and Salem appears, she is quick to push on Ironwood's fears - but we're never given a reason to believe she specifically planned for this interaction to happen. She's extremely good at improvising on the spot, but that's because she's had thousands of years to learn how to play off of people's fears. The alternative is to believe that she intended for Watts to be captured just so she could get a Seer in his office, which just seems too convoluted to be true. Especially considering that Cinder's actions proved how easy it would have been to sneak the handbag into the office without having to lose one of her top agents in the process.

In his state of panic, Ironwood ultimately out-thinks himself. He assumes his enemies are more coordinated and prepared than they actually are. He convinces himself that by protecting Mantle, he was playing right into Salem's hands - opening himself up to sleeper agents, tiring his forces thin trying to defend the citizens of Mantle, etc. But Salem never had any plans to capitalize on this. Her only plan was to send Watts and Tyrian to cause panic and fear in preparation for her arrival. If Ironwood had been more sound of mind at this point, he would have realized that going through with the evacuation made the most sense tactically. Concentrating his population in one area would have meant less ground for his forces to defend during the impending Siege of Atlas.

There were no sleeper agents hiding in the populace of Mantel - but it didn't matter. Ironwood saw threats everywhere he looked, and he let his fears blind him from reality. He tried out-think Salem, plan for every possible scheme she might devise, and in so doing did her work for her. She didn't have to concoct elaborate plans - all she had to do was apply some pressure, and let humanity destroy itself. Just like she always has.

In the end, the Tin Man was unable to find a heart - just like the Cowardly Lion was unable to find his courage.

[talonslockau]

Hi! As a fellow Warriors fan and animal lover, what did you think about the graphic novel adaptation of the first Warriors books?

Hi there! :D

As a fan of the series: I really liked it! I was very confused my first read about 'that random black cat that keeps showing up' until I re-read again and realized it was Mousefur, but I'm told that's a me problem xD The graphic novel had great art and I think the format definitely glossed over a lot of my problems with the early books (namely, pacing) as a reader. Also, I'm a Yellowfang x Bluestar truther, and I'm very pleased with the hints that they've given us so far.

As a rewriter: Overall, I quite liked the changes they made - none of it really affects the story outcomes, but it does make things fall into place a little better. Princess being there at the beginning (and being the one Firepaw talks to instead of Smudge) makes a lot more sense to develop their bond. I'm not expecting any significant changes that truly affect how the story plays out - though I'd certainly welcome it.

I know there was some discourse on Whiteclaw's death being removed, but I'm just gonna say it here - I also removed his death. The prophecy was correct in that it was a truly unnecessary death that didn't do anything for the plot. I saw arguments that Whiteclaw's death is the reason Leopardfur hates Graystripe so much, but honestly? She already hated Thunderclan anyways. Hell, she tries to kill Fireheart mostly because she can?? I don't recall if she knew whether or not he was Graystripe's friend at that point. There's also the argument that she drove Graystripe into Silverstream's arms, but there's other ways to do that.

I'm truly intrigued by the change to Frostfur's kits - originally Cinder, Bracken, Thorn and Bright, now Cinder, Bracken, Swift, and ???. I think it's Thorn, but I've also heard debate that it might be Mistle, who we know ends up dying. Either way, it's not Bright, who I'm guessing they moved to a different family to avoid some of the in-breeding issues that plague later books. I'm very curious to see what exactly they've done there, though of course we won't know until at least the second, if not the third.

I'm cautiously optimistic about future books, but I think that's ultimately going to be what makes or breaks my opinion of the graphic novels. There's Cinderpaw's injury, Snowkit's death, Silverstream's death... I'm fairly certain Cinderpaw is going to end up being a medicine cat, based on the scene with Yellowfang and the yarrow, but I hope that it's because she WANTS to be a meddy, not because she HAS to be one. Snowkit's death doesn't end up being consequential to the story, except for Speckletail's retirement, so I'm really hoping that they either omit him entirely (I think in this case, no representation is better than bad representation), or that he just dies some other way, like greencough. I've already stated my opinion on how he died, namely that it's not realistic and that it shouldn't have happened (and changed my story accordingly). I highly doubt they're going to un-fridge Silverstream, since her death is so integral to the plot, and I don't inherently mind that, since they still probably have to follow the general plot of the books. Still, this is as close to an official rewrite as we're going to get, and I hope that the authors are able to consider and change problematic elements as they come across them - especially considering they've already done so by changing Bright's parents.

Thank you for the question, I hope you enjoy the answer!

[collective-remnants-rwby]

Team RWBY Domain Expansions pt. 1

Succeeding this, I wanted to make Domain Expansions for RWBY characters, starting with the main team themself.

Also, these Domains are gonna be different than JJK Domains, as most of them won't be Lethal Domains. They're a reflection of the Semblance, and what the user generally wants to accomplish with their Semblance, which usually isn't killing. There is still a "sure hit" factor, though, along it with the user being unable to use Semblances afterwards, and leaving their Auras brittle and exhausted. It's a move of last resort, at least usually, and thus performed in conjunction with allies you can take advantage of the Domain's effects and aftermath.

Also, they're gonna be relatively simpler.

Ruby Rose: Red Like Roses

Red Like Roses takes the appearance of the winter clearing from the Red Trailer. Ruby can instantly de-materialize and re-materialize anywhere within, and the petals of Petal Burst would comprise her sure effect. Anything or anyone touch by her petals would be turned into a whirlwind of rose petals, spreading the effect until everything is rose petals or she releases the domain. Upon releasing the Domain, the whirlwind of rose petals would scatter in every direction.

But don't worry! This isn't fatal, as the petals would reform into their original forms in relatively short order, albeit discombobulated and possibly drained of Aura, with the one exception of this being Grimm.

Notes:

Her Semblance is definitely the epitome of scary, yet ultimately non-fatal. In fact, I can imagine her Domain being affected by her Silver Eyes, preventing her from actually developing a Lethal Domain. It can't destroy anything except for creatures of Destruction (The Grimm).

Weiss: Ice Sculpture Palace

Ice Sculpture Palace looks like the Foyer of Schnee Manor fused with a hall of mirrors, lined with statues of all her summons, with everything desaturated as if under the effects of time dilation. In fact, it may just be time dilation, as anyone caught in the Domain moves in slow motion, while Weiss and her army of summons move with enhanced speed.

Notes:

Weiss definitely has the most intricate Domain, as it's essentially inherited, though I think she might be able to change the setting.

Also, if anyone could manifest a Barrierless Domain a la Sukuna, it would be her.

Blake: Path To Isolation

Path to Isolation takes the appearance of a black void that subjects anyone caught in it to sensory deprivation and a falling sensation. additionally, when the Domain is released, the victims are hit with the sudden sensory overload, forcing their brains to reboot, given her a period of time to slip away. Additionally by shrinking her Domain and concentrating on a single target, she can make the effects more and more devastating, even possibly to the point of permanent injury or death.

Notes:

This Domain definitely would have been developed out of desperation during a dark period in her life.

With her healing journey, I can imagination her Domain changing, more and more, until it becomes something entirely different.

I'm gonna have to think about that more....

Yang: Full Burn

I described it earlier, but to restate and expand: Full Burn is a forest clearing, in fact, I would go as so far to say it's the same clearing on Patch that Red Like Roses is based off of, only in Summer instead of Winter. The sure hit effect affects any action she sees as aggressive towards her or her allies, igniting the kinetic energy and burning the aggressor, with the detonation's intensity corresponding to the intensity of the original act.

Now, I have pretty good ideas on JNR, Cinder, and Adam's DE abilities, and appearances for Cinder, Adam, and Ren, but I need to think up appearances for Jaune and Nora.

[prismaticpichu]

Gives Sephiroth a Cuahl kitten. It's a kitten, it's a monster, they could spar and take sun-naps together.

Dhhdhxhzhdh YES!!!! JUST YES!!

*BOTW cooking theme as she writes*

Aight so this got dark quickly. Ain’t that fun <333 But I promise it’s only an uphill movement!

Sephiroth stumbled upon this little guy while on a mission. It is a monster extermination assignment—an easy, swift transition between Wutai updates and Avalanche sightings. The assignment itself went just as swiftly. The area was cleared within minutes, not a materia needed. It was over. Done. Time to return to HQ.

Until he heard the mewing.

What laid behind a rock, nestled in the grass like a feathery cradle, was a baby Cuahl. It couldn’t be any bigger than two fists side-by-side, its fur sandy and speckled with tiny black stars. And it was alone.

The color drained from Sephiroth’s face.

One of the monsters… it had been a Cuahl. It had been the most aggressive out of all of the monsters—and now for good reason. It had a kitten to protect. It had. Sephiroth gaze rattled down to the animal, hovering in his body. He had orphaned it. He had taken away its… its mother.

Oh dear Gaia… its mother.

The thought was so cruel, so unbelievably visceral in his chest. Sephiroth dared to look back at the kitten, into its eyes… two shining emeralds, two slit pupils that quivered in the water.

No… NO.

He… he had made a mirror of himself, had passed on his pain like a baton—if he didn’t he mean to, he did.

He felt like the monster.

No… no he had to fix this. He couldn’t leave this animal here, all alone and orphaned. Not as a SOLDIER. Not as a person. He knew that pain all too well—the hollow cavern in his chest whenever he walked through the city, the yearning call for protection that wailed and clawed at his heart. It was all he ever wanted as a child. Maybe he still did. The Cuahl’s mewing continued to ripple through the air.

Sephiroth lowered to his knees, scooping the quivering kitten into his arms.

“Shh… It’s okay. I will take care of you.”

…

(Can we, like, change the music around here? Ok? Ok cool!)

Sephiroth was unwaveringly protective of his new friend. He never let him out of his sight, collecting days upon days of vacation time in order to nurture him, keeping him sheltered in his room. A blankie sufficed as a bed for a few days, until Sephiroth ultimately had to bite the bullet and head to the pet store—to which he returned with the softest, squishiest bed they had, a little baby bottle, and a whale’s worth of toys. Something glows inside of Sephiroth’s chest as he sat on the edge of his bed, holding a bottle of warm milk in one hand as Kitty sips away. There’s a fondness in his eyes that had never been there, a ripple in the Mako-green that he didn’t know was possible. And when his friend curled up to him afterward, purring into his chest, the mews ebbing away like cinders… Sephiroth didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Days melt by in a similar fashion, kitty sleeping most of the day while Sephiroth works from a laptop—although most of the tabs are dedicated to The Proper Care and Feeding of Monster Cats. It was time for wet food soon!

“Kitty… Dinner.” Sephiroth shook the bowl of food, trying to get his buddy’s attention away from… was that his book? He set the bowl on the floor and slid the book from under his feet, watching as Kitty plopped onto his bed as a result. As Sephiroth chuckled, stroking his head, it occurred to him that “Kitty” probably wouldn’t do forever. Kitty deserved a proper name. Just as anyone else. He glanced down at the book in his hands—The Art of War, of course, a staple for any self-respecting man of combat. One did not need to be Wutain to follow in the great geneal’s footsteps.

Sephiroth hummed thoughtfully, keeping his hand tangled in the velvety fur.

“Would you like your dinner, Sunzi?”

With Genesis and Angeal as friends, nothing is a secret for very long. Genesis came slamming at the door, demanding to know where he was, demanding to know why he skipped sparring on the Sister Ray, demanding—

Oh. Sephiroth’s standing in the doorway cradling a cat and smelling like canned fish and lint. They see.

Genesis initially cackled, while Angeal almost melts at an embarrassingly fast rate. And Sephiroth honestly just wanted them out there. He took a step back as Genesis came closer, clutching Sunzi tighter. No one had ever touched Sunzi besides him. He didn’t know if he was ready. Eventually, though, both his friends calm down, and they end up being a huge help to the kitty. Genesis found an especially glamorous collar for him to wear (with a bell, thank you!) and Angeal offered to make some home-cooked fish. There was still one thing nagging Angeal’s mind, however.

“Sephiroth… you are aware that this is a monster, right? Why not get a domestic cat?”

Sephiroth went silent. “Coming, Hojo!” he shouted suddenly, and left his friends to be with the cat.

More days go by, then more weeks, then more months. Sunzi grew at a rapid rate, growing from collar to collar, and it became apparent that he couldn’t simply be a housecat anymore. He needed more space. More adventure. And he was capable of it too! By the time a year passes, Sephiroth began training Sunzi personally—carefully sparring and battling simulations of other monsters. It wasn’t long until he is a skilled, trained warrior cat, who ended up assisting Sephiroth on every mission they go on. He was exceptional at scaling surfaces to find Materia stones and can chase down any spy they come across. Photos are flashed and articles are written, and Sunzi’s domestic class quickly escalated to that of a hero. ShinRa tried to capitalize on the fame, but Sephiroth STRICTLY refused. No one else would ever receive the cruel mascot treatment as he had.

One night, when Sephiroth is in bed, Sunzi smushed against him, he swore that he saw what looked to be the vague shape of a mother Cuahl. She was standing at the foot, all green and translucent, bowing her head. And if Sephiroth didn’t know any better, he would say that she was smiling.

Even if it was just a dream, the man smiled back. “Thank you.”

[ikosburneraccount]

I’m the anon from earlier, thanks for correcting your mistake. I understand you didn’t realize what happened but the fact that you owned up to it means a lot because most blogs would’ve blocked me out of cowardice. It’s nice to see someone else standing up against the racism in this fandom especially from big blogs like IS (who really butchers asian culture in her writing, btw, idk why we’re letting yt people write fanfic in this fandom.) i’ve been in fandom spaces for 10 years now and as far as racism goes TLC is by far the worst considering most people still don’t even accept that the MC is asian. I’ve hated TS for years for her casual racism and the white supremacy themes/narrative implicit in her music and the fact that this fandom idolizes her is disappointing, but not surprising. No, Cinder would not listen to a deeply bigoted woman who openly and unapologetically condones violence against black women and hates jewish people. TS is more like Levana than any other tlc character. Anyways thank you again for taking me srsly and correcting your mistake.

OFC ANON!!!! Your ask was so informative and held me accountable (and let me know that some Swiftie blogs could still engage with my posts without my knowledge/consent). I will definitely be moving forward differently because of your ask, thank you so so so much <3

I don't block anons but I do delete anon hate from Swifties. And I KNOW the Tumblr culture that you're talking about, I've also been here for a while (10 years now). But I want to subvert that culture with my blog and with how I respond to my asks. I would rather take the time to respond and explain than be reactive, because 1) being reactive doesn't reflect well on me and the point I'm trying to make and 2) Engaging with anons with a thoughtful response makes them feel respected and validated regardless if we agree or not. I never want people to feel stupid, ignorant, or dumb by my responses, and that is never my intention as well.

Thank you for acknowledging and feeling the same way about the fandom racism. I do feel a bit isolated and lonely sometimes knowing a majority of the fandom are TS fans, but I remember that I would rather get 0 interactions on a post then engage with racists. And anons like you only validate my point that I'm not the only person who feels this way, I'm just the most vocal. I'm genuinely happy you feel seen and heard and feel this blog is a safe space to talk about fandom racism, because I do want people to ultimately feel safe as TLC fans of color to come and talk to me about how they feel. Despite being a small fandom, we still need safe spaces like this as we, tlc fans of color, can feel/have felt alienated by the overwhelming white presence of this fandom.

(And I think it speaks for itself when, after I blocked all swifties following my page, a majority of people who still follow me are other people of color.)

Talking about TS means talking about racism and people seem to elide the fact that I am hurt by their continued support for TS. Like that's the main point of racism, you're engaging in a power dynamic that reinforces the marginalize and violence towards marginalized and exploited communities. People don't understand that being born as and existing as a person of color is a political statement that we cannot evade but actively informs and filters our lives. And when people engage with open racists like TS, it reinforces the marginalization of people of color.

TLC racism is on a different level, but then again, this is the same fandom that where cresswell, a relationship between a 16 and 20 y/o is its second biggest ship :/ Like clearly people don't care about anyone they hurt as long as they can ship their faves. And yes, the race wars when it comes to Cinder racial/ethnic background are INSANE. It really has to do with the fact that a majority of white women see Y/A heroines as their self insert so Cinder not being white disrupts this assumptions and it's the same reason Cress is so popular. I was active in the TLC fandom back in 2014-16 and there was so much discourse about Cresswell (p*d* ship discourse) and about Cinder's race/ethnicity. I 100% agree with you that TLC fandom is one of the WORST fandoms in YA because of their extreme racism towards the Cinder and other main characters (the way I tear up when I see Black!Annabeth fan art being celebrated...why can't people here act correctly sometimes 😭).

I thought IS is Asian(Chinese)-Australian? Please correct me if I'm wrong though, I was just under this impression from how they responded to asks on their blog. If they're actually not Asian/Chinese-Australian I'm actually even more disgusted with their fanfiction now. But it also explains a lot.

"I’ve hated TS for years for her casual racism and the white supremacy themes/narrative implicit in her music and the fact that this fandom idolizes her is disappointing, but not surprising."

Anon you have NO idea how much I want to be your friend right now. YOU PUT HOW I FEEL PERFECTLY INTO WORDS. This is the EXACT issue I have with TS and why she attracts such racist, bigoted fans while still appealing to her liberal fanbase. She encodes her music with white supremacist messaging and simultaneously posits herself as liberal by perverting feminist ideology to deflect accountability for the harm she's caused. She is the PERFECT white woman because she straddles the apolitical white line to maximize her (white) fanbase. She's an evil person but a commercial and marketing genius, and because white supremacy reinforces the paradigm that wealth equates to good moral character, TS is consistently defended as a good person when she literally isn't. At all.

So that's why my original response to your ask was really weird because I couldn't tell if you were pro/anti-TS but still answered anyways just in case, you know? I'm glad to know that you aren't pro-TS and there are other people recognize the racist and white supremacist undertones of her music.

"No, Cinder would not listen to a deeply bigoted woman who openly and unapologetically condones violence against black women and hates jewish people."

If TS existed in the third era she would be bigoted towards cyborgs and lunars, point blank period. People thinking the TLC main characters would be swifties or love TS is 100% a projection of their whiteness (or delusional, or both) and basic misunderstanding of how PoC face and deal with overwhelmingly popular racist white artists. Also, I have so many thoughts on calling the Lunar people "the Lunar race" in both canon and fandom. That's definitely MM's whiteness not fully understanding how race is constructed and her white vision of a post-racial futuristic society. I could speak about that for hours (but that isn't the purpose of this post).

Also you aren't being dramatic with the TS Levana comparison. That's spot on: she literally manipulates people with her victim narrative despite being 33 years old and is able to make people forget the harm she causes with the amount of content she produces. TS since her debut has never taken direct accountability for her racist actions (like the antisemitic 2009 MTV photo where she poses with a guy wearing a swatstika t-shirt and her PR team justified the photo as her "not knowing." She was FIFTEEN).

I can literally write a completely separate post linking every single article by topic of all the racist and suspicious actions she's done and taken both as an artist and person, but this is a TLC blog and I want to focus on TLC content first. This isn't a dig towards you, nanny; this is just me saying I cannot be 100% responsible for educating people on TS racism, because it is a lot of emotional and time-intensive labor.

I hope this post makes sense. This was super heavy and took me a couple hours to write because you brought up so many brilliant points and I wanted to breakdown a proper response. Seriously, this has been my favorite ask so far. Anon, you are now my friend!

[anomalocariscanadensis]

something in elden ring that i think we're undertheorizing is flame. there are so many distinct kinds of flame.

the flame of ruin (orange/red), from the forge atop the mountain of the giants. associated with the one-eyed fell god of the giants. noted for its ability to burn the erdtree and thus deeply forbidden within the golden order. once guarded by the fire giants, it is now guarded for the golden order by the fire monks as well as the last giant, who also worship it due to its beguiling allure. prophets of the golden order sometimes glimpse it within the faith, prophesizing the burning of the erdtree, at which point they are banished.

the flame of frenzy (yellow/orange). the frenzied flame is the influence of an outer god (which can be held off by miquella's needle). its presence is said to have originated with shabriri, "the most reviled man in history". his eyes were gouged out for the crime of slander, but were eventually replaced by the flame of frenzy. it's considered a sickness, can spread from person to person, and causes blindness as the eyes turn into oozing "grapes". it afflicted the nomadic merchants of the Great Caravan, who, in one of the great atrocities of the golden order, were rounded up and buried alive en masse in the sewers - either to bury the maddening disease with them, or because of their heretical beliefs, depending on who you ask (these may be the same thing). in their rage and despair, they chanted a curse and summoned the flame of frenzy. it's not clear whether the three fingers were already frenzied and buried with them, or if their curse made the three fingers what they are today, but at this point the three fingers are the primary source of frenzy in the lands between. its followers shabriri and hyetta seem to be disembodied, incarnating by possessing and resurrecting the bodies of the dead. it allows the tarnished to serve as kindling themselves, rather than needing to burn a maiden; vyke the dragonspear took this deal but didn't end up burning the erdtree. the ultimate goal of the frenzied flame is to melt away all fractures and distinctions, ending the "mistake" of births and souls and all the suffering of the world. any connections with the crucible are unclear, but it's understandable why it would be invoked primarily by those who face unspeakable suffering at the hands of the powers of the world.

the godslaying black flame (black/white), associated primarily with the godskin apostles, who served an empyrean known as the gloam-eyed (or synonymously dusk-eyed) queen. she apparently raised them from birth to kill the gods; the most ancient of the apostles "assimilated inhuman physiology. not unlike the crucible, the erdtree in its primordial form". the gloam-eyed queen was associated strongly with destined death, and was defeated by maliketh. when he sealed the rune of death, the true power of the black flame was lost. however, some of the fire monks who guard the flame of ruin were apparently enthralled by it and turned traitor to their post, or perhaps fled the flame of ruin and swore fealty to the black flame out of cowardice. it is said to be "weighty", and drains a percentage of the hp of those it burns for a short time after the initial burn.

ghostflame (grey/white), produced by burning the dead. bitterly cold. primarily associated with the ancient pre-erdtree death rites of the deathbirds, who burned the dead in kilns and raked out their ashes. vengeful spirits arose from the cinders of those ashes. their magic was resurrected by the necromancer garris, who is implied to have murdered his own family for power. ghostflame is not exclusive to the deathbirds' rites, though, as the company of the hawk who explored the eternal city were forced to resort to burning the bones of their dead companions, which also produced ghostflame (and forced them to stay trapped underground for some reason).

bloodflame (red/orange), which causes its burn victims to bleed. it originates with an outer god known as the "formless mother" or "mother of truth" and is primarily used by mohg and his followers. she is said to crave wounds. those who follow her can reach into "her body" and draw bloodflame out of thin air, which could suggest she is immanent throughout the world, but mohg apparently stood before her deep underground, which suggests she has a physical location. when he did so, his "accursed blood" erupted with fire. the only instance of bloodflame not directly connected with mohg is the weapon art of morgott's cursed sword, which was formed from the accursed blood morgott "recanted and sealed away". the omen connection is interesting but very unclear.

magma, from mt. gelmir. associated with the volcano itself, of course, and the ancient blasphemous serpent which lives there and which might one day devour the world. rykard brought the ancient gelmir magma hexes back into modern practical usage. the recusants of volcano manor are blasphemers who hope to burn the erdtree; they were besieged by the fire monks in one of the most brutal battles of the shattering. those who delve too deep into dragon communion become magma wyrms. the heroes rykard devoured became vengeful rancor spirits, in what seems to be a magma-imbued form of ghostflame. rykard's sword also conjures "blasphemous flames" which have faith scaling (like the flame of ruin)

the flame of wraiths/omens (black core/gold edges). appears on morgott's sword in his second phase once his omen curse is unleashed, and in the form of wraiths summoned by the wraith calling bell and omen bairn items as well as omen enemies. wraiths are said to be the vengeful spirits of those who died while cursed. the wraith calling bell is used by the worshippers of revenants; i don't know jack about where revenants fit in the lore but they look like some fucked up grafting shit. could mean anything

the flame of death blight (gold core/black edges). appears on the weapons of mausoleum knights and the eclipse shotel, and thus associated with dead demigods. interestingly, though the mausoleum knights resurrected some of the deathbird rites, they do not use ghostflame.

the rune of death fire (red/black) inflicted by the black knives and maliketh's black blade. the black knives are explicitly referred to as "godslaying" (which, well, they did) and the rune of death is destined death, so it's not clear how this differs lore-wise from the black flame wielded by the apostles. saps a percentage of hp like blackflame and additionally reduces max hp on the target

normal fire (you know what this looks like). the redmanes use it to hold off the scarlet rot. the fire breathed by your average dragon doesn't seem to be especially associated with any gods or forces so maybe it's just normal fire too? or maybe it's its own thing. idk. there are campfires also

that glintstone magic fire thing a couple dragons do. doesn't have any lore afaik

"the flame of ambition" as morgott says. probably just metaphorical

i'm sure i could read incredibly deep into all this and come up with a whole theory of how it's connected which would shape everything else in the entire lore but i do not have the mental energy for that rn

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

Hmm...I dunno.

I feel like something that's been bothering me is that I feel like RWBY is as much about questioning the idea of treating life as a fairy tale.

When we hear about Fairy Tales, as is portrayed by RWBY, it's sometimes seen as either a silly fantasy, or as a necessary morality tale, or as a righteous path to be followed.

Or in the case of Ozma, a means to try to piece together and frame his life and the neverending misery he's in.

But the point about RWBY I've come to the conclusion about is that it's a story that actively questions why we treat people's stories as a fairy tale AT ALL.

Not every story should be so black and white, or at the least it shouldn't be treated so black and white. And it feels like the story is going out of it's way to question why we're so keen on shoving the story into the narratively black and white moral framework of a fairy tale, when it's plainly clear that life isn't a fairy tale at all.

Life is consistently portrayed as messy, complicated, where people can take the wrong meanings from other people's stories, or find inspiration in ways that can be seen by others as overlooking the complicated nature of what really happened.

Take Pyrrha. Her mom framed her ultimate sacrifice as something positive, that she knew what she needed to do and everything.

But the actual Pyrrha was a complicated mess of a person who was put into a terrible situation where there wasn't really a good answer at all. It was no fairy tale, but a tragedy where the moral wasn't straightforward, if it existed at all.

Fairy Tales boil things down to easy morality tales with good and bad examples, while often times conflating or removing the nuances of the situation entirely.

I dunno if I'm doing a good job explaining this or not.

With that in mind, reducing Neo's situation (and arguably even Salem and Cinders' situation) to being a bog-standard "they will be proven completely wrong and used as the bad example in a fairy tale" situation doesn't sit right with me. Because I think the actual situation is going to be substantially more complex than we give it credit for.

Oh it's definitely going to be more complex. It's Neo herself who will simplify it, because that's what she's always done. She took the entire millennia long battle between Salem and Ozma and turned it into her personal revenge story. She repeatedly refuses to consider other people as their own agents and not supporting characters to her protagonist. So of course she's going to decide she's The Hero and ironically condemn herself to the role of minor villain. It's what she's always done.

And while RWBY is more complicated than fairy tales, it is not a stranger to bad examples. Pyrrha dying because she went off on her own, Ironwood dying because he tried to hold up Atlas alone, Ozma dying over and over and over because he wouldn't trust people. The moral of how dangerous it is to see yourself as a lone hero is repeatedly stressed. And I highly doubt Neo is going to break the streak, especially since she's effectively used her Semblance to become her own friends and cut off everyone else. Her character arc and the tone of the story don't support her suddenly getting to cheat her way past the character development the tree demands.

[siennasfix]

Pareidolia

Chapter 2 "Watchful silence"

*****

<<<Chapter 1 Chapter 3>>>

Trigger warnings: 1. Funeral 2. Smoking weed 3. Mentions of starvation 4. Human experimentation

Each resident of Camp Jupiter was within their right to request how they wished to be buried. Their individual choices were largely influenced by the customs of the empire over which their Godly parent presided, which served as a marker of identity even in death. Greek demigods and legacies almost always chose to have their bodies turned to cinders; their ashes preserved in urns. It was up to their family and friends to choose whether to keep or scatter them to a site of their choosing. The offspring of their Roman counterparts most often opted for inhumation, despite the practice having been just as commonplace as cremation, and there were cemeteries and catacombs designated to hold the remains for eternity. 

Ruth Velasco, daughter of Mercury, had done no such thing so the decision had been left up to her siblings. Ultimately, they resolved to have her buried in the catacombs beneath the temple of Mercury on Temple Hill. The news had spread like wildfire and it wasn’t hard to understand why. A girl of twenty was found impaled on the statue of the ruler of the pantheon, her corpse violated. 

The picture on the front page of Noctua Mane, Latin for Morning Owl, was nothing like the one Y/n had seen the night of the murder. Sweet smile, eyes that sparkled with good-natured mischief, olive skin, light brown eyes and arched eyebrows, and straight black hair tucked behind her left ear. She was the picture of joy. Or had been. 

Now she was a girl whose life had been taken too soon, her corpse lying frozen in the morgue of the underground laboratories of the CIH, Criminal Investigation Headquarters. Somewhere, in another mortuary cabinet, lay the corpse of Juliana Pierce. Both of them were kept from the warmth of the soil so that the experts might produce some worthwhile evidence to conclude the investigation with satisfactory results. What that entailed remained a mystery to everyone but the members of the Council.  There was nothing for Olympia University to do but pay their respects in the Hall of Ceremonies.

On any other day, Y/n might have taken the time to appreciate the grandeur of it all. It was immaculate, down to the most minute particulars. The Hall, a building in and of itself located 300 meters in the northeast, stood somewhat separate from the rest of the campus and the Training Center. Gardens of the most delectable fragrances and topiaries in the shapes of the most common perceptions of the Gods, celestial creatures, and animals associated with divinity made for an ethereal ambiance. Even today, the pelt of grief, in which the hearts of Ruth Velasco’s loved ones were engulfed, was not in the least reflected in their surroundings. The water pouring from the beaks of two marble swans in love remained clear, the surface of the water in the fountain before the front steps of the building unperturbed. 

The interior evoked a different feeling. Significant effort had been made to convey the grief be it through the roses and violets lining the walls or the black drapes with those same flowers embroidered on them. The cushioning of the chairs, too, was black. Of course, the banners adorned with the Caduceus symbol, representing Mercury and Hermes, could not be missing from the ceremony. So large were they that the entire length of each column was concealed by the fabric. 

Truly, Y/n would have loved nothing more than to sit in her chair and admire the intricacies of the edifice but how could she when the only things on her mind were the events of that night and the conversation she’d had with Luna before stepping out of the house? She’d made a repeat of the conversation this morning as well. 

“Remember,” Aside from her voice, the sound of the zip of the green padded jacket coming up to Luna’s neck was the only one in the room, “Don’t talk about what you saw. Just don’t talk about it. Don’t mention it. If anyone asks anything related to it just say you feel bad that she died. Tell them she was so pretty, like a princess. Okay?” 

Luna had nodded and her gaze had fallen on the place where Y/n’s fingers met the jacket. 

“What- what if they take me?” Her little sister had said in a shaky voice. “What if they don’t let you take me home? Then I- then I- 

  “No, no, little moth,” Y/n had wrapped her arms tightly around her little sister’s shoulders and patted her back to calm her nerves (the past few days had been brutal for Luna). Then, she draped her scarlet scarf around the girl’s neck. “No, they won’t do that. They can’t do that because you’re innocent. See, you haven’t done anything wrong. You just saw something you shouldn’t have seen, something no one should have to see. But you were here, in our bedroom, and I was lying on the floor next to you. I’ll tell them that and no one will be able to hurt you.” 

By now Luna’s chest is rising and falling rapidly and Y/n can feel each movement against her torso. 

“But what if they don’t believe you?” She asked, fingers curling around Y/n’s jacket. “Then they’ll really take me away.” 

“I won’t let them, though,” Y/n said, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop them. 

It had taken a few minutes but eventually, Luna’s breathing had returned to normal and they’d headed out the door, Luna in her padded green jacket, worn-out jeans and shoes, and Y/n in Olympia’s official uniform of dark sienna. The moist March wind had caressed their cheeks as they made the one-hour walk toward Luna’s school and when they had had to part ways at the towering gate of steel, for fear of showing up late for the ceremony, Y/n had squeezed the small hand one last time before ushering her inside. Those big brown eyes had glanced back one last time as she’d waved goodbye, trying to freeze some joy onto her face for the sake of the scared little girl. Then, she’d smoothed over the knee-length skirt that seemed a bit larger each time she tried it on, secured the pin on her chest, empty though it was, and set off for Olympia. Tardiness, justified or otherwise, would only arouse suspicion. 

Professor Philomena Laqueus, daughter of Athena, head of Olympia University’s Academic Board, a senior Overseer, and an esteemed member of the Council of Rome, ascended the steps to the raised platform at the end of the Hall that allowed her an unobstructed view of each Cohort. Her appearance was enough to bring Y/n’s thoughts to a screeching halt. With her graying frizzy hair, strong jaw, and the gold and royal purple paludamentum draped over her muscular shoulders the woman was nothing if not overwhelming. The rest of her outfit was the same as that of the academic personnel seated behind to the right and the student body; a dark sienna, with the identification pin attached to the jacket on the left side of her wide chest. But she made it all the more unnerving; an exalted slaughterhouse. 

As a sign of respect, each student stood. After a few moments of sweeping her gaze across the hall, the woman raised her hand for them to take their seats. 

“Today,” Her voice had a heavy yet tremulous quality to it, not raspy like most would assume at first glance, and each word sounded like a boulder being flipped on its side. “We gather to bid farewell to Ruth Velasco, daughter of Mercury and member of the Second Cohort.” Y/n glances three rows to the right just as Professor Laqueus gestures to them. Some appear distraught. Others wear a mask of unflinching marble. The woman addresses the rest of the student body once again. “Miss Velasco’s kind and amiable disposition earned her the admiration of her peers and betters as she approached every obstacle with unwavering perseverance. Her courage and reverence for the Divine Rule of the Pantheon were profoundly inspiring, serving as a lasting testament to what a demigod ought to strive for. For this reason and her inestimable attributes, her absence will be felt deeply by all who knew her, even if in passing.” Her gaze slides across the hall in an almost wolfish manner, as though scouring every inch for the faintest trace of guilt. “Thus, we bid a solemn farewell to a compassionate person whose true potential was never fully realized, whose hopes and ambitions will remain unfulfilled as time moves forward towards a brighter tomorrow. But that is not to be an omen to a sorrowful ending to all things. Although her absence is profoundly felt, it may bring solace to know that her legacy can be enriched by those who have the means to do so. As a parting tribute, we make this vow to her.” 

It was at that moment, as Philomena Laqueus uttered the final sentence of her speech, that Y/n felt eyes stalking her every breath. 

“Though her flesh and bones may lay buried,” The grounding cadence of the woman’s voice drove each word home, “The truth shall crawl to light.” 

Y/n wished she’d never craned her head to find the source of her discomfort. Four rows to her right, where the members of the First Cohort sat proudly in their black chairs, dark eyes pierced through the hundreds of students filling the distance between them. How she wished she had not picked this seat that was neither at the front nor in the far back but somewhere in between, because if she had, he wouldn’t have found it so easy to stare at her without raising some eyebrows. She meant only to glance at him but the moment their eyes met, she found herself holding his gaze. While she could feel cold sweat pooling down her back, he remained unabashed and unfaltering. He was dressed the same as the rest of the male students. His hair was in a half-up half-down style, with a few strands at the front framing his face. He looked like the only thing he had running through his veins was stardust and needed to draw blood to seem human. 

Not wishing to be at the receiving end of his pursuits, Y/n turned around, swallowed, and tried to focus on the farewell speeches of the leaders of the Second Cohort, Choi Soobin, the only son of Jupiter, and Hwang Yeji, daughter of Victoria. No word stuck in her brain. Everything was an amalgam of parting words, sniffling, and silence so solemn and disquieting that Y/n found herself shifting in her seat, hands fisted on her lap. More cold sweat beaded on her forehead. It felt as though every gaze was on her, hammering guilt into the pin on her chest. The dread of being perceived as suspicious had her heart threatening to shatter the constraints of her ribcage. Over the course of several speeches delivered by Ruth Velasco’s loved ones, scenarios spun in her mind; of escape, imprisonment, torture, and execution. Not once did she imagine herself or Luna being saved. 

When the ceremony came to an end, it took tremendous willpower not to bolt for the exit. She forced herself to picture their eyes narrowing in suspicion, their castigatory stares, and the disdainful curl of their lips if she were to let her panic take over. This was how she kept herself from shoving her way through as the other members of the Fifth Cohort made their way out of the hall. 

Once they were out in the gardens, she decided to put some distance between herself and the rest. The topiaries were of various sizes. Some were the size of a poodle while others grew up to six meters. It was behind one of the latter that she found some solace, shaking as she massaged her knuckles. As if that would force her anxiety into submission. 

Y/n could hear the students gathering at the front of the edifice while others headed back to the main building. Lectures didn’t start until 10:30 so they could afford to loiter about the grounds in the meantime. What she hadn’t considered was that other students would seek comfort in the gardens as well (she’d gone fairly deep within the labyrinthine structure after all) especially close enough for her to catch snippets of their conversation. Following the direction from which the voices were drifting, she at first estimated a distance of around five meters to her left. But upon gathering some of her wits about her, she realized it was the shadows telling her. The students, males by the sound of it, were standing in the shade of a topiary two rows behind her and likely at a far greater distance. If she made no noise, they would probably not realize someone was eavesdropping. Not that she was doing it on purpose. 

“Was her corpse really missing the eyes?” One of the boys said, making no great effort to be discreet. “Or was that just a rumor?” 

The silence stretched for a few seconds and Y/n could hear everything from the wind whispering in the dense forest beyond the garden to the leaves brushing against fabric as one of the boys leans against the topiary. When the response did come, it was in a voice so velvety and euphonious that she found herself pressing her left ear into the bush. The effect should have concerned her, but it didn’t. 

“Yeah, her eyes had been gouged out.” 

The first boy muttered a ‘damn’ before pulling something out of the pockets of his uniform. It sounded like paper. 

“The killer must have taken them before fleeing. Since they weren’t found at the crime scene.” He laughed a little before continuing, “The CIH better pray the fucker isn’t a cannibal.” 

The other scoffed. “They might as well save their breaths.” 

That seemed to give the first boy pause. For a few moments, no words were exchanged between the two, and the only sounds were those of paper chafing against paper, birds chirping, and students talking among themselves at the front of the building. 

“What do you mean?” the first boy asked eventually, in a lower voice. 

“It wasn’t a cannibal.” The other one clarified. “Whoever killed her, stole her eyes, and put her body on display didn’t do it for self-gratification.” 

The first sounded genuinely confused as he questioned, “What else was it then? Self-defense? But Ruth wasn’t violent. Not as far as I know.” 

There was no other way to describe the moments between that last sentence and the one that followed other than grim and fretful. The blossoms around them, for all their vibrant colors and riveting fragrances, did nothing to lighten the atmosphere, serving instead as mere decorations. Synthetic. Hollow. Illusory. Y/n pressed her right palm lightly against the bush, dewy greenery against her skin, breathing as quietly as she could while listening attentively to each breath the male students took despite knowing she shouldn’t. 

The boy with the mellifluous voice at last spoke, “I thought we you dragged me here for a smoke.” 

The first boy let out a cartoonish snicker. 

“Lo and behold, Hwang.” There came the sound of flame flickering to life. “This is prime quality weed I’ve rolled for you so let’s get high out of your fucking mind. I won’t accept anything else.” 

After that, all Y/n could do was stay there and listen to them blabber about things she had no clue about. Every time the conversation shifted; it was for the worse. Whatever they were smoking was influencing their ability to hold a sane conversation. The smell wasn’t all that nice either so they must have been receiving the desired effects if they were willing to withstand it. As they were leaving, the males sounded slightly more collected, as if their brains had pieced themselves back together. Y/n waited ten minutes before following them out and heading for the main building. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Their late breakfast was a gloomy affair, for obvious reasons. Several of Ruth Velasco’s closest friends and family sobbed into their steaming bowls of soup while others struggled to bring their spoons to their mouths with shaky hands, making sure to swallow their grief before taking a mouthful. The hall was relatively silent if one didn’t count the hushed conversations being had throughout the dining hall. Briefly, Y/n wished she could be part of a small group, weathering sudden woes together. Walking down the hallway and to Laboratory 205, where they conducted experiments concerning the field of Hematology, would be much easier then. But spying on the fleeting whispers around her would have to suffice. 

Only five students occupied the spacious room by the time she stepped through the door. A girl sat on the row by the window, face hidden from view as she napped the minutes away. One of the auburn-haired girls at the front, twins by the looks of it, penciled in her eyebrows as the other cracked a joke and they both burst out laughing. So far, her feet had been going on autopilot. But right before she could make the mistake of invading her classmate’s personal space, one she had never spoken with before, Y/n stopped in her tracks. 

Thoughts raced inside her head. And they were merciless. Had her seat been taken? Had Seungmin grown so tired of her that he no longer wished to be her lab partner? He’d become such at the beginning of the first semester but not by choice. Was that it? Had she made a mistake that had affected his grades? Seungmin was quite obsessed with them after all. His pride as a son of Minerva was on the line. Where was she going to sit now? If she had the nerve to ask the other boy where he had previously sat, then- 

The boy clapped Seungmin on the back and made his way toward another desk near the middle. Students started pouring in, and Y/n breathed a sigh of relief before taking her seat. After that, nothing out of the norm happened. Orlova took a roll call, after which she assigned them to spot RNA and DNA abnormalities and determine what they could result in, and left them to their devices. 

From time to time, she would approach students and oversee their work. Y/n always dreaded these moments. A bitter cold would sweep across the room, creeping into her circulatory system. Her very marrow seemed to freeze at the sight of Orlova heading towards their desk. The cold was without pity. 

“Is there a reason you refuse to take the medicine you’re given?” 

Seungmin’s voice from beside her was as low as it could be without the words being lost entirely. Still, she could detect the hint of annoyance behind his seemingly harmless question. 

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at him. “Is there a reason you keep asking?” 

“You’re delaying our work.” He says and looks at her with utmost indifference. “I refuse to get a bad grade because of whatever complex you might have regarding your pills.” 

“It’s not a complex. You don’t- 

“You’re right.” He sets his pen on the notebook and looks into the microscope, adjusting the lenses. “I don’t understand. Which is why I posed the question, one you refuse to answer.” 

Y/n could feel the last of the warmth in her body travel up to her cheeks, staining them a sorry shade of pink. 

“Maybe you should ask the people who keep giving away confidential information.” She muttered. 

Seungmin didn’t bother to look up from the microscope. “Maybe I will.” 

A minute or two after their miserable and short-lived conversation, a knock came at the door and, at Professor Orlova’s permission, a boy about their age walked in, immediately making his way toward where she sat behind her desk. He leaned down and whispered something that had the woman’s mood visibly souring before stepping back as she shrugged off her lab coat. 

“Continue to work on your reports.” She instructed, facing the students who had previously been immersed in work or gossip. “Do not forget that the average grade for them comprises 20% of your final evaluation for this course.” 

There was only a unanimous nod and verbal affirmation before she exited the laboratory with the boy right on her heel. 

“What’s going on?” A student questioned in a whisper but no one answered. 

It didn’t matter anyway. They did have reports to finish after all. Liliana Orlova wasn’t one to try your luck with when it came to lab work. Many before them had attempted to pull one over her only to end up begging for the wretched yet invaluable 20% of the final grade and be met with her pitiless evaluation. She was within her right to do so. If exceptions were made, they had to be made for everyone. But that was exactly what was wrong with her. She had a soft spot for but a precious few, a group of elite students who were equally elitist, and everyone else got the stinky eye whenever they pled for leniency. Seungmin was, needless to say, a part of it. 

At least he didn’t try to make her talk about the despicable medicine she was routinely prescribed by the higher-ups. She hated talking about it even more than she did ingesting the actual thing. She felt less than for being questioned about it. 

Orlova returned a while later, heels clacking almost violently against the floor. Everyone in the lab could feel the frustration wafting off of her like some overpowering perfume. It made her resemble the children of Ares and Mars more than she or any child of Aphrodite and Venus would like to admit. Disturbingly similar. The space that had once been clinical could no longer be considered as such. Its sterility had become muddled. 

The footsteps came to a halt right in front of Y/n. Professor Orlova’s question cut through the uncomfortable silence. 

“Are you finished with the report, Miss. L/n?” 

Internally panicking, Y/n looked up from her paper. “I’m almost-  

“Being weak and slow-witted is not what a student of Olympia ought to strive for.” Even the way she said the words sounded cruel. How could the daughter of love speak with such loathing, looking her up and down as if picking her apart flaw by flaw? “Though I suppose it is rather difficult to be anything but given your… predicament.” 

She could talk back, snap at the professor the way she had before, but where would that take her? Back to Principal Jiang’s office? The old man would love that. He must enjoy doling out punishments for the same student over and over and over again like he had nothing better to do. Right now, the only person with nothing better to do was Y/n. So, she kept her mouth shut, lowered her head, and nodded. 

That seemed to satisfy the woman’s sadism because all she said was, “Place it on my desk in five minutes.” 

“Yes, Professor,” Y/n murmured and watched as she walked away, taking some of her foul aura with her. 

Then, just when the humiliation seemed to abate, Seungmin got the brilliant idea to speak. 

“Does that mean we are being graded separately?” He asked, eyes flitting between Professor Orlova and Y/n. 

The former turned and smiled slightly at him. 

“Of course, Mr. Kim,” she answered in a much softer voice. “I do not wish for you to suffer the consequences of her bovine capacity. You may continue.” 

Y/n dared a scathing glance toward Seungmin who had gone back to his work. Her fists itched to punch his teeth in and the sound of him breathing next to her after she had just had those words thrown at her was enough to send her into a fit of rage. It was cold though. So, the anger kept her warm. She didn’t need to look up to know the other students were staring at her. Some snickering. Others muttering to themselves. But if she had let her gaze roam, she would have met his. The one gaze that always seemed to linger when all else had ebbed. 

Seungmin took turns using the microscope. A sort of silent agreement not to speak until the end of the class. They worked separately and efficiently because that’s how he liked it. They didn’t speak because that’s how he liked it. It worked wonders for him but for Y/n it was one more box into which she was shoved. When she was finished, she stood and went up to Orlova’s desk, handing her the report with trembling fingers. 

“What is this?” Orlova spoke quietly, thumbing through the pages. 

She didn’t look pleased. Not at all. Y/n could only curse at that. 

“The report you asked for, Professor.” She answered, knowing the question had been rhetorical. 

The professor stopped turning pages and glanced up sharply. Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn’t at once thrilled and scared shitless. And it wasn’t like Orlova couldn’t pick up on it. Children of Aphrodite and Venus were equipped with a hound's nose since birth when it came to people’s emotions. They knew when you were in pain or at peace. It was safe to say that she couldn’t be too thrilled about Y/n’s reaction. 

That’s probably why she called Seungmin over. He glanced at Y/n in confusion as Orlova handed him the report. 

“Mr. Kim, as your professor, I demand that you be completely honest with me.” Orlova’s tone left no room for interruption or defiance. She looked him in the eye. “Did she steal your work? Did you help her with it?” 

If Seungmin felt awkward at the implication then Y/n was drowning in embarrassment. He took in her profile, the paper limp in his loose hold.  

“No, Professor, she did not.” He answered. “Nor did I help her with it.” 

Orlova was not satisfied. “Is that your final answer?” 

“Yes, professor.”

Again, that did not satisfy her. Her lab partner’s answer only seemed to make things worse. Maybe he was unaffected by it or unable to perceive when authority figures saw him as a filthy roach, but Y/n was and she could. It was pointless to pretend otherwise.  

“Very well, then. You may return to your seat.” She told him with a twitch of a smile and held out her hand for the report, which he placed on her palm before turning to leave. Y/n made to follow him. “Not you, Miss. L/n.” 

She had dreaded this. The moment when she’d be left facing Orlova, this time alone. Seungmin wasn’t her friend, but he was just there. In his presence, Orlova softened her words, cushioned her remarks, and sugar-coated her distaste. None of that now. 

The professor planted her elbows on the desk and clasped her hands. “What will it take for you to learn your place?” 

Y/n looked anywhere but at the woman in front of her. “I don’t kno- 

  Orlova squinted. 

“Enough with your pretend cluelessness.” She sneered. “You may have fooled Hajjar and Principal Jiang into seeing you as something other than what you truly are but you will find I am far more difficult to misguide.” 

Her brain went into overdrive. She was short-circuiting. 

“Whatever Professor Hajjar has in mind, I had nothing to do with it.” That only made the woman’s sneer grow in cruelty. “I don’t- I truly want no part in it.” 

She gave Y/n such a pointed look, that she felt it poking her eyeballs. 

“Then, it is only fair we question as to how a professor that has never once risen to your defense, has suddenly taken you under his wing.” Orlova unclasped her hands. “I warned you. I am much more difficult to misguide.” 

Y/n glanced down at the report, finding solace in her handwriting. 

“But I am not trying to.” She tried to appeal. 

Orlova gave her one last scathing look. “Go back to your seat.” 

She stood there, frozen, hands now purple from the cold and throat clogged up. This was bad. Whatever she had been called to attend forty-something minutes prior had ignited a new brand of hatred in the woman before her. Her grades would suffer for it. She would have no chance of being employed. Luna would have to live in even graver poverty. Penury as it was called. 

The walk back to her seat was like trudging through heavy snow. She couldn’t help but bite down on her lower lip, drawing blood. Hot pain. The only warmth she could provide for herself. And he was staring. Staring while conversing with his lab partner, a boy she recognized from the ceremony. Leader of the Second Cohort and Son of Jupiter. 

Y/n wanted to stare back, maybe even scowl at him. But he appeared too secure (symmetrical features, unflinching gaze, and physical adeptness) while she felt hounded on all fronts. They were horribly matched. 

She had to see Professor Hajjar and convince him of the implications of going through with his plan. As absurd as it sounded for someone to say this, she had to make a son of Minerva see reason. How was she going to do that though? Genius wasn’t encoded in her DNA. She couldn’t compete with him in terms of logic, rationality, and strategy. Not when he had the advantages of both nature and nurture. Whatever her argument, he was sure to counter it with one more thoroughly constructed. 

This was all she thought about while walking up the steps to his office, the same steps she had ascended just a few days earlier. Today she felt she had already received her punishment. So why was knocking on his door such a daunting task? When she managed, however, he gave her permission to enter. 

“Good afternoon, Professor.” She greeted. 

He looked up from his device and extracted a file from the neatly organized stack on his left. 

“Good afternoon, Miss. L/n. Here,” He motioned for her to come closer and once she stood in front of his desk, handed her the beige folder. “It is your training and diet regiment. I trust you have refrained from overeating. A ruptured stomach after years of starvation is the last thing we need right now.” 

She shook her head lightly. “No, I’m good. The lunch ladies are following your instructions.” 

Anxious to find the right way to start the discussion on her supposed training, she began abusing her lower lip feeling the skin peeling under the brute force. Because, truly, how was she supposed to tell him she wasn’t planning on going through with it because his colleague had all but threatened her? She could just outright say it. But that was so pathetic. So fucking pathetic. It would sound so ungrateful of her after all the string-pulling he did to get permission for her to train with her peers. In each fathomable scenario, she sounded like a snob.

“There is someone I would like you to meet on Monday.” His words pulled her out of her steaming train of thought. His hands were clasped before him, but it was not meant to taunt her she thinks. “Someone I think would be suitable to your needs.” 

She was back on the steaming train. “You won’t be the one training me?” 

Professor Hajjar unclasped his hands to gesture at the stacks of documents on his desk. 

“I am far too engaged with research and grading tests and assignments to oversee your training personally. The student I have in mind is hardworking and skilled at his craft.” 

“Student?” She questioned, fingers curling anxiously around the schedule. 

“Would that be an issue?” 

His question would be insulting if it weren’t for the fact that Y/n fears her peers as much as she wishes she could stand by their side. Whoever it was that he was dead set on assigning as her mentor would not be gentle. He would not be patient because he didn’t have to. Not when it was her. 

Y/n shifted her weight from one leg to the other until Hajjar had enough of her. He rose from his seat and headed for the bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines of books too expensive to dream of possessing. Being a renowned researcher and an esteemed professor at Olympia University meant he could afford such luxuries. Luxuries he apparently intended to extend to her. 

It was curious, how this was the first time a hand stretched in her direction, not seeking to draw blood but to gift. While she fought between rejecting his gift and accepting it with a thousand thanks, he unfurled her hand and placed the book on her cold palm. Instinctively, her fingers curled around the binding. 

“Just because I will not be there each day to supervise you, does not mean I will be left out of the loop with regards to your progress. One of your mentor’s duties will be to provide a weekly report on precisely that.” 

Y/n nodded, unable to speak for a few moments. 

“Can you tell me his name?” She asked when the initial shock had begun to subside. 

Professor Hajjar regarded her stoically, hands clasped behind his back. 

“As I said,” He began in an even tone, walking back to his seat, “You will meet him on Monday at the Training Center.” 

What was with all the mystery? Why couldn’t he just tell her outright? Was it that crucial to his plans that she be kept in the dark? Despite having received the gift a few moments earlier, she felt her nervousness spike up again. 

“Professor, can I ask you something?” The question slipped from her lips. 

The man peered at her from behind his glasses once more. “Carry on.” 

“Can I take some of the food back home to my sister?” She asked without delay, fearing that if she hesitated, she might never say it at all. “I thought that since raising our stipend is out of the question, I might at least take some of the food home to her. Like- like maybe half a burger, for example. Or a salad. That way she can- her stomach hurts so- 

“Miss. L/n.” 

“Yes?” 

She was breathing erratically, something she realized after having been interrupted. Her heart beat so fast it hurt each time her chest rose and fell. But she could only look at Hajjar, sending him a silent plea. 

He nodded and said, “It will be arranged.” 

To say this was the best thing to have happened to her in a while would be a dishonest understatement. Because it was the most benevolent thing anyone here had desired or dared to do for her. It was the only thing anyone here, on Camp Jupiter, had ever done for her period. She would be forever grateful. 

“Thank you, Professor.” 

Eos Elementary would put the fear of the heavens in the foundations of any normal elementary school outside of Camp Jupiter. It was only right though, considering the attendees weren’t normal children and those other schools didn’t have to teach them how to control their gifts so they didn’t blow up the building for being upset. It was built to accommodate the talents of every young demigod and hone their skills so they could overcome the challenges they would have to face later on in examinations and quests. Easy-peasy? No. Not for any demigod, but especially Luna. 

Luna, who stood outside the gate with her scarf wrapped up to her cheeks with only an armed guard to keep her company. Luna, who kicked at rocks, waiting for Y/n to pick her up so they could go home and do their homework in bed. She jogged toward the little girl, wrapping her arms around her. 

“Heyyyy.” She greeted, trying to sound cheerful. 

“Hey.” 

Luna was less enthusiastic than usual, which wasn’t surprising. Given everything. Y/n helped take her backpack off her shoulders, carrying it in one hand and holding the other for the little girl to take, which she did. 

“Everything good at school?” Y/n asked, trying to ignore the guard’s stare burning into their backs. 

Instead of responding with words, Luna simply nodded and looked down at her feet as Y/n herded her through the streets. 

“So, guess what,” Y/n said when they had to stop at a red light. Luna only looked up at her briefly before looking back down, kicking at the pavement. Still, Y/n tried to sound jovial as she delivered the good news. “I get to bring you food from the dining hall from now on!” 

Luna perked up at her words, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Really?” She said, dark eyes glinting with hope. “You can?” 

Y/n matches her enthusiasm with an excited nod, fingers tightening around the smaller hand as she enumerated whatever came to mind. 

“Hamburgers. Salads. Pasta. Soups and stews. Whatever is on the menu for breakfast and lunch.” 

“Even the honey muffins?” Luna is practically jumping for joy at this point. 

“Even those.” 

The rest of the way home, Luna is asking her about how much food she eats at school, unaware that she has only recently tried the food there. But Y/n makes a good show of bragging about it in hopes that it will lift the girl’s spirits higher. It works like a charm. 

There is little to no difference between their rotten apartment and the streets; cold, wet, and a tad gloomier than the lamplit alleys. But Y/n cooks a pathetic batch of what’s supposed to be pancakes for Luna (a bit of cheese as well sprinkled with olive oil and oregano she had stolen during New Year’s) and hands her a glass of water to wash it down. Then they get into bed and do their homework in silence so that tomorrow they can spend the day at the aviary. This is all fine. The problem is falling asleep. There seems to be no dream compelling enough to claim Luna’s consciousness for a few hours. No blanket so thick as to keep her warm. 

Y/n tucked her black hair behind her ear. “Are you cold?” 

Luna nodded slowly. 

“I’m scared.” She confessed and looked up at her. “Can you stay with me?” 

With that, all thoughts of sleeping on the floor were abandoned. Keeping Luna warm and feeling safe was her top priority. 

“Here,” she said, cupping her hands under the blanket. “It’s better now, isn’t it?” 

“A little.” 

“You can go to sleep now. There’s nothing here.” 

Even as she spoke the words the falsity of them rang loud and clear. Especially in a room so utterly cold, and dark, the walls of which were covered with mold no matter how she tried to scrape it off. Luna knew it too, even if she hesitated in speaking her mind. Fear did that to a person, a child. 

“What if I see something again?” She asked, a tremor in her voice. “What if they kill me?” 

Y/n pulled her into an embrace, bones digging into smaller bones, and rubbed soothing circles on her sister's back. She kisses her temple as Luna fists the back of her midnight blue shirt.  “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I’m right here, aren’t I?” 

Luna lifts her head and looks Y/n in the eye, a silent plea. “You won’t leave after I fall asleep?” 

She couldn’t lie to her this time, couldn’t part from her when her breathing evened out, and lay down on the floor. She couldn’t part from her to sit at the edge of the bed, holding her hand when she was cold all over. No, tonight was going to be different. 

“I promise.” 

She secures the blanket around their shivering bodies. 

************************************************************************************************************************************************

Monday turned out to be absolute poison. Not only did Professor Orlova keep breathing down her neck about every single noise regardless if Y/n had caused it or not, but her arms hurt like a fucking cunt from the apex of her shoulders to her wrist. She could barely write and could only take about five minutes of carrying her ratty brown backpack before removing it and sitting just about anywhere to roll her shoulders. There was no relief. It only hurt more. Breakfast went down smoothly so there was that, but other than the warm meal nothing about that day seemed promising. 

The entirety of Olympia, be it the student body or the staff, had been almost a bit too eager to leave Juliana Pierce’s death behind like a rusty relic in a dilapidated museum, but the mood had shifted over the weekend. Now, everyone whispered amongst themselves, raising question after question. Some even had theories of their own to share over breakfast, and Y/n had eavesdropped from her table while pretending to revise one more time before classes began. 

Lucky for her, she didn’t have to strain to catch the conversation a group of four students were having at the long table to her left which joined another, then another, to the very end of the vast structure. It wasn’t enough that she couldn’t afford to have a warm meal in the dining hall, but even when she could, it was an unspoken rule that she had to sit at a table separate from the rest. It was a mere three feet of a distance, but it cemented a tacit ultimatum; that she was not to mingle. She was not to pollute the other tables with her presence. She didn’t attempt to change that. Even if the group of students seemed to be of an amiable disposition. 

Having had her blood drawn earlier than usual, as per Professor Hajjar’s instructions, Y/n had arrived there before them. She’d managed to catch glimpses of them. Not that there was any need to, as they were the same students who always sat there; two young men and two young women. The males, Jisung and Felix, were the same sons of Apollo she’d caught looking at her the week before when Orlova had put her on the spot. One of the girls was Hwang Yeji, leader of the Second Cohort. The other, whose Cohort Y/n didn’t know, she’d heard the three refer to as ‘Lia’. By now she’d memorized their voices. 

“It’s been three weeks though.” Said Lia, “Shouldn’t the CIH have found a lead by now?” 

A sound similar to a scoff, but more resigned came from Jisung. 

“So what if it’s been three weeks?” He countered, and seemingly after taking a bite out of his cheesy bun, adds, “The paper said there were no footprints, no DNA left behind at the crime scene. So far, the only way for them to find a lead is by analyzing the killer’s method. They could just be a perfectionistic bastard who’s hard to catch.” 

“The people that were there said that she’d stripped naked and skinned alive.” Said Yeji. “Remember what that girl with the black and red spiky hair said when they interviewed her?” 

This time it was Felix who spoke. 

“Yeah, we were about to turn off the TV when that came on and she started talking about the hole in Ruth’s chest. No heart. No eyes either. No traces of DNA, monster, beast, or human.” He paused, and Y/n flipped the page. “Poor girl looked about to have a breakdown. Good thing they cut it before they caught it on camera.” 

“Like it would have mattered.” Shot Jisung through a mouthful of mushroom-and-dill chicken and dumpling soup. “She’s going to have to live with the sight of Ruth’s corpse for the rest of her life. What a bunch of pussies have to say doesn’t matter shit.” 

Groaning in disgust, Yeji muttered, “Says the bitch with social anxiety.” 

“Don’t start shit with me, Elmo lookalike.” Fired Jisung. 

What followed was a back-and-forth worthy of the circus. Even amidst the clatter of utensils all around them, the cuss words being hurled across the table entered Y/n’s ears unobstructed. She tried to make sense of some of the expressions but without much success. 

“Isn’t it strange though?” Lia spoke in a soft voice, and the rest of them stopped to listen while Y/n wallowed a spoonful of the soup. 

When it became obvious that she wasn’t going to elaborate, Jisung took it upon himself to ask her to clarify. 

“Lia, baby girl, everything’s fucking weird around here lately.” Y/n could hear the laugh he was trying to suppress. “You’re going to have to be more specific.” 

“What Felix said before, about there being no traces of DNA.” She explained, voice still gentle. “There’s always something left behind, isn’t there? Cloth fibers. Skin. Nails. Body fluids.” Y/n started in her chair, soup spilling out of her spoon and back into the porcelain bowl, as booming laughter sounded from somewhere across the dining hall. It seemed to temporarily catch their attention. Then, Lia whispered. “It’s almost like whoever did that to Ruth was never even there. Like the only evidence they ever existed is the tragedy they left behind.” 

Felix matched Lia’s whispery tone with his own. “What if they left something but we have no way of understanding it because we aren’t aware of its existence?” 

Jisung groaned, mouth full of food. 

“Whatever,” He interjected, likely wanting to end the conversation, “It’s not like we’re going to solve the case at eight in the morning.” 

“No coffee today?” Asked Yeji, sounding surprised. 

That seemed to ignite some kind of previously dampened frustration in Jisung as he all but pushed the chair backward, the legs screeching against the floor. 

“I would have had some,” he emphasized and Y/n heard Felix make a choking noise, “If not for this chicken dragging me away from the vending machine like a wet rag going all ‘we have to cut back on coffee, Jisung’ and ‘it’s not healthy to put that much caffeine in your body, Jisung’.” 

“Really? You’re trying to lay off coffee?” Yeji’s question was answered by another series of choking sounds. None of them paid that any heed as Jisung continued to do whatever he was doing, Yeji sipped from her cup, and Lia took a small bite out of the dumpling in the soup (Y/n spied from the corner of her eye). “That’s great, you know. I was getting worried seeing you chugging down liters of coffee like it’s water.” 

Jisung released a short laugh of absolute derangement. “Yeah right. He just doesn’t want to have to run just to take a shit.” 

Y/n couldn’t withhold her laughter anymore. It spluttered out of her even as she abused her lower lip by biting into it. Some of the soup that had barely passed her lips and that she’d been trying not to swallow for fear of choking with amusement, ended up on the silver tray. She swallowed what remained in her mouth and used a napkin to wipe her lips. 

They’d stopped talking by now. Y/n could feel their gaze on her so she tried her best to act like she’d been laughing at something else, turning the page, and mentally punching herself for it as realization struck. Nothing about Hematology was amusing. In fact, it was rather infuriating considering who taught the course. Pathetic. Fortunately, the group of four had let her be pathetic in peace, not bothering with pointing out how disgusting she was, and they’d all gone about their day in peace. 

The little comfort she’d derived from Orlova’s lecture was thanks to Seungmin’s presence. She would never tell him that though. Surely, he would hate to be perceived as someone she could trust, someone she could consider a friend. He made this obvious through his body language; maintaining a conspicuous distance when they worked in pairs even as the rest huddled near the microscope, mostly looking at her from his peripheral vision, giving curt answers, shrugging when she asked a question, and so on. Whatever ease she felt in his company was to be kept a secret from him. 

What she couldn’t keep a secret was the unease that had taken root in her subconscious the previous week, when she’d first become conscious of his existence. Hwang, as his friend had called him, had been perusing the pages of his Hematology textbook just as Y/n had taken a few moments to look about the room. She hadn’t been paying attention to him specifically, but he had somehow sensed her wandering gaze and turned quickly enough to catch her admiring the architectural design, gazes locking. The oxygen had vanished from her lungs. Cold with fear of Luna being taken into custody, Luna charged with a murder she hadn’t committed, Luna taken away, Luna being tortured for information, she’d looked away and feigned interest in some other aspect of the lecture hall. But the dread had not ceased. 

It had stalked her in the hallways, followed her at lunch, and, ultimately, tracked her down at the Training Center. She’d entered the changing room, put on her new uniform, the material of which showcased the effects of starvation on her body, and sat on the bench, waiting for her new instructor to arrive. After twenty minutes, it had become apparent to her that they were a no-show, so she’d braved the short journey across the floor to the archery area. Looking back, it had been the worst possible choice she could have made. But how was she supposed to know what to do? Just by having watched for years? She wasn’t the best at translating theory into practice, even if her imagination was what she’d relied on to compensate for the lack of tactile experience. 

So, yeah, archery turned out to be the wrong discipline to start with. Not only did she not know which bow to pick from the shelves, but the gloves were tailored for each student specifically. It had either skipped Professor Hajjar’s mind or he didn’t intend for her to start with the bow just yet. Still, she’d picked a spot farthest to the right and watched the other students in action. How they placed the arrow. How they positioned their feet. The angle of their arms as they pulled the string. The required distance from the faces so it didn’t slice the flesh off once it was released. Not feeling all that confident, she’d taken her spot and raised the bow. Instant regret. Pain shot from her shoulder to her wrist as she struggled to keep the arrow in place and the string pulled. Not that she managed to pull it, to begin with. It was a rather failed, pitiful first attempt. 

To make matters worse, she could feel eyes observing her. It was almost the same as before, the sole difference being the intensity of the gaze and the fact that when she looked to her right, Y/n came face to face with the person who had been stalking her nightmares for the past week. In her dreams, he was always a witness, the final nail in the coffin. Only, it wasn’t just a dream.��

Her fingers trembled with the nerves. It was impossible to knock the end of the arrow on the string without the former veering to the right before clattering to the floor. She glanced at him as she crouched to pick it up. She bit her lip in frustration, tasting blood. It irritated her to no end; that he leaned against the wall, that she hadn’t noticed sneak behind her or lean against the wall, or that he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was watching, and a bunch of other things that, in the end, were irrelevant. Most of all, she loathed the effect that this man, whom only days before she hadn’t known existed, had on her. His mere presence served as an electric chair, constantly punishing her for her silence. The arrow clattered to the floor once more. 

Again and again, she tried without success, and all the while, he was there to watch. Y/n wanted so badly to stomp her feet like a five-year-old. His presence deterred her. It came to the point where she worried about the smallest things; bending down to pick up the arrow, placing her feet shoulder-width apart, worrying if they were parallel with the shooting line, or when she bit back a whimper of pain as she pulled the string. That was the last time. 

The fingers of her right hand clenched around the shaft of the arrow. Humiliated, Y/n took a tremulous breath before lowering the bow, picking up the quiver, and walking away, leaving the boy behind. He did not follow. Or at least, she didn’t hear him do so. To make sure, she halted and looked back just once to catch him with his gaze trained on her. Immediately, she faced the exit. 

Enclosed in her own head and all the negative emotions brewing up in there, Y/n failed to notice the man headed toward her, which would be impossible in most cases considering the young man was hard to miss, even if he was clad in the same training gear as every other student. But miss him she did. And she continued to miss him even as she turned to the left toward the shelves, placing the bow on the rack with trembling fingers and the quiver where she’d found it. No amount of rubbing her palms against her thighs calmed them. This was just humiliating. 

She turned and crashed into a sturdy figure. Hands came to rest on her arms, steadying Y/n as her forehead throbbed from the impact. After making certain she wasn’t going to collapse, Lee Minho stroked his chin, the flesh now rosy and tender.  

“Well,” He began, looking at her, “This is going to bruise.” 

Y/n didn’t feel all that sorry, but if she showed no remorse for the honest accident, she might garner the wrath of his friends. They didn’t look like the kind of people anyone wanted to fuck with, least of all her. 

“Sorry.” She muttered, averting her eyes. 

Before she could walk past him, he took hold of her arm and took a good look at her face. 

“Did you have anyone take a look at your nose?” He asked. 

Normally, it would have been hard to forget about the navy bruise since it was quite literally on her nose, but all concerns about her surface flaws tended to flee whenever more oppressive issues became the main characters of her life. Luna’s safety was her focal point, as was hunger. Her health had never been anyone’s priority, and she had learned to disregard it just as expertly. The same thing she had done with her appearance. Yet there were moments like this one when someone would point out the holes in her threadbare shirt or the hollowness of her cheeks, that she considered turning her skin inside out. Hiding her face beneath her flesh. 

She looked at his gloved hand on her arm. “Like they’d waste their medicine on me.” 

His hold loosened and then disappeared as he crossed his arms over his chest. Y/n looked up at him, asking herself why she hadn’t already left. 

“It doesn’t look that bad considering the strength and speed of my kick. All you have to do is get someone to realign it for you.” 

That was a low blow. Even for him. It was not a secret that she was quite literally an outcast, period. This truth was not easy to stomach but there was no easier way to say it either. And he knew it. 

“You’re mocking me, aren’t you?” Y/n could only be thankful that the shame hadn’t drained the last ounce of strength from her limbs. “Leave me alone. You had your fun.” 

Minho’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Where’s the fun in besting someone who has had no training? It’s like kicking a starved dog.” Y/n hoped he couldn’t tell how his words affected her, even if it wasn’t her first time hearing them. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “Besides, I’m not here to mock you. Professor Hajjar assigned me to be your mentor, show you the ropes until you get the hang of it. Basically, train you until you’ve built enough skill and stamina to level up.” 

That caught her by surprise. Several questions started running through her head at a speed only an overthinker could achieve. Why was he so late? Why was he wearing archery gloves? Had she been right to pick up archery first? Why did he smell like the violets in the lush gardens surrounding the Hall of Ceremonies and the rum that children of Dionysus and Bacchus so often consumed behind staircases? 

But what Y/n asked as she stared at him, frozen, was, “Why you?” 

“Hm?” 

“Why would he choose you?” She repeated, somewhat impatiently. 

The pause that followed was filled with grunts, moans of pain, taunting laughter, thuds, whimpers, arrows swishing through the air, and more as he regarded her with a somewhat pensive expression. It wasn’t until she lowered her eyes to her feet as a resounding cackle sounded from the far left of the archery zone, that Minho seemed to break away from his train of thought. 

With a slight shake of his head, he walked to the shelf and picked up the bow and quiver from before. 

“Maybe he thinks I wouldn’t make a spectacle out of you.” He said, fingers running up and down the upper limb. 

Another surprise. 

As if driven by some newfound hope, Y/n stepped closer. “Is he right?” 

Mouth curving up in a small smile, Minho nodded and handed her the bow. 

“Any luck with it?” He asked. 

Y/n shook her head, eyes on the bow as her fingers curled around the grip. 

“None.” When he just stood there, staring as if he expected a more detailed answer, she went on to say, “The string- it hurts my fingers when I pull it. If I can pull it in the first place.” 

“There are pads for that. Why didn’t you take a pair from the shelves? I know you don’t have your own yet.” 

Because she didn’t know there were any. The archery zone was farthest from the benches, and this was her first day of training. Ever. She didn’t know her way around here, and it was only becoming more and more obvious by the second that she stood out like a sore fucking thumb among all of these well-fed, athletic, lethal cohorts. Her silence and the way she couldn’t look him in the eye was a clear enough answer for Minho as he placed his hand on her bony shoulder and led her back to the trenches of the archery zone. On their way to the farthest spot on the left, where she’d made a fool out of herself previously, he explained the parts of the arrow and the bow. They registered in her brain as follows; the point/arrowhead, shaft, fletching, nock, lower and upper limbs, grip, arrow rest, and the nocking point. Easy enough. Theoretically. Maybe with consistent training, she would get her arrow to stay still. 

“Hey,” Minho says, eyes set ahead, “You’re here. Done practicing?” 

She follows his gaze to the person it has landed on, and she wonders how she could have let his presence slip her mind. Had she been swept away by Minho’s explanation of the basics of archery to this extent? 

The boy closed in on them as they halted at Y/n’s previous spot, and she hoped her discomfort at his presence didn’t bleed into her countenance, pale as it was. His height and appearance didn’t help. Over the past week, she’d seen him in passing and at a distance, but now that he stood before Minho and her it felt as though some looming threat had materialized before her very eyes. Some primal instinct in her urged her to scour her surroundings for an exit. It made her want to worm her way into the deepest layers of the earth if only to seek refuge from the misfortune one word from him might bring upon Luna and her. His eyes were on her for no longer than a few seconds. 

“Finished a while ago,” Hwang told Minho in that honeyed yet neutral voice of his. His right thumb fit neatly inside the ringlike part of the black knife he had apparently been carrying the entire time. She noted the sinister curve of the blade. “Thought I’d try archery today.” 

“Where’s your bow?” 

“Changed my mind. Things are rather dull around here.” He said nonchalantly, but Y/n felt the sting. “I might go join Yeonjun and Beomgyu in the simulation chamber after all.” 

Minho’s brows shot up. “There already?” 

“They waited for you for about half an hour then left.” The boy’s eyes were on her, appraising her once again. “I see you had no plans of joining us though.” 

“I told you gremlins on Friday that I’d be training her from now on.” Minho reminded him and suddenly he was standing a tad closer to her. “After simulation practice. Remember?”  

Hwang’s gaze briefly shifted to the space between her and Minho and then he shrugged. “We thought it was a prank.”  

Y/n couldn’t fault him for that. This whole endeavor sounded like a practical joke. She didn’t see how it could end in anything other than complete and utter disappointment for her. Orlova would humiliate her further if she failed. And she would fail. But the way he said it implied that she was the joke. A bleak, pathetic little gag that his friend was wasting his time on. True as it was, it still made her itch. 

After that, Y/n tried to tune them out with very little success. Even with all the screaming and groans of pain around, his voice was impossible to dampen. She heard everything, from their talk about the new gear for the obstacle course to the nets on the second floor of Compartment A, a place she’d never stepped foot in. If Minho found the fleeting glances Hwang shot in her direction suspicious, he did not remark on it. In any case, Minho’s ability to pick up on the way his friend appraised her mattered little when she was cursed with feeling dissected every second of their interaction. 

A bit later, the taller boy took his leave, toying with the knives in his grasp. 

“Hyunjin, hey,” Minho called after him. Y/n glanced back just as Hwang tilted his head for his friend to continue. “Don’t forget about what we talked about before.” 

After taking one last look at her, the boy answered simply, “Sure.” 

The next 15 minutes were an overload of theory that she would soon have to put into practice. Minho was a good teacher, even if a little intimidating at times. His gaze could be equally warm and chilly, yet it appeared to melt entirely at a specific sound.  

Her head snapped to the left, and surely, halfway through the thinning line of archers, stood Jisung with his brother Felix, both in their training gear. They were- well, he was cackling and pointing at Felix’s sorry attempts at hitting the target dead in the center while the blonde pouted, frustrated at his less-than-adequate skills. He must have been a healer then if he wasn’t even a little bit naturally gifted with the bow. The worst part about being a pitiful archer was probably having a brother who was just the opposite and made no effort to console you. Not that Jisung wasn’t trying to help. He just teased Felix in the process. 

Y/n smiled a little at their bond before positioning her feet the way Minho taught her and made to pull the string. When she craned her head to the side for his approval, his attention was fixated elsewhere. While she’d pulled herself back to the matter at hand, he seemed to be under some sort of spell. Interest in their training had drained from his eyes. Now, the warm irises expressed something different, remote, and almost regretful. Y/n couldn’t put a finger on it. 

Lowering the bow, she asked, “Do you know him?” 

As if electrocuted, Minho tore his gaze away and looked at her. She felt a little sorry for having sought his attention. 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding for her to raise the bow and get in position. “They’re my friends.” 

*******************************************************************************************************************************************

The next day starts normal enough save for the fact that they wake up earlier as she has to get her blood drawn earlier if she wants to have breakfast at the hall. Made breakfast for Luna, and endured the pangs of pain. Stomach acidity going wild in there. Reassured her little sister for the thousandth time at home and on the way to Eos Elementary. Ran a marathon to school. Got her blood sucked through a tube which left her feeling dull and lifeless like a dish towel. Breakfast was stellar and she even stuffed an extra honey chocolate muffin into an empty pocket of her backpack, all wrapped up in foil by the lunch lady. 

Lectures went on and on, and for once Y/n didn’t feel like she was about to turn into one of Medusa’s little garden companions. Seungmin and she were still not on speaking terms. Not that they had been gossiping and chatting away before. Just… the silence was stifling. She’d have to get used to it. It was no different from what she had once shared with Chiron, her caretaker. An uneasy, dutiful coexistence. 

Lunch came around but she tried not to seem too excited about it. Others would think it weird for someone to be that excited over a meal. Or maybe everyone did? Food was something to look forward to for everyone, wasn’t it? 

Whatever the case, she tried to put a leash on her excitement as she received her prearranged lunch. On her way to her table, she spotted Minho talking with his friends and another guy with a muscular build she had seen around before. He caught her looking and acknowledged her with the slightest nod. Not even that seemed to escape his friend Hwang. His piercing dark eyes studied the exchange, which urged her to hurry to her table. 

To her left, the four students from before chatted with each other. At one point she felt them watching as she dug into her small portion of spaghetti. She put the fork down and settled for studying the floor. What magnificent patterns. After a minute of speaking under their breath, they looked away and pretended they hadn’t seen her gorge on her food like a cavewoman. 

Halfway through lunch, a storm of a dark-haired young man comes their way, clasping his hands on Jisung’s and Felix’s shoulders. 

“Oh, my fucking fuck, you guys,” Is his first line, “You’ll never guess what happened!” 

Jisung pulls him down to his eye level. “So, tell us since we won’t.” 

The man sits smack between the two brothers. 

“This little girl basically went barking mad at the school. You know the one. For the little kids. The one you went to when you were little.” 

The redhead speaks, sounding incredulous. “Eos Elementary, Jeongin. How can you not know?” 

“Why would I know?!” The guy, Jeongin, defends. 

“You’ve been here like three years!” 

“And I would have lived not knowing anyway!” 

Jisung intervenes. “Oh, my fucking gods, who gives a shit?!” 

“Yeah, you were talking about a little girl?” Felix attempts to bring them back on track a tad more gently. “What did she do?” 

Jeongin smiles big, his eyes turning into glittering jewels as two adorable dimples appear on his cheeks. He leans forward, motioning for the others to do the same. But when he speaks, he makes no effort to lower his voice. 

“From what I heard, the higher-ups sent some of their own to investigate. I know what you’re thinking; what the fuck are they doing there then. Well, at first, I thought they suspected a staff member. Maybe one of them got caught selling drugs on the low. Dabbling in crystal meth or cocaine. But, no, that doesn’t make sense because they’re busy trying to catch whoever killed Juliana and Ruth. Is that it then? Did the janitor kill those two? So, then I listen closer and-  

Yeji lifts an eyebrow. “Listen?”  

“Eavesdropped on the professors, whatever. So, then I listen closer, and when I tell you my jaw dropped!” 

All five of them fall silent, and Y/n listens with bated breath. 

“Wait…” Jisung looks to others for confirmation. “Don’t tell me they suspected a kid.” 

Lia cups her hand over her mouth, her appetite long gone. “No way…” 

“Way!” Jeongin effused. 

Yeji threw up her hands. “This is getting ridiculous.” 

“Is this what they’re wasting time on while Ruth and Juliana rot?” Felix asked in disbelief and anger, staring down at his plate. “Chasing and scaring little kids?” 

“But you guys don’t know the best part.” 

“Best?” Yeji shot him a reproachful look, just about done with his chipper attitude towards the situation. “There’s nothing remotely good about this, Jeongin.” 

Her words appeared to strike a chord within him, for he got red in the face as if he’d been guzzling down cup after cup of wine. He removed his hand from Jisung’s shoulder, whose expression let him know he agreed with the redhead. Felix and Lia shared the same opinion it seemed. 

“I know. I didn’t mean it like that. I- well, you know how I- sorry, I got carried away.” He apologized, and it sounded truthful, with the way he smiled awkwardly, blushing even more with each word. Then, with a shake of his head, he carried on, “Apparently, they started to question every kid that is known to have inherited powers. Started doing blood tests. Putting them through this trance-like state. This girl couldn’t take it and lashed out, injuring the medics before making a break for the gate.” 

A few unnerving beats of silence. Lia rotated the pearly bracelet on her delicate wrist. Jisung zoned out, toying with a triangular-shaped object about the size of an acorn. Felix picked up his fork only to set it down again. Yeji was deep in thought. 

“Do they have her in custody now?” 

The question earns her a groan from Jeongin. 

“That’s what I’ve been telling you! She broke out. The guards started chasing like fools but they couldn’t catch her.” 

“Couldn’t get their hands on a little girl? Are you serious?” 

“Deadass.” 

“Are they still out looking for her?” asked Felix, who was now trying to force himself to eat. 

Jeongin shrugged, picking up Jisung’s fork to steal some of his spaghetti, which the latter didn’t seem to mind.  

“All I know is that the last time they saw her was before she bolted inside the forest.” 

Jisung’s eyes almost popped out. Lia gasped and the rest were just as shocked. 

“Oh, no,” She whispered. “Gods she won’t be able to survive in there.” 

Jeongin swallowed the food and grabbed a napkin to wipe at the corners of his mouth. 

“I think she will.” He counters. 

“How so?” It was the first time Felix sounded genuinely angry as pushed his plate away, almost knocking over Lia’s glass. To him, the whole ordeal is absurd at best, and evil at worst. “She doesn’t have the training to face what prowls in there.” 

No, she doesn’t, thought Y/n. For the entire duration of their conversation, her body had remained stock still, a veritable statue. Her body had gone into panic mode, reserving energy only for breathing. Her limbs had lost all feeling to the point that she had felt like a spectator to her miserable form sitting there uselessly while they reacted to the unofficial news about the runaway child. A child driven mad by experiments conducted in the name of an investigation. 

It took a few moments for her to reclaim her anatomy, to perceive the surroundings through her eyes; the clattering of utensils, the boisterous laughter, the brain-rotting whispers, and the light streaming in from the windows high up. Then, utter void. She could feel their eyes on her but their voices were suddenly silenced by the buzzing in her head. The ringing in her ears. The blood rushed back into her face as she forced her trembling hands to grab onto the straps of her backpack. Darkness pooled at her feet as though every crevice of her framework bled pure, unadulterated tar. A fog that, if you touched it, curled around your fingers, slowly draining your life force. Not that she knew any of this. 

By the time she snapped back into her body for the second time, she had already begun running. 

No one other than the higher-ups knew of this, but back when she’d first arrived at Camp Jupiter, Y/n had done so through the forest. Lupa had found her at the very edge before she’d managed one step into the green nightmare. She had smacked her around a few times, glowering over her, thinking it would intimidate her into abandoning her newfound purpose. Meeting her baby sister. In the end, the guardian had granted her entrance. Only not through the natural path, and not without a few chilling words of caution. 

Now, she found herself at the edge for a second time, preparing to brave the search for Luna in the gargantuan nightmare before which she stood. No forest was so imposing, so eerie in the way only living things promising a harrowing death can be. But what did any of that matter? What did it matter if she stayed outside of it, alive and with her sister's mangled corpse painted on her eyelids when she could just step inside? 

Clutching the straps of her backpack, she willed the fear to melt off her extremities. The forest closed up behind her, alive with the desire to prevent her escape. Two more steps inside and her sense of direction turned to mush. There was no left or right, no up or down. Only branches, thorns, the hooting of owls, and somewhere, what felt like but a few hundred feet from her, maniacal laughter. There was only forward because the exit had been devoured. 

Her heart hammered away inside her chest. How was she going to find Luna in this leafy purgatory? Encased by darkness as she was, she would assume she was without hands or feet if not for her sense of touch. Her soles prickled with the cold and her fingers were minutes away from turning into inoperable stubs. As she walked, she resolved to prevent that by opening and closing her fists.  How quickly you forget us, spoke the shadows. It was difficult to tell which. They all melted together. But that single sentence was enough to make her remember who she was. She was the daughter of Nyx. Darkness was her legacy. Speaking to it, wielding it, that was her prerogative. 

Luna. She spoke as softly and as low as she could so that she wouldn’t spark the interest of any creatures lurking nearby. 

Luna. She spoke her sister’s name once again, and when that went unanswered, she took several steps in an unknown direction, feeling her way around with her hands. Thorns pierced her skin. Her blue oversized blue zip-up hoodie snagged on the branches. She could swear they were clawing at her face, back, thighs, and neck. The bark was so rough, she couldn’t lean on it for long. But the cold lessened the pain of the abrasions. 

 Luna, it’s me, Y/n. She tried a third time, never stopping to look into the darkness for fear of what she might find staring back. Answer me if you can hear me. Don’t scream or you will alert the monsters. Listen to the darkness and it will lead you to me.  

No response, and after a few minutes of unendurable silence Y/n could no longer keep her breathing steady. She could hear her heart hammering away. Her blood rushing throughout. The ringing in her ears drowned out all sounds, which was dangerous considering where she was. 

She recalled the way she had torn through the forest years ago. Her tunnel vision had proven useful back then. It had given her courage, the strength she needed to charge towards her purpose. Now it hindered her senses. She was going to get mauled before she could find Luna. It would all be for naught. All because she hadn’t honed the ability to commune telepathically with the shadows. It drove her mad to think about it. 

But she kept going. It seemed like a sin to stand still. 

North. 

She knew it was the darkness. No one spoke to her like it did. But did it actually expect her to be able to tell which way north was? She could barely tell which way was left and right. Y/n looked into the dark, truly gazed into it. She could make out certain shapes; owls on the trees, squirrels nibbling on nuts, and other larger-sized silhouettes prowling. Surely that couldn’t be north. 

When Y/n turned right, the darkness spoke again. It sounded annoyed. North! 

“I don’t know.” She hissed. “I don’t know which way north is. I’m not a fucking compass.” 

This time she turned left. This must be the way because when she next heard the darkness speak, it sounded almost relieved. North. 

“Thank you.” She whispered. “That’s how we’ll communicate.” 

As she walked north for what seemed like an eternity but must have been just half an hour at most, she noticed the forest getting brighter. It flickered like the lights at their apartment. Only this fractured the darkness at even intervals, like a regular heartbeat that supplied the rest of the entire harrowing expanse of the wild with life. She gravitated toward it, drawn by the fluorescent aquamarine hue of the veiny roots and the scent of pine needles. The latter made the ground soft for walking, cushioning the footfall. 

The closer Y/n got to the source, the more she could tell wasn’t the only one entranced by it. At first, all she heard were rushing currents, muffled sounds, then sobs, and lastly the voice of an adult male. 

“Do you like flowers, little one,” it said, and his voice gave her chills. 

Y/n didn’t need to hear the child speak. Her sniffling was enough. 

“Yes.” Luna hiccupped. 

Y/n was now behind the tree, petrified at the thought of what this man might be. Was he even a man? He looked like it; black hair curled at the ends, clad in a white blouse and ironed pants much too crisp for their surroundings. There should at least be some splatters of water or soaking hems. His clothed feet were in the stream after all. 

The man bent down and plucked a blade of grass. It spiraled around his index finger and then sprung free, fluorescent petals of green and blue spreading like feathered wings. 

“Here, then,” he said gently, waiting for her to accept his creation as he placed his hand on top of her head. “Beautiful thing, is it not?” 

Luna nodded, her small fist closing around the glowing stem. The man’s mouth twitched. 

“You may take it home with you if you wish.” He told her. 

Y/n couldn’t hide any longer. 

“Luna?” She called out, finally appearing on the other side of the stream. “Luna, throw that away.” 

“Y/n!” Luna screamed for joy, crossing without fear of being swept away by the current. “Y/n, you came! You’re here! You came for me!” 

The little girl pressed her face into Y/n’s hoodie and the latter responded by wrapping her scrawny arms around the girl’s shoulders. 

“Of course, I did. I came to take you home.” 

“I don’t want to.” Luna’s voice came out muffled. 

“What do you mean- 

“I don’t want to! I don’t want to go home!” 

“Luna, they won’t hurt you. I won’t let them, remember?” Y/n tried to reason, rubbing the back of her head as her eyes flicked up at the man on the other side. “Do you remember what I told you to say if anyone asks?” 

Her little fists tighten around Y/n’s hoodie. 

“I was in bed sleeping. Then you suddenly remembered to go pick up something from a store at the square.” 

“Yes, that’s right.” Y/n encouraged her. “And when I arrived there, people were crowded around the fountain.” 

Luna makes a choking sound. “And then you came straight home to make sure I was okay.” 

“That whoever had done that hadn’t hurt you.” Y/n finished but it didn’t do anything to calm her down. On the contrary, her body tensed up against hers. “See, they can’t say anything bad about you.” 

“But I’m- 

“It’s time you went home, little one.” 

The man’s voice commanded their attention, even if the way he spoke was deceptively soothing. Luna loosened her hold and held onto her arm instead. Its petals unbruised, the flower remained in her hand. 

“Thank you.” She said, “For looking after her.” 

“Hardly. It is you I wished to have a word with.” He revealed quite plainly. Y/n waited for him to speak his peace, which he seemed to understand. “Tell the wretched vermin not to be so awfully stingy.” 

Then, he turned on his heel. Before he disappeared, he craned his head a little and cast them one last glance. 

“And keep that flower.” He told them. “It is, by far, the most precious thing you own.” 

With that, he vanished from the shallow creek, leaving them to stand beneath the arching branches overhead, watching their glow sink into the bed of the stream, particles reflected off the current which got more violent by the second. They had to get out of there at once. So, they went south, walking as fast as they could without raising hell in their wake. Still, twigs snapped under their feet. Their breathing grew more labored as they neared the spot from which Y/n had entered. A little further and they would get to the clearing. But to do that they first had to claw through the barrier of thorns that had blocked her exit just moments before the darkness had swallowed her. 

Glued to her side, Luna trembled with fear. Her heels dug into the ground. 

“Please,” Came her quivering imploration, “Please, don’t take me there. I don’t want to go back.” 

Y/n couldn’t see her face, only the shivering frame of a little girl. 

“If we leave, they’ll find us.” She tried to reason once again. “Nothing could save us then.” 

No reply. Sensing that Luna wasn’t going to be convinced to follow her out of the forest, Y/n began to panic. Nothing would convince the scared child clinging to her arm to step back into misery. A place, she was certain would not dither to sentence her for a crime they believed her to have committed. It was a losing game. The least she could do was gamble one last time. 

She set down her backpack and felt around inside its pocket for the muffin she had previously stuffed in there. After fishing it out, she placed it on Luna’s hand, the one clasping hers, and let the girl bring it up to her nose. 

“It’s a muffin,” Y/n confirmed. “I got it from the cafeteria like I told you I would. But if we leave, we won’t be able to have food like this ever again. I’m no one outside of this camp. I’m not a person. I can’t get a job and cook warm food for us every day. We would starve, and I don’t want you to suffer, Luna.” She clasped Luna’s hand into her own. “If we stay, I can get all sorts of things for you. Food, clothes, and maybe a better house one day. Then, you can leave and I’ll stay.” 

She could feel her little sister tensing up and about to cry. 

“Okay,” She said in a wobbly voice, “I’ll come with you.” 

That was all Y/n needed to face the barrier of thorns and start clawing through it. She was not strong. That much she knew. But maybe her perseverance would suffice. Maybe the darkness would lend her a shadowy hand and snap each branch one by one, even as the thorns tore at her clothes and the rough branches broke the skin. Maybe crawling through it, roughed up and bloodied with her sister unharmed, would be enough. Maybe all the forest sought was her blood. Maybe it was divine. Maybe it was human after all. 

It seemed like an eternity before they saw light peeking through the thorns, which somehow had made it their missing to grow behind them even as she clawed through. Meaning she had to be more brutal. Charge faster towards the beckoning light of the clearing. 

What she had anticipated and tried to deny, was the welcoming party. A squadron of a hundred and fifty demigod warriors awaited their return; spears raised, blades drawn, arrows nocked. The celestial bronze was almost blinding in the glow of the afternoon sun. In stark contrast with the gloomy wilderness from which they had emerged. 

An imposing figure led the troops, standing proud was Shin Ryujin. 

“Do not resist.” She commanded. Luna took shelter behind her. The action didn’t go unnoticed by the daughter of Bellona, who called four of her subordinates forward. “Seize them.” 

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