#her would lead her to someone else in order to keep her safe. so maybe all of that is part of the reason the keyblade inheritance ceremony

[acmeangel]

♡ Help me decide on a longer fic idea! ♡

I don't know when I'll write it, but I at least want to start thinking about plot ideas for something more substantial. (And this wouldn’t mean I’d stop writing requests.) Respond or inbox me with thoughts!

☆ Option 1: Canon!Levi x Female!Reader: Paradis has just found out that the rest of the world exists, and with that, that they’re about a century behind every other nation. It’s time to form alliances. Y/N is a Princess from a neighboring nation, and her father, the King, is interested in working out a mutually beneficial arrangement. Together, they visit Paradis, and while they’re there, the King demands that the most skilled soldier in all of Paradis guard Y/N and keep her safe. That’s where Levi comes in; he’s ordered to protect Y/N at all costs (he thinks it’s a bit below him, but it’s an order). Bonus: in Y/N’s culture, royal women have to wear a veil at all times until married, so Levi doesn’t ever get to see what she looks like.

☆ Option 2: Canon!Levi x Female!Reader: The Scouts have just uncovered that Marley is their real enemy. Levi Squad is sent on an undercover recon mission to gather intelligence on Marley to see if they can gain the upper hand; they don’t have the same military capabilities as Marley, so they’ll need all the information they can get. Levi meets Y/N, the daughter of [military official person probably] who could be the key to getting the precious intel The Scouts need. Levi has to pretend to be someone else while he gets to know Y/N and tries to learn her secrets, but in the process, he might actually come to like Y/N — the enemy. Big enemies to lovers vibes.

☆ Option 3: Canon!Levi x Female!Reader: Y/N and Levi both grew up in the Underground. Y/N, much like Levi, didn't have family to count on and had to fend for herself; however, because she was just an ordinary kid, she had a hard time defending herself. Levi, who was just a couple years older, always seemed to appear and defend Y/N throughout their childhood, and Y/N would repay him with food or a place to stay. They became friends over time, and cared for one another, but Levi eventually joins the Scouts, and Y/N is left to fend for herself in the Underground. Will they reunite? Will Y/N have to toughen up and lead the life of a criminal? What will happen if their paths cross years later, as adults?

☆ Option 4: Canon!Levi x Female!Reader: This one's a little half-baked, but Y/N is a civilian woman, living inside the walls. She lives an ordinary life; maybe she's a bartender or a seamstress or something like that. One way or another, her and Levi become friendly; this is all pre-Shiganshina-Attack, so while things are busy with the Scouts, the real storm hasn't hit yet. Y/N and Levi begin writing each other letters now and then, and Y/N develops romantic feelings for Levi and accidentally sends him a rather intimate note (inspired by Atonement lol). This sparks something within Levi, but before they can do anything about it, the Titans break through the walls and Levi is too consumed with duty to be able to visit her anymore. Y/N has no clue if or when she'll see Levi again, but even despite this, she can't seem to be able to fall for anyone else. Will they ever get to see each other again? (Very Hozier singing "Do I Wanna Know?" YEARNING, LONGING vibes)

(For logistics, would have to tweak canon story things in these fics because duh.)

I clearly tend to think of ideas within the canon universe, but if anyone has any compelling non-canon ideas, I’d love to hear them!

[oveliagirlhaditright]

So for no reason at all I'm thinking about this:

Sora was not chosen by a Keyblade Master to be a Keyblade wielder, but he becomes a Keyblade wielder before anyone else in the Destiny Trio (yes, I know, Riku's Keyblade--the Kingdom Key--had shown up on the Destiny Islands for Riku, but when Riku chose darkness over light, it opted to go with Sora instead: and there it would ultimately stay and Riku would get a different Keyblade later).

Riku was chosen by a Master to be a Keyblade wielder, and he's the third of the Destiny Trio to get his Keyblade, though still treated so much better than Kairi is, and truly gets to use his Keyblade before her (in having big adventures where he gets to use it, and whatnot): as I'm sure no one is really counting the three Heartless that Kairi killed with hers in KHII.

Kairi was accidentally chosen to be a wielder by a Keyblade Master (Aqua triggered the Keyblade Inheritance Ceremony with her by accident, that is), and this actually happens before the scene where Terra chooses Riku. But it's an accidental thing, which definitely stings a bit. And Kairi is the second of the Destiny Trio to get her Keyblade... though in a lot of ways, you wouldn't guess that.

Edit: I'm wrong. Riku gets his Keyblade second, and Kairi gets hers third, as Riku has his Keyblade when he protects Kairi and Naminé from Saïx. I, and another user on her at what point, just got confused because of Riku (if you talk to him as Sora when you beat Luxord) mentioning how he doesn't think Sora needs the power of darkness or his Soul Eater yet, which almost sounds like he still has Soul Eater at the time, when he doesn't. What a weird line just overall. -shrugs-

[ceilidho]

forced throuple (soap/ghost/reader)

i've been ruminating on this idea for awhile, that basically after the Alone campaign and after getting out of Las Almas, Ghost more or less decided that Soap is his person. sort of like his pack. and it's only obvious that anyone Soap considers family would also get lumped into his pack as well.

Ghost doesn't keep very many people close - even those that he considers close (Price, Gaz, Roach, etc), he keeps at something of a distance. this is exemplified by the way he still clings to the possibility of betrayal (like telling Soap that "people you trust can hurt you the most"), but after Las Almas, I think something flips in him.

There's a switch that's been off for years, maybe even close to a decade, and it flips back online when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes and it twists something in his chest. I don't think he would've even had something like that before, definitely not during his youth when he was still overcoming his childhood trauma and certainly not after everything that lead up to Simon becoming Ghost.

I don't even think Ghost would be particularly upset if Soap came back from leave one day with a girlfriend; he trusts Soap's judgment completely. And once he sees her for himself, pretty as pie tucked under his sergeant's arm (all small and doe eyed, smart as a whip when she opens her mouth), all that does is confirm his assumption.

It takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost's brain to file her under "mine", slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn't that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny.

Soap would be distinctly uncomfortable at first. There's a fine line between having Ghost's undivided attention (and oh, he eats it up at first, struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy for being Ghost's favourite and abject curiosity/horror) and having Ghost's....complete....undivided....attention.

Like Soap just wants to parade his new girlfriend around (she's sweet but snippy, everything he's ever wanted in a partner) in front of his colleagues, but then Ghost gropes her ass in front of everyone on base (because by then, Ghost has already started to think of the two of them as 'his' in his head) and Soap just stares, mouth dry, absolutely humiliated but no idea what to do (he's just thinking over and over again, "Do I tell him to stop, what do I DO??")

Because Ghost is his buddy, his best friend, his CO - Soap trusts Ghost implicitly, would put his whole life in his hands and know that Ghost would keep him safe.

So he doesn't get it at first? Maybe he thinks Ghost is actually interested in his girlfriend and it wrecks him because Soap can see himself really falling for this girl, but Ghost is also like - he's a part of him. He probably briefly does consider just letting Ghost have her, conceding defeat.

Ghost would correct that assumption soooo quick. There isn't a version of him that wants someone who doesn't also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they've been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Soap wants - he almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny's thoughts into his.

Like Soap genuinely likes having all of Ghost's attention on him because he's a bit of an attention whore but it's a bit different when his LT is holding his head down into his girlfriend's pussy and telling him exactly how to rub his tongue over her clit.

Worse because Ghost's hand curls around his cock when he guides him through it, slick with lube. Almost too tight at first, clearly mimicking the way Simon likes to jerk himself off, even though Johnny prefers a slightly looser grip, a little slower, more indulgent.

Worse still when Ghost positions Soap over her, big hands on his hips and Soap has never felt like he had narrow hips until this very second. Lube drizzled over the furl of his entrance and his head spinning, staring down into his girlfriend's eyes as she watches the two of them wide eyed, still so anxious and it makes him want to sooth her, coo down at her that he's got her and everything's going to be just fine, but that thought is snipped right out of him when Simon lines himself up and presses in and his vision just goes white.

This whooollleeeee au is basically "when a bigger, stronger guy hits on ur gf but it's ok bc he also wants to plow u (her boyfriend)"

[coupleoffanfics]

How would Batsis! y/n become a villain?

I found this while trying to clean up my writing drafts. Not sure when I wrote this, but I decided to post it because why not.

Jerome Route

If she had no friends, that connection with Barbara, or relationship with Jeremiah then Jerome would have a considerably easier time charming y/n. The emotional neglect from the family makes her desperate for any sort of contention leading her right into the hands of Jerome.

The family would believe that y/n can be saved, but she sees them trying to save face. Trying to stop her from telling Jerome all the big bad Batman's secrets by saying they're sorry and that they care. She doesn't end up telling him about their identities because someone has to keep Gotham safe. She's with Jerome, but she doesn't agree with everything he does.

y/n might purposefully sabotage Jerome's schemes. It's not because she cares for the family, no. It's for Batman and his Robins to keep innocent people safe. She keeps the family and their personas separate. At least she'll try to see them as separate.

Her logic is backwards and hypocritical, but frankly she doesn't care enough anymore. All that matters is Jerome's love. Who needs friends or family when you can have Jerome?

y/n and Jerome probably argued over wedding ideas.. Jerome wants a circus theme with a replica of his mom as a pinata. While y/n wants a traditional, elegant wedding. They compromise by letting y/n have that traditional vibe with the ceremony and Jerome can go batshit with the reception.

Jerome never put so much thought into something before and he never wants to do that again.

The Batfamily was not invited of course. The family most likely hears about it or even sends wedding photos. y/n probably has Joker or some other villain walk her down the aisle. Bruce sulks about it for months.

Post-Spray Jeremiah Route

If y/n had no one else besides Jeremiah and her moral compass was cracked. Then of course she's almost going to believe everything he tells her.

There's no denying that Gotham is a modern day Babylon. Yeah, the world would be better without it. Maybe it would be a good thing if we do get rid of it. Yeah, we could rebuild it!

But she'll run into the same problem of not fully following Jeremiah's ideology. At least how he goes about obtaining the goal of cleaning up Gotham. The cult stuff freaks her out a lot. When his followers bow down to her and praise her, she'll tell them to stop but he orders them to do that.

After expressing her discomfort over the cult and the followers' behavior, Jeremiah will distance her from it. Having her become sheltered in the bunker or a manor hidden away in the woods. Meaning the only relationship she can have with anyone who isn't Jeremiah is Ecco. Even then Ecco is  just another follower that was trained to be a guard dog.

This version of y/n wouldn't be too involved compared to the Jerome route. But if Jeremiah was caught and sent to Arkham, y/n is sneaking in to break him out. It could be by disguising herself as a guard or forcefully entering it with full confidence.

The family would try to reason with her if only they could actually talk to her. Again since she's not hands on it's a rarity for them to see her.

The few times they've met face to face was when their hero personas. Jeremiah and Ecco were busy fighting off the others, giving them time to talk. If they try to convince her to leave him, she'll either ignore it or tell them about how he's all she ever had. The only family member that could possibly break through to y/n would probably be Jason or maybe even Barbara.

Jeremiah and y/n get offended when they're compared to Joker and Harley. They'll clearly be different because they have a healthy and loving relationship. People probably come up with the comparison because of his physical appearance and he hates it. They're not wrong when they say their relationship is loving, but it being healthy is debatable.

y/n is more than willing to kill or torture someone if they were to do anything to Jeremiah. Though once again her hands are off, but doesn't mind getting her hands dirty.

y/n is the type to write like love letters and put them into Jeremiah's pocket before he leaves. He's in the middle of fighting Batman and suddenly a pink paper with a red heart border falls out of his pocket. Seeing it makes him scramble to grab it and shove it back into his pocket. He'll read it later.

This y/n might live a more semi-normal life, but probably struggles with loneliness and depression. Since Jeremiah is often working and Ecco is Ecco.

Sprayed Route

The moment y/n realizes what is happening she goes to Jeremiah and contacts Barbara who informs the family. They'd probably find a cure, but for the sake of story and angst let's say they can't.

Everyone is just forced to watch y/n become what essentially a Joker lookalike. Or she could look completely the same, doesn't really matter because they'll all be horrified by the drastic change.

She'd use the knowledge of their identities against them. Dangling it above their heads, but it isn't long before they realize that she isn't going to say anything. Oh, but she's definitely telling Jeremiah all about this. Of course he swears to never tell anyone and he might start working with the family to lock y/n up.

Not only was she endangering herself, but others as well. The best thing for everyone is to lock her up.

If she learns about Jeremiah working against her. She'd be so heartbroken. Violently throwing and smashing everything in the room she was in before coming up with an idea. 'He'd never be against me, they probably forced him to work for them. It's all their fault. They always ruin everything, but I won't let them take him.'

Out of all of the other possible routes this y/n would be the most vindictive. She'll guilt trip the family with her sob stories of their neglect, their personas won't won't react. But she knows they'll be thinking about what she said hours later. She'll spit out insults and won't hold back fighting.

Her once passive and defensive fighting style has completely flipped to almost recklessly aggressive. The only way she'll stop fighting back is if they restrain or knock her out.

Arkham isn't hard for her to adjust to. She'll explain to her few visitors (Jeremiah, Barbara, and Alfred) that it reminds her of Wayne manor. But less lonely.

Barbara and Alfred are the only family members she'll allow to visit her. As she still has a bit of a soft spot for them. Will not admit it, but she's always pleasantly surprised when Babs visits her or Alfred sends her some of his cooking. It almost makes her tear up and feel immense sadness. Just almost.

Probably besties with Riddler or something. Most Arkham inmates know of the name Jeremiah Valeska by how much y/n will mindlessly ramble about him. They also know not to mess with him because they'll be put on top of her shit list.

Masterlist Here

[bri-the-fando-meister]

You're Safe With Me

-------------------------

Minho x reader female

Summary: Minho is out on a daily run to map the maze and he finds a girl trapped in the maze, on her own, with no sign of how she got there. Minho takes her back to the glade, and looks after her for her first night.

Word count: 1950

Read time : 13 minutes

-------------------------

Cool rock on your face, littered with debris. Nice and relaxing coolness, want to sleep. Dust filling air, hard to breathe, want to cough, dry throat, can't cough. Constant thump, distant and mesmerizing. Loud breathing, mine or someone else's?

"I want sleep, but where am I?" you croak, burning your throat as you speak. You opened your eyes.

Walls, tall and ancient , ivy covered walls, three walls surrounding you, one long corridor. Trapped, your chest felt tight and you found it hard to breathe.

You got up and walked toward the end of the corridor and saw two exits, you took a step back, hide.

The thumps got louder, closer and closer. And heavy breathing followed it. Someone was there. Who. Maybe it's a person.

I should check. But I am scared. I should check. My chest is tight again.

Dizzy, spinning walls, the dirt is flying. Must. Check. Now. Sit down before I fall. Yell out, now sitting, I am safe.

"Help me! Where am I?" you croaked half yelling.

"Who are you, where are you? How did you get in here? I am going to find you." a voice replied.

"O-ok"

"just stay where you are." it ordered

You were sitting too close to the entryway of your corridor. So that's when he saw you and you saw him, he kind of, almost, maybe ran into you.

He lowered his body to match your height and reached one of his arms to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, you flinched.

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay. You are safe now. Let's get you out of here and get you some food and water." the boy spoke gently "You are safe with me."

He hooked his arm over your shoulders and using his free hand, he held onto your hands.

"It's okay, you are safe, I promise"

"I get that I am safe but, but are there more of you? Like, more people?"

"Yeah, there are more people, they are all great people."

"Okay then, keep them away from me. By the way, what is your name?"

"My name? Minho. I am Minho"

"Okay Minho, I don't want to meet your friends."

You stopped walking, you understood he was taking you to them.

"I know that you are scared, but please, you need to keep moving. How about you, what is your name?"

"Y/n"

After an hour of walking and being dragged, you had arrived to a point where there was a break in the walls, leading out to a grassy square, filled with boys running about, working.

You hid around a corner, "No, I am not going." It didn't faze Minho as he walked into the grassy place and yelled.

"Alby! I am back!" a boy came running to Minho

"Newt, where's Alby? I need to show him something"

"Sorry Minho, he can't come, he is dealing with something important at the moment."

"Okay then Newt, if you say so. You are going to want to see this."

Minho began leading the boy assumably called Newt to your location, you told him you didn't want to meet anyone else.

"Minho, NO, I told you I didn't want to meet your stupid friends"

"Minho, who the shuck said that?"

"Ahhh, does Alby's important business have something to do with no greenie being in the box when it came up?" you poked your head around the corner to listen in.

"Yeah....."

"Well, Newt. I found our greenie in the middle of the maze." He gestured foy you to come to him.

"Come on darling, it's okay. This is Newt, he is really nice. Remember, I promised that you would be safe with me." Newt waved.

You began to slowly walk to the two boys, when you got there you grabbed Minho's arm and hugged it closely for comfort, he looked down at you and swilled a warm smile.

"Minho, I want you to come back with me, I feel safe in there, come back with me." you began to tug his arm, but his tall muscular build made it impossible to move him. After giving up you just walked back into the walls, Minho followed. Newt yelled to him. "Minho, you have like, 30 seconds to get out."

"Look, you need to get out of here, it isn't safe in here, you could die on your own."

"Minho, Get out now!" Newt yelled

"I am sorry, but you have to move"

"10-9" Minho picked you up and began to run "8-7-6-5" a few meters left to the grass "4-3" A giant gust of wind "2" you fell out of Minho's arms and landed on the grass "1" BANG!

"You still want to be in there now? You could have died for shuck sake. What were you thinking?" Newt was yelling at you. You began to cry, you didn't like yelling.

Yelling hurt, you couldn't quite connect the dots but, you remembered when you were yelled at, you would get hit.

You cowered, bracing for impact through heavy sobs. "Please don't hit me. Please don't. Don't hit me. Don't yell. What did I do wrong. I am sorry. Just hit me."

You cried so hard and found it hard to breathe, "Just hit me already, I am used to it. Sorry for being a burden."

When you didn't get hit you decided to see what was happening, so you turned your head. When you turned around you saw Minho having a go at Newt because of what he did. Newt pointed at you and spoke to Minho "You might want to talk to her, calm her down"

"Hey, hey. It's okay" he sat down on the grass with you, you were curled up in a loose ball so he wrapped himself around you. Giving you a warm hug.

"Do you want me to just be here, or do you want me to comfort you?"

"Both." you said, in broken sobs "I don't think that I like Newt."

"I get that you might not like him but, he was yelling out of concern, you could have died today, and he was very worried about you."

"I know, I, I just remember that whenever I got yelled at, I would be hit until I couldn't feel it anymore. Yelling hurts, I don't like it"

"He is sorry, I already talked to him, he didn't know that that triggered you."

"Okay, it was just a bit scary."

"I know, it's okay now. I promise, you are safe. Also, meet Alby, he is our leader."

"Hey there greenie, I see you have already made close friends with my best man."

"How long have you been watching?"

"I have been standing there since I heard you bawling your eyes out. Sorry about Newt, he was just really worried about you, he always is worried about the green-beans. By the way, what's your name?"

"Y/n, that's my name."

"Well then Y/n, we are going to need to find you some sleeping arrangements, it is already dark."

"Okay, where can I sleep?"

"We have some huts, some of the guys already sleep in them, the most important ones at least. Lucky Minho has one. And we have some hammocks outside the homestead. Your choice."

"Minho, can I sleep in your hut? I can take the floor if you want."

"Uhh, sure. If you really want to, I will take the floor though."

"Well, Y/n, now you have sleeping arrangements you'd be best to go have a sleep, you have had a rough day. We will need to talk in the morning so we can set a few boundaries."

Minho helped pull you up off of the ground.

"Let's go, I will show you my hut." he smiled so warmly that you couldn't help but calm down a bit.

He hooked his arm around your waist and walked you away to his hut.

"Here we are Y/n, this is my hut, just let me unlock it" he fumbled around his pocket for his keys and finally fished them out. when he unlocked it you got a strong smell of woodiness and a bit of boy funk, but it was quite comforting.

The room was about three meters by three meters, not too big but big enough to have his bed and chair in there.

He pushed the chair into the corner and placed a sleeping bag on the floor. He made the bed and pulled all the sheets back into place and put the pillow back on the bed. It wasn't much but it was his hut, it had bits of paper strewn everywhere and had notes scrawled on them.

He pointed to the bed "Sleep, you need it"

"But, what about you, you don't need to sleep on the floor."

"I can sleep in the sleeping bag, I say you sleep on the bed, so do it."

You got into his bed and curled up under his covers. The smell of them were so comforting. You couldn't sleep though, you felt too vulnerable, you could be hit while you were asleep, nightmares could come.

After what felt like hours of tossing and turning you finally gave up trying to sleep, you were too scared.

"Minho, are you still awake"

"Yeah, what's up Y/n? To busy wanting to talk to me than sleep hey?" Minho was half-asleep, he spoke groggily, he sounded like he was drunk.

"I can't sleep, I am too scared, I don't want to be here."

Minho got up and sat on the end of the bed.

"Look, you need to go to sleep, it isn't healthy being awake for too long. What can I do to help you sleep?"

"I don't know, I don't feel safe, what if Newt comes and yells again, and hits me this time?" You sat up. "I don't want to be alone."

"You aren't alone Y/n, how about I sit next to you until you fall asleep. Do you think that would help?"

"O-ok. Thanks"

"Would you mind scooching over though, so I can sit next to you."

"Yeah, sure." you shuffled over so that you were a bit closer to the wall.

Minho stood up and walked towards your end of the bed and sat down, well actually, more like he fell. "Sorry Y/n, just tripped on my shucking rubbish"

He pulled the covers off of you and shifted his body down so that he was lay next to you. Then he pulled the covers back onto both of you.

"Thanks Minho, I, I just don't feel safe here, or anywhere. It's like I am missing something."

Minho began to fiddle with your hair.

"You know Y/n, I think that you are overreacting. And you also need a hug"

Minho forced his arm under your back and pulled you into his warm chest, embracing you, comforting you. "Remember, I told you that you are safe with me"

"Minho, thankyou, thanks for making me feel safe, making me feel like I am worth it."

"Anytime Y/n, but maybe next time, do what you're told, you could have died today, if it weren't for Newt, I wouldn't have gotten you out in time."

"He's still scary though" you mumbled, groggily.

The warmth of Minho's chest was comforting, soothing and relaxing. You were in just the right spot to listen to his heartbeat, it was almost as mesmerizing as his footsteps when he was running.

"Y/n, I understand that, but I will keep you safe, I will protect you. so go to sleep now, I will too, I am already too comfy to go back to my sleeping bag."

You chuckled.

"Okay Minho, goodnight" then you were out like a light.

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[chronicowboy]

Chimney doesn't tear his eyes away from Buck for a single second. Hen is pretty sure that if blinking weren't a necessity, he wouldn't look away from him at all. She wonders if he can even see anything through the constant film of tears, wonders whether its the guilt or the possibility of losing another brother that keeps him from stepping away. Even if she knew, she wouldn't be able to fix it.

Eddie, on the other hand, hasn't shot more than a fleeting glance through the window. He keeps his eyes on the ground or fixed on some far-off detail no one else can see. His blinks are slow and long like he's crying in three second intervals behind closed eyelids. She has a stronger idea of what it is keeping Eddie from facing the gaunt figure of Buck dwarfed by tubes and machines. She knows she can't fix this.

But she can help.

So, when Albert arrives, sombre and downcast, she asks for his and Chim's coffee orders before guiding Eddie away by the elbow. He follows without a fight like a puppet with his strings cut. He goes wherever she leads him with dragging feet like a duckling following its mother.

She sits him down at an empty table in an abandoned corner of the café, and Eddie blinks once, twice, three times before he frowns over at the line.

"I thought we were getting coffee," he rasps.

"In a minute." She takes his hand on the tabletop, and he looks at it like its a viper about to strike before his eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, talk to me."

"I-I can't," he whispers, "I can't talk about this."

"Eddie..."

"No, Hen, what right do I have to talk about him?" he seethes, words jagged with anger and broken by tears. "Everyone's known him longer. Everyone's known him longer than me. He's Bobby's kid, Maddie's brother, Chimney's brother-in-law. Hell, he's your little brother too, and you've known him longer than me, but he's not a brother to me, so what right do I have to..." He balls his free hand into a fist and presses it against his mouth.

"Eddie, you have every right." Hen slides him a napkin when he starts picking at the skin around his nails and he wastes no time in tearing it up into tiny pieces. "We may have known him longer, but no one knows him more than you." Eddie grabs another napkin to shred, jaw clenching. "Not even Maddie anymore, I don't think."

"Maybe." Eddie shrugs and its a terrible, horrible thing. All tension and fear. It reminds Hen of the Eddie that had said I'm leaving the 118 and didn't show up to team nights at the bar. "But she's his sister, she has rights to see him. What do I have?"

"Is that why you won't look at him?"

"I won't look at him because the last time someone I loved had a tube down their throat they never woke up!" Eddie startles at his own outburst, slumping back in his chair. He really does look like a puppet cut from its strings. "My last partner never woke up."

Hen flounders a little here. Honestly, even if she wasn't grief-stricken and running on two hours of sleep, she's not sure she'd know how to handle this. Its always difficult finding the right balance with Eddie, when to push and when to let him flee, but right now it feels like more of a knife edge than ever.

Does he know what he's just admitted or is it still hidden under a thousand justifications and exceptions? If he does know, does he want to talk about it or politely pretend it never happened? Should she help him figure it out or would that only do more damage if Buck never woke up?

"How's Christopher?" she manages eventually. He's a safe topic, a subject that will keep Eddie talking whilst also quite possibly giving her more insight into his little slip.

"Better than me," he sighs, grabs another napkin. "I could barely get through telling him. I think he thought he was dead." Eddie swallows. "When I finally got through it, he lit up with hope and, fuck, it broke my heart, Hen." He drags his hands down his face so roughly Hen can't help but think he's trying to distract himself with a more concrete pain. "I never thought I'd see the day when his smile made me feel anything other than happy, but it just made me angry."

"At who?"

"Buck." Eddie chokes on the word, something gruesome caught in his throat. "I wanted to yell at him, scream at him. Tell him that he's not allowed to leave. He's never been the one that leaves. I wanted to tell him that he can't leave me and Christopher alone again, he can't make me do this alone again. He promised to have my back, Hen. And, fuck, I gave him Christopher because he was never supposed to be the one in the hospital bed." Hen blinks. Does that mean what she thinks it means? She remembers something complicated passing over Buck's expression in a split second when she'd asked him if he was capable of being a father and walking away. "I was ready to storm in there and beg him to just wake the fuck up, but I couldn't make it through the door." He drops his head into his hands with a wet and broken chuckle. "Buck broke down a door to save me, and I couldn't even..."

"Eddie, listen to me." Hen cups his cheek and tilts his face so he can meet her eye. "That boy will wake up. You know we're not allowed to make promises, but I'm making you this promise because I've never been more certain of anything." And, truth is, before this, she hadn't been certain of that at all. But suddenly, a lot of things make a lot more sense. And Hen knows without a shadow of a doubt that Buck will come back to them, to Eddie and Christopher. "I could say the usual stuff. How he's a fighter, how he never gives up. But, Eddie, Buck will come back to you. Think about everything he's done for you and Chris over the years. He's not gonna let a little lightning stop him from coming home. Because he has something good, something wonderful, waiting for him right here. He has the family he's always dreamt of with you and Chris, and nothing could ever keep him away from that."

"Do you think he knows?" Eddie whispers, tears spilling over.

"I think he does. Somewhere in there, he knows, but I don't think it'd hurt to make sure he knows once he's awake." Hen wipes away a tear and pats his cheek gently. "He'll wake up, Eddie."

Later, after the barista tells them they're out of oat milk, after Chimney finally goes home, after Hen finds enough strength to sit at Buck's bedside, Eddie sneaks Christopher into Buck's room, and she can't even find it in herself to be surprised.

The only surprise is that Buck doesn't wake up.

[that-green-haired-swordsman]

Found this on Pinterest and it's not meant to be taken too seriously, but yeah, I get where this comes from. Usually you see Zoro being pictured as either a sex machine or as aromantic/ace, and literally never anything in between, and I personally believe that either of these takes is true. It's a manga of the shonen genre and follows the respective, genre-based rules. My interpretation of the character is that he undoubtedly puts his goal(s) on top of everything else. Luffy gets to become the pirate king. Zoro himself is going to be the world's strongest swordsman. Period. BUT. These ambitions go hand in hand with a sacrifice, at least to Zoro. This is going to be a long read and I have to digress a bit so please be patient lol.

Zoro has lost the person most important to him and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He couldn't protect Kuina. Now, we don't know his own knowledge of his parents, but I always assumed that his desire to become stronger and stronger is a direct result of the loss of his parents, something he witnessed, but couldn't do anything about it either. So he chose to follow his father's footsteps and became a swordsman, trained in Koushiro's dojo, driven by anxiety. He made friends with Kuina who died too. And then he swore to himself that never again he would anyone ever become close to him. He traveled alone and at first and kept his distance to Luffy, Nami and the others.

But there's no way to fight human nature. Slowly, he allowed himself and them to get closer and he found it comfortable to be around them, but accepting that they're his friends also multiplies his anxiety and ultimate weakness: losing someone again. He not only wants to become stronger to be the WGS, he also thinks it's the only way to protect his loved ones. When he struggles with an opponent, he can be seen training even harder afterwards. He takes the night's watch. He guards the ship. He only sleeps when someone else is awake. He tells the others to escape when it's dangerous. He tries to take incoming damage alone. He refuses that anyone sacrifices themselves and knocks them out should they try (Sanji @ Thriller Bark). He keeps things a secret. He holds back emotions to remain collected and supportive. The further along they travel, the more of his humanity he has to lose in order to keep them all safe.

Back to the original intention of this post. Zoro has kind of a soft spot for women who need help with something. They just trigger his protective instinct. But he also tries to keep away from any woman because they'd weaken him. And he can't afford to be weak. A woman by his side would mean he'd have to look after her, provide for her, protect her, make sure she's alright, take better care of himself in order to be there for her, all things he simply can't afford and which distract him from his goal (he would think that way, being a bit traditional). Maybe he doesn't trust himself to remain as determined as he was once he's in a relationship. Maybe he's afraid that his partner would try to talk him out of his goal and stand in his way. Which leads me to think how a woman has to be in order to be a good match for him?

We've covered that a woman often triggers his protective sense, I'm not sure though if that is what he finds an important trait. I like to imagine that a woman he'd be interested in has to be similar to himself - independent, strong, able to defend herself, not afraid to put him in his place, self-confident and courageous and most importantly be supportive and understand how he rolls. He wouldn't have to worry about her as much then (he'd still be worried though of course lol). So yeah, ZoTash all the way!

However, even if they'd fall in love during the series, he'd not give in to his feelings before he would have reached his goals, due to the above mentioned reasons. He'd ask her to wait or he wouldn't open up to her until he's the WGS, and then reunite with her and be like "Hey sorry you had to wait" and you know how loyal he is, he'd stay with her until the end of his days. And I think that's another reason why he's not dating a woman - he wants to make sure that she's THE ONE. He's not interested in an affair or something not serious. He's there for the long run. He doesn't give away his heart so easy. He could even play hard to get, to check if his love interest really means it. He wants to protect himself from heartbreak and loss, afraid to experience it ever again.

He wouldn't be a perfect lover, but try hard to be the best version of himself.

[afraidofchange]

Some quick sexual headcanons for Ilona (thank you @hemerasiae and @fvrtvne for inspo on these with our ships).

Ilona is a butch lesbian, with a preference toward feminine women / femmes*. (There are complexities and Discourse™ about the use of the term femme here that I'm not going to get into, but if Ilona existed today, she would identify as a butch and would prefer a femme partner, and would prefer that specific subcultural lesbian dynamic).

That said, Ilona likes giving and receiving pleasure in equal measure. She really enjoys giving her partners pleasure by her doing, but also likes feeling just as good too.

When it comes to matters of dominance/submission, typically, she falls into a switch role; it is very much partner-dependent which way Ilona will lean more. For example, with (Vae's) Neve, we've established that she is much more dominant and Ilona (gladly) takes on a more submissive role. (Really, it is actually Ilona's preference to have a more dominant partner - she doesn't mind taking the lead and initiating, but it lets her give up some of that control in a safe environment; she loves being told what to do/follow orders. But, she can also lead / initiate with someone else if they're more submissive!).

Ilona can either wear the strap or take the strap (but see point above: Neve tops). Her favourite positions for receiving include cowgirl and doggy, but also she is in fact a sucker for eye contact, so missionary is always a solid pick for her. When giving, she'll do anything provided her partner likes it/their bodies make it possible to do (but also, she's often strong enough to do things most people - tall or not - could do).

Because of Ilona's short height of 4'5", she's pretty creative when it comes to using furniture to make the height gap less of an issue. She's more than happy to be sat up on a table, using a stool, or pillows to make it work.

As a dwarf, she's naturally hairy; she can grow facial hair but chooses to shave, and she also keeps her body hair as it is - she has bush and lots of it, and for the most part, does not usually trim unless she's actively having sex and it's necessary for accessibility reasons.

She's open to trying things, though has some reservations about like, harder kinks that might endanger her or her partner in some way. Sure, she might enjoy hickies/biting, and maybe a bit of man-handling or nails down her back, and so on, but anything with a knife or other weapon, something that could cause serious harm? She's not into it. (This includes choking; she just can't get into it, giving or receiving).

Ilona is very physically strong; she can and will carry her partner if they let her, and this can make for some fun positions that might not work otherwise if not for her height difference and strength. (E.g., she can and will prop up a partner up to her shoulders with their back against the wall so Ilona can give them oral).

She really likes having her chin lifted up, and her mouth/lips teased. Maybe it's Maybelline, maybe it's oral fixation, but you will get the 🥺 face from her if you do. (Neve and Isabela both have confirmed this, thank you).

She does not have a single body type preference. She's an equal opportunist lesbian, and has no real swing one way or another for what her partners' body types look like. She can appreciate all women that way.

She enjoys her hair being played with, but especially the shaved undercut. Again, will be putty in your hands if you rake your nails along her shaved sides.

She can and will go for multiple rounds; she's been blessed with the means for multiple orgasms (they range in type and kind depending on clitoral vs penetration or a combo of both; if edged, her orgasm is definitely stronger than not). She also has the stamina and fitness to do a lot of intense, sweaty fucking if the mood calls for it.

[siennasfix]

Pareidolia

Chapter 3 "Tipped scale"

*****

<<<Chapter 2 Chapter 4>>>

Trigger warnings: 1. Mentions of child torture 2. Mentions of child being experimented on in a lab 3. Strangling attempt 4. Imprisonment

The cold and musty dampness of the cell had numbed her buttocks. After having tried to stand for hours on end, she’d gotten so dizzy that the only choice had been to lie down and embrace the high possibility that she would fall ill. Now and again, a shudder would roll through her with such violence it almost knocked the breath out of her.  She could no longer feel her nose and her toes were next. The only thing she could be certain of was the fact that none of this could be as bad for her as it had to be for her little sister. 

Luna had been taken to a different cell, one used to hold prisoners charged with crimes too great for the human world, but not enough to endanger the divine order. The latter granted you a far crueler fate. A trip to the fields of punishment while you were still breathing and not allowed to die. What was the difference at that point? The possibility that you could escape? The knowledge you wouldn’t? 

But she wasn’t there. She wouldn’t be sent there. Luna was only a girl of nine. What she had seen had scarred her, rendering her unable to sleep. She didn’t have the power or the training, least of all the intention, to commit those murders. The council had to understand that. With Y/n a witness, they would understand that. Maybe she could get someone else to testify as well, but so far no one came to mind. No one who didn’t have the influence or intention to make things worse. 

She dreaded the moment she would have to face the council as Professor Philomena Laqueus would be in it, presiding and whispering in the Head’s ear. Her fate was largely decided by those who held no neighborly feelings toward her or her younger sister. She dreaded it… dreaded it. 

But nothing chilled her blood as the thought of all those students being in the hall, a replica of the Colosseum, watching like scavengers for remains to tear off her sister’s corpse, even if they would keep her alive until Y/n died under any circumstance. They needed a blood piggy after all, and they were the last of the Old Bloods on earth. No, they wouldn’t kill her. They would keep her alive, somewhere. Keep her in a state of miserable existence until Luna truly was alone in the world. 

While Y/n was deep in thought, someone was making his way down the corridor leading to the cells below Lex Principalis, each step more uncertain than the one before but with the certainty that if he were to go back, he would sorely regret it. After all the bargaining he had done, the only way was forward. Still, when he stopped before the bars of her cell, she thought him to be a mirage. A cruel creation of her fancy. 

“Did you have to run into the forest like that?” 

Lee Minho wasted no time with formalities or sympathy, even if he wished he could spare the time for them. They were entirely unhelpful at the moment. 

Y/n looked to the wall on her right, finding comfort in the stone. Anything but a human being. Especially one standing there, safe, sound, and secure in his strength. 

“You’re only here to judge I see.” She muttered. 

Minho had no plans of leaving though, not before fulfilling his self-appointed mission. It didn’t matter that she turned the other way. But he could make it easier for her to adjust to his presence, and so he crouched down, careful not to touch the bars buzzing with electricity. 

She looked so helpless, sitting in the damp ground of the cell, breathing in the mold, waiting out the days with only rotten food in her system. Not only that, she certainly felt weak as well. If any of the guards felt like beating her, she couldn’t fight back, even in the dark. Minho could tell by her broken nose, the bloodied hands, and the collarbones peeking over her zip-up hoodie that she was close to dying. Maybe she didn’t know it. 

“She’s being held in a lab, you know?” He stated matter-of-factly, and instantly, she stiffened. “Everything she fled from is being done to her as we speak. All those tests, mostly blood tests. You understand, don’t you?” 

Y/n stirred, looking at him with tired dark eyes. 

“I was wrong. You’re not here to judge.” She said, more to herself than him. “You’re here to gloat.” 

“Does it look like I’m gloating?” 

She dug the heels of her mud-caked palms into her eyes, shaking her head. 

“That’s it. I don’t know what anything other than humiliation looks like. That’s what you look like to me. I don’t know you.” 

“I thought we agreed that I wouldn’t make a spectacle out of you. I’m your mentor, aren’t I?” 

“That doesn’t matter anymore. No one will let me train after this, and if Luna gets taken away, there will be no reason for me to do so.” The whimper died in her throat. “It’s pointless.”  Minho groaned. “What’s pointless is moping around.”  “Whatever.” You don’t understand anything. You’re not the one in a cell. She brought her knees to her chest, wrapping shiver her arms around them as if to keep his words from affecting her. Again, she whispered, “Whatever.” 

For a minute or two, they let the sound of water leak down the stone walls, dripping from the ceiling at even intervals, fill the space between them. Silence would be either too kind or too cruel, and neither was wanted. But Minho did not have all day. He had duties to fulfill, a training regiment to stick by (though he loathed to do so), and his friends were bound to take note of his prolonged absence. Hyunjin worst of all would be able to put two and two together, and Minho, mischievous and cunning son of Hermes though he was, didn’t trust himself to withhold the truth from the beloved son of Aphrodite. It was, in every sense of the word, impossible to do so. He could be persuasive, persistent, and pitiless in his every pursuit. Especially when he believed it to be something he truly desired. It did not help that Yeonjun and Beomgyu were in the simulation chamber with him at the moment, likely discussing his nonattendance. 

He had to do what he’d set out to do by coming here and do it quickly. 

“Will you get closer already? I have something to tell you.” He beckoned in as low a voice as possible. She peered distrustfully at him from above her folded knees. He then added, “It’s good news, I promise.” 

Minho figured her silence was as much an approval as he would get considering the way the conversation had flown so far. 

“I heard, from a friend of mine who is an eavesdropper by trade, that they are considering releasing you tomorrow morning.” 

That single sentence sparked hope in her heart. Those dark beads of hers lit up so much so that in the obscurity of the cell they glittered as if with tears. 

“Do they believe me now?” Her arms loosened around her legs and Y/n pushed herself to crawl toward him. “About Luna and I being innocent?” 

Minho chuckled. “Gods, no. They just need your blood, and being held in captivity like this is bound to kill you.” 

Her emaciated face fell, the faint pipe dream in her eyes going out like a light. It was pitiful to watch, but she needed to know. Not that she didn’t already. 

“Oh…” Y/n let out, her arms once again wound like vines around herself. “It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m out of here.” 

Minho nodded. “Yeah, you will still be under surveillance.” 

“Like… guards?” Y/n asked warily. 

“Animals. Cameras.” He looked at her pointedly. “Students.” 

The last one is loaded, an ill omen of sorts. The very creatures that to this day had ignored her at best and mocked her at worst, were to now become the very eyes that scrutinized her every move, the very mouths that hurled accusation after accusation. But what if it didn’t end there? What if they took it upon themselves to serve justice and beat her senseless? Would anyone care to heal her, if only so they could hurt her again? 

Y/n gazed at Minho, wondering whether he would care enough to keep her alive just so she could live out the rest of her days with a tube stuck to her arm, feeding the altars. Randomly, she wondered what his friends thought of all this. Did they find it amusing, hearing about her being locked up while her sister was treated like a guinea pig, reading in the paper about how old bloods were vile creatures after all? Or did they not give a shit in the slightest? 

Minho rose to his feet and produced something from the left inner pocket of his leather jacket. 

“Brought you something.” He said, tossing her the Rubik's cube for her to catch. It almost slid off her grasp palms, but once it rested securely on her palm she began to study the colors swirling in each little square; aquamarine, vivid orange, onyx black, vermillion red, viridian green, and brilliant gold. Minho pointed at the cube. “Green, green, gold, red, orange, blue, black, green, green.” 

Y/n had feared he was expecting her to solve it, so this was a relief. She tapped each color as he’d instructed and when nothing happened, looked up at him questioningly. 

“Say “in bloom”.” And so, she did. 

Where the Rubik’s cube had just sat now spread out a blanket the color of which reminded her of the forest in full bloom. In the sunlight, she might have been able to appreciate its coloring better. But it was the comforting warmth it provided that mattered. Wanting to revel in its softness, she rubbed the rim against her grimy cheeks. 

“Thank you.” She sighed, tucking her shivering frame inside the blanket. 

Patting down his jacket, Minho took one last look at her. Before he made for the exit, he made sure to let her know what must be done. 

“In the morning,” He said, “Or whenever they come for you, say ‘nature is a whore’ and let it burn, will you?” 

She didn’t need to ask what he meant by that. If he were found to have provided a means of comfort to a prisoner without being authorized to do so, his ambitions, his life even, would be put in jeopardy. All traces of his kind gesture had to go up in smoke. And so, they did the moment Y/n uttered the words upon being awoken by the sound of footsteps coming down the murky corridor. She had a good night’s sleep. It had kept her warm throughout the day as well. Minho had done enough. Far more than he was allowed. 

Four guards equipped with swords handled everything (securing her hands behind her back with handcuffs of tempered steel and celestial bronze) without a word spoken between them and led her up a spiraling staircase. Once the gates of steel yawned open, the muted sun of the dusk stung her eyes. She could barely see where she was going, and if not for the guards leading her toward a vehicle, she would have hurtled down the stairs. 

To her, it didn’t matter where they took her as long as it was back to Luna. But the more time passed, the closer she came to realizing that the road was an unfamiliar one. The buildings were loftier. Engines whirred to life and car honks blared. Roaring laughter echoed in the emptier parts of town. Silence died down as they drove her deeper into the heart of New Rome, where the most opulent of divinity’s offspring spent their days in unfathomable comfort. Slowly, Y/n began to recognize the paths they were driving on. After all, she’d run all the way here from their pathetic dwelling in the wee hours of the morning. They stopped at a red light and once the green flickered to life, the driver took a turn to the left. Just a little further ahead they would have had to drive around the fountain at the center of which stood the overawing statue of Jupiter. Not that it was something she wished to see anytime soon. 

The uncaring attitude she’d been able to maintain began to dissipate. They were not driving her home, but neither were they taking her to see Luna. Just where were they taking her then? Was there some secret lab around here she didn’t know about? Where they could suction the blood out of her veins while sedated? If so, who would be there to make sure Luna’s innocence was proven? Who would go out of their way to search for the truth when blaming an old blood was so convenient? 

“Where are we going?” She asked the guard on her left. He remained silent, so she asked again. “Can you tell me where you’re taking me? Please?” 

Her question went unanswered once again, but in the mirror, she caught the driver’s eyes staring at her. Something had to be wrong with the reflection, manipulation of the light, or her eyes deceiving her, because his gaze flicked fretfully between her and the guards before turning to the road ahead. Y/n shifted in her seat, trying to keep the handcuffs from biting into her flesh to no avail. The metal had broken skin and it left her feeling all the weaker. Her barely suppressed whimpers were the only sounds in the vehicle. 

The frail silence didn’t last long, however. In no time, the driver had pulled over and they exited the car. She had but a few seconds to take in the sight of the building or the garden at the front before they were practically dragging her inside the building. The five entered the elevator, her in between the four of them, and the one at the front pressed a few buttons. Instantly, it shot up and stopped at the 23rd floor with a ding. After stepping out, the guard who had pressed the buttons rang the doorbell as you couldn’t simply enter the penthouse without knowing the passcode or if you weren’t one of its inhabitants. None of that mattered right now. Why was she here? Shouldn’t she have been rotting in a dungeon? She hoped the anxiety didn’t show in her frown or in the way she shifted her weight from leg to leg as they waited for the resident to open the door. 

The metallic lock clicked and a peculiar sound went off as the door swung open. On the threshold stood a tall young man clad in his training gear. He was probably heading out for the obstacle course or the Training Center. His face looked familiar, and for good reason. Y/n had seen him before. She’d heard him snicker at her incompetence along with his companions. Again. Why was she here? Clearly, he lived here. So, why was she here? 

He scratched the back of his head where the dark hair had been cropped shorter than the top. The guard to her left stepped forward. Y/n couldn’t help but pity the man as he looked painfully average, in every sense of the word, next to the younger demigod. 

“We received orders to escort the prisoner Y/n L/n to this address.” He reported in a clipped tone. “Specifically, to Mr. Lee Minho.” 

“Minho isn’t available at the moment.” Minho’s friend informed them, meeting her uncomfortable gaze just before she turned to stare at the nape of the guard who had just spoken to him. “You’re dirtier than I expected.” 

No surprise there. Actually, as much as it hurt to be told that it was also kind of pleasant. No other student except for Minho and Seungmin spoke to her, and the absence of social interaction was bound to take its toll on any human being. Still, his comment wasn’t one she had an answer to. Nor did she wish to find one. 

Figuring she wasn’t going to say anything back, the young man turned to the guards. 

“I’m one of Minho’s flatmates. He told us you’d be delivering her this afternoon so don’t worry.” Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw him open the door wider and motion for her to cross the threshold. “You can entrust her to us.” 

The guard looked back at her skeptically then, after mulling it over for no longer than three seconds, replied, “We were told to escort her directly to Mr. Minho. This is not regular procedure.”  The guy throws his head back. 

“So annoying.” He groaned. “Just get inside.” 

The guard’s posture went ramrod straight. “We cannot- 

“So rigid, too.” Minho’s friend quipped, taking hold of Y/n’s arm and pulling her inside. “I know you’re not popular with the ladies.” 

Then he shut the door in their face, the electronic lock making that sound once again. He walked past her but she didn’t follow, something he eventually noticed and expressed his confusion about.  “Well, don’t just stand there.” He remarked. “Follow me already.” 

Y/n took off her shoes and jogged up to his side. “Where are we going?” 

“To the bathroom. You stink.” 

She glared at him. He was starting to get on her nerves. It wasn’t like she wanted to smell bad. But it had been like what, a week since her imprisonment? They hadn’t exactly provided a warm shower back in her cell. Not even a cold one. She’d had to piss in a dingy corner and couldn’t even shit because there was nothing to shit out. Her nails were caked with blood and scratches (face, knees, and hands) from when she’d clawed her way out of the bush had become infected, oozing with yellow and greenish puss. There were so many thorns still stuck inside that it ached to rub her hands for warmth or clench them into fists. Three of her nails, two on her right hand and one on her left, had vanished in her mad pursuit of sunlight, while another had only been torn halfway and she’d had to rip it out herself her first night in the cell. So, Minho’s friend would have to forgive her for the filth that she was. 

Some of her annoyance abated when she took in the size of their apartment. Spacious and luxuriously furnished, it allowed room for so many emotions to flood inside her; green with envy, a petrifying sense of awe, a nostalgia for what she’d never experienced, and more. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, its numerous tiny crystals resembling the tears of nymphs in Chiron’s bedtime stories before he started bringing picture books for her to flip through. The couches, arranged in a squarish sort of formation before the TV that occupied half of the wall, were much bigger than Luna’s bed and far more comfortable looking. Lying there must feel like floating, Y/n thought to herself as she followed Minho’s friend up the stairs. She wished she had more time to imbibe each lavish detail, from the drawn navy-blue drapes from which the sunset overflew onto the bone-white carpet, from the sculptures in the corner to the paintings on the wall, but she was even more desperate to feel clean. Perhaps then the other demigod would stop giving her those repulsed looks. 

“I’ll go get you some towels and clothes.” He let her know once they reached the bathroom on the second floor and opened the door to let her in. “None of them will fit but you were never supposed to be here anyway so you’ll forgive us if we’re unprepared.” 

Then he left her there to stare at all the commodities. Shampoo bottles on several stands and other containers of different sizes. A porcelain sink the shade of ivory that was so clean it sparkled and an elliptical mirror above it. Below the sink, there were lower cabinets for storing whatever (she couldn’t imagine what more they could possibly need). But the things that stood out the most to her were the shower cubicle with its glassy enclosures and the large bathtub parallel to it. Her bathroom only had a rusty mirror, a chipped sink, a toilet, and a shower head they never used because boiling water cost less. 

Minho’s friend returned, placed the folded clothes on the rim of the bathtub, and started explaining everything to her like she was five.  

“That’s for your hair.” He pointed to a white bottle. “That one’s for your hair too.” A cylindrical container this time. “That one for your body. That’s for scrubbing” Another shampoo bottle, this time crimson red, and a brush. Lastly, fixing her with a serious look, he pointed at a rose gold container about the size of the previous one. “That one is off-limits.” 

Y/n got closer and looked up at him. “Which one should I use first? For the hair?” 

His jaw all but dropped. 

“You’re joking.” He tried to say as evenly as possible. When she shook her head, he pointed to the cylindrical container almost robotically.  “This one, for the ends of your hair after you’ve shampooed it.” 

After that, he left and closed the door behind him. Worried that one of his friends might enter the bathroom while she was showering, Y/n locked it and began to undress. There was not an inch of her body that didn’t ache. Scrubbing was difficult but she managed to clean her festering wounds somewhat. There was nothing she could do about her nails. 

When she was finished, the bathroom smelled of pine needles, honey, and lavender. It was the first time she could wholeheartedly say she enjoyed taking a shower. A warm, long shower. 

Then, Minho’s friend, who came upstairs just as she exited the bathroom, escorted her to one of their spare rooms, gave her a bottle of water, and told her to wait there until her mentor got back. No complaints there, even if it was so that he and his friends didn’t have to look at her. She didn’t want to see any of them either. Pompous pricks. 

Sitting still wouldn’t bode well with her nerves so she spent the next two hours pacing around the room. At one point she crouched down to inspect a curious-looking object. Its translucent exterior made it appear as though nothing stood between her and the wall. But a closer look revealed the sheer glitter within the glass, scattering and converging depending on the angle the sunset impaled it. Anyone else would have moved on. But it was so pretty. Did galaxies feel like this? 

Two hours later, the door opened. Voices poured in from the kitchen on the first floor. 

“Hey.” Minho greeted. 

He looked not much different than the day before. Same leather jacket. Same dark pants. The same black boots with mud splatters all over. The difference wasn’t in how he looked but in the look in his eyes as he watched her rise from her spot on the floor. His eyes flicked to the object that had put her in a trance then back at her. She must look a tad easier on the eye now that the filth had gone down the drain. Literally.  

“Did you know?” She asked him. “That they were sending me to you?” 

Minho stepped closer, unzipping one of his pockets in the process, and sat at the foot of the bed. Y/n didn’t know whether it was right to sit next to him. 

“I didn’t think you’d like the thought of living here even if it’s just until the final verdict. So, I kept it from you.” 

True. Y/n wouldn’t have been ecstatic to live with him and his friends, no matter how long. She hadn’t forgotten how they’d mocked her amongst themselves. The friend who had let her in was a jerk. Beomgyu had smoked weed right after Ruth’s farewell ceremony. Hwang Hyunjin gave her the creeps. None of them liked her and the feeling was duly reciprocated. 

Despite all this, Y/n would have preferred to know. At the very least, she would have been prepared for his friend’s unsolicited criticism. 

“Did Professor Hajjar put you up to this?” She tried to speak clearly, but it came out as inaudible muttering. 

Somehow, Minho understood her. 

“The way you say that… yes, he pulled strings to make this happen. Would you rather be cold and starving in that damp cell underground that reeks of dead rats?” 

Somehow, Y/n had managed to incense the one person in this house who wasn’t disgusted by her. They settled in a fog-like silence⸺ him sitting, her standing⸺ with no idea of what else to say. A voice called from downstairs and Minho rose, the bed squeaking in response.  

“Dinner’s ready. Supposedly. Can’t be sure with Beomgyu on kitchen duty.” He cracked his neck and, noticing her unwillingness to follow, asked. “What is it?” 

This time, her voice came out much clearer. “I want to be alone.” 

Minho studied her for a few prolonged moments then walked towards the door. 

“Alright, I’ll bring you some food.” 

That night she dreamed of fog and stars. Shadows followed her. Other shadows beckoned her. She heard them call her name, whisper vows of secrecy, screeching. At one point, it didn’t matter where she ran. The hunch of being followed persisted. Yet the entity glued to her side never showed itself. It was only when she ended up at the edge of a gaping pit⸺ no stars, no galaxies, things neither dead nor alive in sight⸺ when she felt the pull of something draconian, from time immemorial, when the ground shook beneath her feet and she almost plummeted into the yawning abyss, that Y/n felt it yank her back with unparalleled conviction. It wanted her alive. 

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

She told Minho she didn’t want to have breakfast not because she wasn’t hungry but because she didn’t want to be around his friends and so he wouldn’t have to play waiter for her. Despite his insistence and her desperate hunger, she refused. Everything felt too much. Too much silence. Too much noise. Too many and too few people around. Too much of everything yet not enough. She was going to throw up if she put anything in her mouth. 

A royal purple hoodie and a pair of wide-bottom jeans sat at the foot of her bed. They looked brand new, like the outfits the mannequins at the store wore. She’d always wanted to try them on but one look at the rich materials and she knew it was a pipe dream. But now she could try them on. Clothes had never felt so good on her skin. Minho asked if the clothes fit and she answered honestly. Nothing ever really fit her. 

Downstairs, his friends were lounging around (it was quite early after all). Upon their appearance, Minho’s nameless friend stopped scrolling through his phone, Beomgyu began tying his shoelaces, and Hwang Hyunjin put on his denim jacket. The looks they gave her were various degrees of scrutiny. Yeonjun muttered something about how she didn’t look much better than the day before, making her flush in embarrassment. His friend, the more chipper of the four, Beomgyu, looked at her the way one would at a creature at the aviary; wide-eyed, humorously, as if she had just performed a particularly clever trick. At least, he walked away. Hwang didn’t bother to do even that, glancing at her every five seconds as they walked out of the penthouse with Minho in between. 

The walk to the university was tense. There she was, the sister of a suspect, confined on all fronts with no means of escape. Maybe she should have taken Minho up on that offer and had breakfast. But where would it end up? On the pavement after she hurled her guts out? Surely, Minho’s nameless twerp of a pal wouldn’t take kindly to that. 

Things took a turn for the worse once they reached campus. Y/n became the sole recipient of the student body’s hatred as well as the personnel. If the hearing wasn’t in a few days, she would surely be used for target practice. Some of the students ignored her completely. But it wasn’t the kind of effortless disregard she’d been experiencing for years, but a conscious refusal to acknowledge her existence. If anything, that made her feel more visible than ever before. 

It being Tuesday meant she had no classes to attend that were taught by Orlova. Still, she wasn’t allowed to sit where she usually did. Given that Minho was two years older she couldn’t be supervised by him while simultaneously attending her classes, not that anyone gave a shit whether or not she did. However, to accommodate everyone’s needs, Principal Jiang decided that she had to be seated next to Hwang Hyunjin for reasons unbeknownst to her. Maybe it was his good looks. Maybe he simply was just that good of a fighter and could knock her out. Doubtful. Even the rats in her apartment could do that with a little effort. 

They didn’t exchange one word throughout each morning class. From the corner of her eye, she spied him spinning his blue pen with his fingers as if it were second nature. His eyes were glued to the board as Professor. Magnus Voelker explained the mechanics of the advanced cameras used in surveys conducted by NASA, and normally hers would be too. This was robotics after all. Thankfully, he never caught her fleeting glances. Even as he escorted her to the dining hall, his behavior was the embodiment of nonchalance. He must be quite confident that, should she try to escape, he would put an end to that fiasco. 

Once they reached the dining hall, Minho took over and Hwang Hyunjin left her side to join his friends at their usual spot. After that, it was Minho’s turn to stand guard whether that be on the line to pick up her tray or at her table. She didn’t make it to the latter. 

“What’s she doing here?” A voice frothing with venom cut through the hall. The only sound remaining was that of someone’s heavy breathing. “What the fuck is she doing here?” 

Minho cursed under his breath, and Y/n turned to meet the source. A girl with almond brown hair whom she’d seen in some of her classes, whose name she couldn’t recall, stormed her way only to be held back by a young man with a stocky build. She struggled against his hold. He whispered something in her ear, which only added fuel to the fire. 

“No, what?” She snarled, pushing him off after he muttered something only the girl could hear. “What, we’re just supposed to be cool about it? Let her stay here and stink the whole place up?! What about Juliana, huh? Ruth?” Her hazel eyes flashed as they landed on Y/n, and she stormed over. “Why are you just standing there? Get out!” 

Before she could get her hands on Y/n, whose hands were shaking to the point where the bowl of tomato soup had spilled halfway and the utensils clattered against the tray, Minho stepped in between them. 

“She can’t. I’m supposed to guard her and right now I want lunch.” He glanced back at Y/n. “She stays.”  

The girl didn’t take kindly to that. Her face betrayed her innermost feelings; betrayal, incredulity, and, lastly, loathing. 

“Fucking traitor.” She spat, slightly lowering her voice. “Ruth was your sister too.” 

“Yeah, she was.” 

The girl tried to push him but he caught her hands. 

“So why are you protecting her?” 

“Protecting?” Minho let go of her wrists. “That’s not what I was assigned to do.” 

She dug two fingers into his chest and bit out. “Lapdog. That’s just what you are.” 

Y/n couldn’t handle the way everyone was staring, watching the fight unfold as if it were a freak show. It wasn’t fair for Minho to be insulted in front of everyone just for trying to fulfill his duty. 

Trembling, she stepped up from behind him, and said, “I don’t want to be here any more than you do.” 

Minho placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t interfere.” 

The girl redirected her wrathful gaze to her and knocked the tray out of her hands. The utensils clattered to the ground. The porcelain bowl shattered and the soup spilled, splatters of it landing on Y/n’s new jeans and shoes. Never before had she been so mortified to be seen. She’d wanted it for so long and now she was receiving it in the foulest way possible. Through all this, she missed the way one of the students left his seat. 

“You and your sister,” The girl growled, hand wrapping around her neck and pushing her down to the floor. Minho intervened but was having a hard time overpowering her. Y/n found it difficult to swallow her fear, her energy spent on trying to claw the girl’s hands off of her. “Are the worst thing to have happened to this world. Filthy fucking creatures.” 

“Cleo, that’s enough!” Minho yelled, still trying to get her to let Y/n go. 

One of the male students sprinted over, grabbed Cleo by the arm, and dragged her away. The latter screeched and thrashed but the muscular male warned her not to try anything else. Minho helped her to her feet, and she finally felt like she could breathe, wheezing more like it. 

“Let me go! Am I wrong?!” Cleo pointed at Y/n once the demigod he’d let her go. “Everyone thinks so! They’re just too chicken to fucking say it. She and her disgusting worm of a sister should be cut up and thrown into Tartarus. Their kind brings nothing but misfortune. You know I’m right! It’s the truth!” 

Y/n suddenly became aware of someone else’s touch on her shoulder. Someone who wasn’t Minho. 

“You’re the reason we can eat.” Cleo’s lips tilted up at the corners. “And soon, the worms are going to eat your sister.” 

“Hey, now that’s wrong.” Said the person who stood next to her. His bleached hair and soothing, deep voice should have given him away. But maybe he hadn’t spoken until now. “She’s just a little- 

“You stay out of this.” Cleo cut him off sharply. “This is none of your business.” 

“But you- 

“Shut the fuck up!” 

“That’s enough!” 

A voice boomed that shook Y/n to her core. It was as if one moment she’d been sailing on a rocky boat in the middle of nowhere, the storm raging all around her, and then a grounding silence. She looked to the right, where a male demigod⸺ firmly built, with curly dark brown hair, and eyes that might be sweet but right then expressed stern disapproval⸺ crackled with power as he took in the scene before him. Even Cleo stopped her kicking and screaming at the sight of him, as did everyone else. 

“The hearing is four days away.” He stated, fixing all of them with a look that warned them not to act stupid. “If any of you have any complaints about her being here, take it up with Professor. Laqueus.”  He shepherded the crowd back to normalcy, quelling the heated blood between them and Y/n (if only momentarily), and tasked the other demigod who had previously stopped Cleo from choking her to death with accompanying the girl back to her seat. Knowing better than to disobey, she marched back to her seat with him in tow.

Minho leaned in and whispered, “Let’s go, Y/n. I doubt you want to eat here after this.” 

Before they began to walk out, he looked back to see Lee Felix walking back to his friends. 

“You should hurry up.” Felix seemed surprised, his eyes widening, to hear Minho talk to him. “Lunch is almost over.” 

Y/n didn’t get the chance to thank him or even see his response to what Minho had just said. He was eager to get out of there, possibly even more than her. 

One thing about Lee Minho? He didn’t bother changing her mind when she headed straight to bed right after they went back to his apartment. There wouldn’t have been any use in it. She was but a corpse standing; her neck black and blue, no food in her system, and wounds that wouldn’t heal. Whatever he had to say could wait. 

Hours later, sometime past10 PM, Y/n was awoken by a series of knocks at the door and Minho stepped into the darkness of the bedroom. She didn’t remember pulling the curtains shut, having passed out on the bed almost instantly after her body had hit the mattress. Maybe he’d thought they would help her sleep better. Now, he drew them to reveal the view of New Rome stark against the night. Y/n could swear this was when the city came alive. 

Minho turned on the bedside lamp to her right and set down the tray of food. It took some time for her to finish the bowl of tomato soup as it hurt to swallow. When she was done, he put it aside.  “We should talk about what happened.” He said with a serious look in his eyes. “The whole truth.” 

Just as it hurt to swallow, it hurt to speak. When she did, it sounded airy and raspy, like a small rock chafing against a boulder. It came out broken the first few times until she resolved to speak slowly.  “How can I trust you won’t twist anything just ruin Luna’s life?” 

“You can’t. I just think that since you’re going to be living here for a few weeks we should at least come up with a plan. For that,” He paused as if considering his next words carefully, “You have to tell me the truth.” 

Y/n looked down at her hands. The soft flesh where her nails had been had begun to itch. 

“Those don’t sound like your words.” She muttered. 

Minho sighed audibly and got up. “Professor Hajjar is doing his best to come up with a solid defense strategy. I’m just helping him.” 

He sounded sensible enough but giving away information just like that wasn’t something he or any of his friends would do if they were in her shoes. In fact, Y/n was willing to bet they would withhold it just because they could. They would do it for fun. It pissed her off that he would demand it of her. 

Y/n tried to tear her eyes away from her fingers but they ached and itched miserably. She wished there was a tool to scratch them and relieve her of the discomfort. 

“I’ll tell you,” she said, looking up at him. “Under one condition.” 

“You’re in no position to place conditions.” 

“Then I won’t tell you.” 

They held each other’s gaze, which was no small task for Y/n. She tried her hardest not to let trepidation show in her face, even if the golden glow of the bedside lamp was the only source of light in the room. Downstairs, a cry of frustration was heard, sounding a lot like the Beomgyu guy, but not even that succeeded in destroying her efforts. On the other hand, Minho didn’t seem all that affected. He took a few steps backward to lean against the side of the closet. 

“Shoot.” He said. 

“I want to see Luna.” She shot him a pleading look when he looked away. “Professor Hajjar got you in, didn’t he? When you came to visit? Then he assigned you to- 

“It isn’t up to him.” He revealed. “It was Professor. Laqueus who assigned me to you. Professor. Hajjar used to be one of her students and her protégé, which is why he managed to put in a good word for me. It was easy for her to believe I wouldn’t allow you to do as you please.” 

Recalling recent events, it was easy to see why. “Because Ruth was your sister.” 

Minho nodded. 

“Convincing her to let you see your sister won’t be easy.” He remarked. “She doesn’t stand to gain anything from your reunion.” 

Y/n swung the covers off of her and sat at the edge. 

“But she does.” She appealed. “If she allowed me to see my sister, she could learn the truth. I would tell her.” 

Minho stared off into space, a thoughtful expression taking over, as she anxiously waited for his response; fingers clenched around the baby blue sheets.  

“I’ll tell Prof- 

Minho had barely gotten out those few words before she threw her arms around him. 

“Thank you!” Y/n squealed into his neck. 

Anyone else would have pushed her off and called the cops on her. She was a stranger known by all, including Lee Minho. He didn’t owe her anything, but if he was willing to negotiate on her behalf, she would be in his debt. Yet he let her wrap her skinny arms around his fit frame and pat her head. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, though.” He told her in an attempt to set realistic expectations. “She could refuse to bargain just to spite you.” 

She could. But maybe she wouldn’t. There were only two people who might be able to provide a smidge of concrete proof. A testimony of sorts. Luna must be refusing to talk or they wouldn’t be hounding Y/n about it, and the latter would keep her mouth shut unless they agreed to her terms. Putting them on the spot was a risky gamble. If only she weren’t in a tight spot herself. 

In cold sweat. That’s how Y/n awoke. The fog from her dream seeped into reality, making it hard for her to even tell the time when she looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was 2:19 in the morning. She felt her cheeks with the back of her hand, sweeping the damp strands of hair away from her face. Cold, clammy flesh. Everything, from the shirt that stuck to her skin to her parched throat, would have been worth it if she could remember what the dream had been about. Only a nightmare would have her panting so. 

Too afraid to go back to sleep, Y/n sat up, back against the dark blue headboard, and listened to the life of New Rome. It had dulled a little, settling into a hum with only irregular intermissions of car engines revving in the distance. The city lights grounded her but it wasn’t what she wished for. She wanted calm. Silence like never before. She wanted to hear Luna’s voice. She needed a towel and a glass of water. 

The shadows in the room swam before her, performing for her and only her. In them, she saw leaves, rain, a child’s smile, hands clasped around another pair, buildings rising from the floor until back to it they returned, crumbling. She waited for an encore but nothing danced across the walls. Not a peep. Just as she was about to give sleep another chance, a bout of unintelligible whispers flooded into her ear. Y/n squinted in the dark. The shadows seemed to rain horizontally, droplets splashing on the wall with each sound. Could that be a hallucination? 

“…dated her.” 

Curious. Why would the shadows try to gossip with her about people’s dating lives? Why did the voice sound so familiar? There came a sigh, and after that, the sound became clearer. It was as if she were a participant in the conversation. It left her mouth feeling drier than before. 

“What does that have to do with what happened?” 

That voice she could never forget. Silvery with peril swimming in each note, the presentiment of being shadowed in the woods. Hwang Hyunjin. The haze of sleep had dissipated and now Y/n was left frozen in her bed, clutching the sheets tighter. The sudden awareness that he existed in the same house, at night, chilled her to the bone. 

“Did you, or did you not receive her text message the night she was killed?” 

She recognized the other voice as belonging to Minho. A frustrated Minho. 

“I did,” Hyunjin answered. “I ignored it.” 

A tense pause, and then, “Why?” 

Hyunjin sighed once again. 

“Because there was nothing between us and I didn’t think anything serious was going on.” 

“Her message read ‘I’m being followed please help’.” Minho whispered in disbelief. “How the fuck is that not serious?” 

“She used to do that the first few weeks after we stopped seeing each other.” 

“After you broke things off out of nowhere.” 

Hyunjin scoffed and when he next spoke, it was as if the temperature in Y/n’s bedroom had dropped at the very least 20 Celsius degrees. 

“I’m not going to be lectured by you, Minho.” 

The pitter-patter of the shadows played the rhythm of their breathing. Minho’s breath caught in his throat and he gulped down whatever he had meant to add. Hyunjin’s breathing was deceptively calm as if the conversation had meant next to nothing to him. Y/n wondered whether he looked the same or if there were, by any chance, a hint of a frown or a sneer. Some trace of malice to cement her opinion of him. 

But what if he wasn’t even there? What if this was but a figment of her imagination, tricks that her mind was playing on her to make up for Luna’s absence, trying to make her feel in control of something as primordial as the dark? It was a fact that nothing was under her control, try as she might. Maybe her mind was desperate for the illusion of it. Any other demigod would not have questioned the veracity of their visions and jumped straight into theorizing or action. Why couldn’t she do the same? Why did she feel stranded?

Y/n sat at the edge of the bed, stopping just to listen to the sound of footsteps disappearing down the corridor. One of them had already left, but if she managed to catch sight of the other then that meant her vision had been true and not a hallucination. She forced her legs to walk and all but held her breath as she opened the door, fearing it would squeak. Leaving the door slightly ajar seemed like the safest option if she wished to be silent. Descending the stairs to the floor below had her heart pumping outrageous amounts of blood. She could hear it rushing throughout her veins. Her ears buzzed with it. 

“You look scared.” 

She almost jumped out of her skin in the living room. He sounded so close, almost as if he was breathing down on her neck, but when she looked to the left, she saw him leaning against one of the glass walls. He was still in his training attire, his hair still matted from practice. Had he truly been practicing late into the night? How had Y/n not spotted him when she could literally see in the dark?  He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to respond. 

“I was- I was thirsty.” She stuttered out. 

What was she supposed to say? That she woke up out of breath and that the shadows hijacked their conversation so she could eavesdrop? Whatever they had spoken about was clearly supposed to remain between them and them alone. Hwang Hyunjin might actually kill her if she told him the truth. 

He walked up to her slowly. They were almost face to face when she noticed his hair was no longer in a half-up-half-down hairstyle. Damp strands clung to his beautiful face. His dark eyes rove over her face, gleaning information from each micro expression of hers. 

“Is that so?” He said, and Y/n couldn’t tell if he was genuinely asking or mocking her. 

Hwang Hyunjin studied her for a few seconds longer before walking up the stairs. Shaken, Y/n went to the kitchen and drained two bottles of water, taking a third up to her room. At least she wasn’t becoming a victim of her own mind. 

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

Minho had promised to speak with Professor Hajjar before classes started and, though he didn’t divulge much in the way of details, he had kept his promise. It was a great start to the day. Luna and her would soon be reunited. 

In all of her classes, she sat by Hwang Hyunjin. He was just as silent as the day before, spinning his pen, jaw propped on his palm as he absorbed the lesson from start to finish. It was a miracle Y/n jotted down a few sentences considering how distractingly nice he smelled. She hoped he didn’t notice her passing glances. Truly, it was embarrassing how secretive she was with it whereas he stared at her unflinchingly whenever he pleased for however long he saw fit. Not a care in the world if it made her uncomfortable. Why couldn’t she do the same? Why was she so embarrassed to look at him as they walked alongside each other from class to class, when their classmates would approach him during breaks to fool around, or when he handed her back to Minho like a fish that he’d been asked to take care of while the latter was away? 

Other than that, things went as smoothly as they could, given the circumstances. Cleo didn’t get a chance to choke her as they didn’t share any classes and Y/n didn’t have lunch with the rest of her peers. She didn’t need to. Minho had taken the time to prepare their lunches (two boxes with ham sandwiches and something he called pesto sauce, sliced apples, peeled oranges, two pop tarts each, and a nasty concoction that she’d been so curious of that Minho had offered her a sip). They finished their meal in an empty classroom. No one around. Voices drifting from outside the door. 

After classes were done for the day, the two of them headed to the Training Centre. Y/n had been secretly hoping he would let her skip today as well, ashamed of her lack of everything. Everything that made a demigod a demigod, save for supernatural abilities, she lacked. Agility, marksmanship, strength, speed, stamina, endurance, resilience. It was just too late.  

“If you don’t master the conventional pin forget about doing anything else,” Minho repeated for the fourth time since they’d started training with knives. 

“I know.” Y/n huffed. “I just don’t understand how I’m supposed to just know.” 

Minho collected the knives that had clattered to the floor after her failed attempts and placed one of them in her palm. 

“How could you when you’re not even present? You’re not even trying.” 

Before she had the time to sulk about how he didn’t realize how difficult it was for her to get the fundamentals of knife-throwing down, a demigod she didn’t know approached them and whispered something in Minho’s ear. Y/n pretended she was busy studying the handle of the knife, but anyone could tell she was snooping. It was considered a bad habit but it had become second nature over the years. When the other student had gone on his way, Minho quelled her curiosity. 

“I have to leave.” He told her. “Principal Jiang has called for me.” 

Then who was going to train her? Was she to stay there and practice on her own until she managed to make it stick at least once? 

“Should I leave without you?” Y/n asked as she watched him pack his gym bag. 

Minho shook his head and took a swig off his water bottle. 

“No, it’s forbidden.” He shot a glance across the room, where his friends were taking turns plunging knives into the target board. It seemed fun when they did it. “Hyunjin will take over while I’m gone.” He slung the strap over his shoulder and said, “See you at home.” 

He approached his friends and had a word with Hwang Hyunjin who she could swear rolled his eyes at her. Asshole. It wasn’t like she wanted to be taught by him either. With Minho gone and Hwang coming toward her, the room seemed to have shrunk to the size of cardboard box. She wanted out. 

He glanced down to where she ran her thumb across the handle of the blade out of uneasiness. Still, Hwang said nothing of it, choosing instead to look up into her eyes again. Y/n averted her gaze, breathing in. 

“Should I throw?” She suggested. 

A beat later, he plucked the blade from her hold almost as easily as a flower in a pot. 

“No need.” He said simply, shooting her a bored look before walking up to the designated line. “Watch.” 

Hwang Hyunjin must have been born with a blade in his grip. The fluidity of his movements and the speed with which he sent the blade flying while barely looking in the direction of the target board had her gawking. Minho had mentioned before that while he was great, Hyunjin was phenomenal. It’s just that with everything moving so fast, Y/n hadn’t given it much thought. Now that she’d seen it for herself, there was nothing she could do but open and close her mouth like a stupid fish. 

As he walked back to her after retrieving the knife, Y/n pointed at the board. 

“That was- how did you do that?” She stuttered. “Is there some kind of trick to it?” 

“Get in position.” 

The admiration faded as annoyance took its place. He could have at least answered her question, however stupid it might have sounded to him. Had it sounded stupid to him? 

“The first thing you need to consider when throwing is the distance.” He explained, and suddenly Y/n was all ears as he got behind her, parting her knees and adjusting the angle of her torso. “It determines the number of rotations. The closer to the target you are, the fewer rotations you need to land a critical hit.” 

Y/n nodded, all too alert. “Okay.” 

“Adjust your grip.” He instructed, breath fanning the apex of her cheekbone as he fixed the placement of her fingers along the handle. “Didn’t Minho teach you this already?” 

“He um- he did.” 

“Follow his instructions.” 

“I’m trying.” 

Hwang Hyunjin scoffed. “No, you aren’t.” 

Y/n caught her bottom lip between her teeth to prevent herself from crying for no apparent reason. Was she embarrassed or did she feel wronged in some way? 

“Minho said the same thing.” She said under her breath. 

Y/n felt his hair graze the shell of her ear as he leaned forward, his chest brushing against her shoulder as nimble fingers guided hers. 

“Hold it up here,” Hyunjin coached. “The farther you move from the target, the higher you need to relocate your grip. Even though it comes down to strength at one point, the grip is still crucial.” He distanced himself, taking his pleasant body heat with him. “Throw it.” 

Y/n looked back just in time for him to raise an eyebrow at her reluctance. That straightened her up real quick and she sent the knife flying. Something was wrong and Y/n couldn’t pinpoint what. Had she not exerted enough strength? Had she let go too soon? Either way, the blade clattered to the floor and she was forced to make the walk of shame to retrieve it without meeting Hwang Hyunjin’s eyes even once. He was probably rolling them again anyway. 

When she got back, blade in hand and eyes on every surface but him, he spun her by the shoulders and parted her knees with his own. Hands at her waist, he adjusted the angle of her torso. 

“Breathe in. Tighten your core.” She could feel his chest rise against her back with each instruction, “Throw. And this time,” The mocking lilt of his tone made her shrivel with shame, “Try to make it stick.” 

With that, Hwang’s body heat parted from hers and Y/n felt like she could breathe at last. It was a few seconds until she could do as he’d commanded, and even when she felt confident that it would at least reach the target table she was met with the sound of the knife clattering pitifully on the floor, a few feet from the table. Involuntarily, she looked to Hwang and once she did, she couldn’t look away. His boredom was palpable. 

“You’re so weak.” He remarked. “Too pitiful to even call you prey.” 

That Hwang Hyunjin was bored out of his wits, she could understand. That he was also callous and didn’t have her good interests at heart it was hard not to notice. But he had a job to do when Minho was unavailable; he had to guard and teach her. He wasn’t happy with it? Big fucking deal! Neither was she. None of this was going to get Luna out of the lab or keep her alive, and with the way he always spoke it was becoming increasingly more difficult not to claw at him like a harpy. 

“Is that why you’ve been staring me down like a creep?” 

Both Y/n’s glare and question were met with an impassive look as if he couldn’t give less of a shit even if he tried. 

“Is that why you ran away that night?” Hwang countered. 

Her limbs froze. She scanned the room for places she could use as shelter for when the sentries came for her. The only thing she could think to do was bolt for the exit. But she’d be caught and Luna would be all alone and it would all be his fault. 

“I didn’t run away.” Fuck, she was gasping for breath. 

Hwang scoffed, slapping the flat side of the blade against his palm. “Of course you didn’t.” 

The bastard was definitely taunting her and she couldn’t force him to stop. She couldn’t force him to do anything. On the other hand, he could. There was no place she’d rather be than anywhere he wasn’t, even if it was just for a few hours. Getting to Minho’s penthouse would get Minho in trouble, that’s for sure, but if she didn’t get away from Hwang Hyunjin, she’d pass out from poor respiration. 

Y/n had just started to make a break for it when she heard it. 

“Leaving already?” He challenged. She turned back only to see he was spinning the blade with his fingers. “You must not want to see your sister after all.” 

Y/n glared because she did. There was nothing more she wanted at that moment than to see her little sister. How dare he state otherwise? Was he taunting her again? Was it something else? A threat maybe? Would he really tell the higher-ups about what had happened that night and cast more suspicion upon Luna? 

While Y/n was busy chewing on her bottom lip, contemplating whether to try to run away (key word; try) or just swallow the fear Hwang inspired in her, he had pushed himself off the wall and sauntered toward her. Slowly, without her realizing, he’d led her back to their spot. 

The demigod placed the blade on her sweaty palm and, in an even voice, commanded, “Be a good little student and get in position.” 

Trembling fingers wrapped around the handle, Y/n did as she was told. 

When Minho came home later that evening, he knocked twice before Y/n eventually grumbled in response and he entered. 

“We don’t bite so come downstairs and eat with us.” He said, palm planted on the doorway as he peered at her bundled-up shape in the darkness. She buried her face under the blanket. “Y/n.” 

“Who else will be there?” She spoke, her voice muffled. 

Minho sighed and she could hear him approach her bed. Her fingers tightened around the edges but he pulled them off her with ease. 

“As I said,” He turned on the lampshade and walked away like he hadn’t interrupted the first decent nap she’d had in a long while. He’d changed out of his training gear, now in an eggplant purple hoodie and grey sweats, and the pleasant scent of mint lingered. “We don’t bite so come down or you’ll go to sleep without dinner.” 

Y/n planted her elbows on the mattress. 

“Haven’t experienced that before.” She groused. 

Minho laughed softly. 

“Smartass.” He muttered before vanishing down the corridor. Didn’t even bother to shut the door. 

Y/n looked around the room, examining the expanse of the wall before her for dancing shadows or morbid visions. Only after she felt certain neither would plague her for the time being did she pluck up the courage to go wash her mouth and face and join the rest of them for dinner. Surely enough there they were, eating slowly as they talked about… whatever it was they talked about. All of that died down when she pulled out a chair next to Minho. Only momentarily though. They were back at it in no time, pretending that she didn’t exist. 

The first thing she noticed was that there wasn’t a fork or a spoon but two chopsticks. She’d never used them in her life. Hadn’t had a reason to. 

“Hold them like this.” Minho showed her the proper way to hold them and the clamping motion. It took a few tries for her to get the gist of it (she sucked). “And don’t eat too fast.” 

She couldn’t eat too fast. It made her feel sick and she’d end up vomiting on their precious tapestry. Gods knew how much it had to cost. 

Y/n was trying to finish her bowl of rice when Choi Beomgyu spoke to her for the first time ever. 

“How did you kill them?” 

She couldn’t move a muscle. All eyes were on the two of them. “What?” 

“Gyu stop this bullshit,” Minho warned. 

Beomgyu waved him off, smiling like the insensitive idiot he was. 

“Ruth and Juliana.” He chirped as though he was asking her if she preferred dogs over cats. “How did you kill them?” 

Y/n shut her eyes. “I didn’t.” 

“So, it’s true then. Your sister did?” 

“No, she- 

“Such a little girl with such an appetite for bloodshed.” He sing-sang. “Truly, a monster of all time, isn- 

The bowl and the chopsticks clattered to the floor, the sound of metal hitting the floor and porcelain shattering rining throughout the living room. 

“Shut up!” Y/n shrieked, eyes still shut tight. “Shut up! Shut up!” 

Minho barely managed to get her to sit back down (she didn’t even remember standing up), when Beomgyu spoke once more. 

“Don’t get all riled up now.” His did not sound as chipper as before. Perhaps the young man was afraid of what Minho might do if she broke any more bowls because of him. “I’m just asking since we’re living under the same roof you know. It’s not like- 

“We didn’t kill anyone.” Y/n scanned the table, studying their expressions. So muddled were her wits that each one, be that concern, fear, or intrigue resembled that of a pool of repulsion. “Not that you care.” 

With so much more than she wanted to shout but couldn’t find the courage to, and with the awareness that each step of hers was weighed down by someone’s acute stare, she walked up to her bedroom and got under the blankets once again. They’d shed the warmth and she had to rub her feet for a while until she got comfortable. She’d just started dipping her toes in the pond of dreams, light scattering at the edges of her vision as she readied herself to submerge when a knock dragged her ashore. 

Before Minho had the chance to say a word, for she knew what he intended to ask of her, she beat him to the punch. 

“I want to see my sister.” Her eyes remained closed. “Or I’m not telling you anything.” 

He let out a sound akin to a groan of exasperation. 

“The more you keep the truth a secret, the more they torture her.” 

It was as if a tornado had ripped off the eyelids from her eyeballs. Frantic, Y/n threw off the blankets and got to her feet, Minho following suit in an attempt to placate her. 

“Torture?” 

“Calm down- 

“No!” She pushed at his chest, her breathing getting shallower by the second. All sense was gradually being replaced by the gnawing need to maim. “You said they’re just- they were just running tests! She didn’t- she hasn’t done anything! You- 

“Y/n!” 

“What are you doing to my sister?!” 

His round, brown eyes widened in disbelief at her outburst, even though she’d just had one merely half an hour ago. 

“You think losing your shit will help her?” He jabbed two fingers at his temple. “Think, Y/n. Think. The only thing you can do for her is tell me the truth.” 

She was already in tears, sobbing as she wiped at her nose with the back of her hand like the disgusting fucking freak she was considered to be. 

“Take me to her.” She begged, looking up at Minho in hopes that he could answer the desperation in her eyes with mercy. “She has to know I haven’t abandoned her.” 

“I would if I could,” was all Minho delivered. “But they’d have both our heads for trespassing. The only way I can help you is through Professor Hajjar. Think about it. You think you have the luxury to keep your mouth shut? Not talking will only make things worse for you during the hearing, which is three days away by the way. Get this in that head of yours, Y/n. Your sister might be doomed either way but you have a chance to do something to save her, yet you choose to remain silent. If she dies, the fault will be yours. No one else’s.” 

That did it for her. Still shedding tears, she looked him in the eye with more hatred than she’d ever had the gall to show in front of another human being. Chiron had warned her not to, that they would treat her infinitely worse than they already had, that they would strip her of what little human rights she still possessed. But she couldn’t remember any of that. Not when Minho, who didn’t deserve her wrath, who wouldn’t hurt her even if she didn’t know that, stood before her, wearing the face of all the people who had hurt her. 

“You’re just like the rest of them. You want me to talk so then you have an excuse to be rid of me and Luna for good. You want us to rot in a lab until we die just so you can eat.” Y/n spat the following sentence through gritted teeth. “I wish all of you would just die.” 

Minho frowned. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Was he upset? Disappointed? So angry he could beat her to a pulp then and there? What was he feeling at that moment? Had she managed to wound him even a tiny bit? 

He simply reached inside his pocket, where he’d stored a small packet of napkins, and handed it to her before walking out without a word. Sleep did not come easy this time. The pond was dry. 

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

If it weren’t for the stiffness of his shoulders whenever he spoke to her, Y/n would have thought last night’s conversation had been a hallucination. Minho made her breakfast, packed their lunches, bought her chocolate milk at the convenience store on their way to the university, and sat with her in an empty classroom once again. It was his duty to guard and train her. He didn’t have to take care of her, teaching her how to massage her muscles, buying her vanilla soaps and rose-scented shampoo, or even asking if she’d like to join them for movie night on Thursday. Truly, Y/n felt ashamed of the way she’d acted, even if those had been her genuine feelings at the time. Even though those same feelings persisted, she knew that he deserved an apology. But she didn’t know how to do it properly. 

In the library, as she sat one table away from Minho, Y/n brainstormed while occasionally glancing his way. Each time, his eyes were glued to the page. Each time, she felt a little more guilt-ridden.  At one point, someone took a seat opposite from her, and when Y/n raised her eyes, she was relieved to see him sitting there. It had only been a week or so since they’d last sat this close. He, of course, had made no effort to speak with her. Why would he? Kim Seungmin was not her friend. But she’d felt his absence nonetheless. 

“It’s been a while,” Y/n said, smiling. Though she was used to being ignored, this time it felt different. His eyebrows were tense and his mouth was set in too straight a line for it to be attributed to concentration. Cautiously, she tried again. “Are you angry at me?” 

Seungmin looked up then back down, turning the page. “No, but I will be if you keep talking.” 

Y/n felt cold with embarrassment all over and she did not speak again for fear that her throat would clog up halfway through the sentence. She had a feeling that would annoy him more. They sat in silence, each busy with their own tasks, until Seungmin did something he’d never done before. 

“Where did you get that?” 

Startled that he’d struck up a conversation, Y/n looked up from the page she’d been scribbling on. He nodded at the book that lay on top of her backpack. 

“I didn’t steal it I promise. Professor Hajjar gave it to me.” Yet she felt like a criminal still. She felt guilty, and it must have shown on her face because Seungmin deadpanned. Hoping to convince him, she added, “Do you want me to lend it to you?” 

“I have a copy back at home.” 

Y/n picked at her nailbed with the unmaimed fingers. “You must have read it front to back.” 

“Three times.” He specified, taking a pencil to jot down notes on the margins. “The third part, the one on the Underworld, is the best in my opinion. Elaborate without veering off track.” 

Smiling, Y/n flipped through the pages of the book until she found what he was referring to and dog-eared it. The shiver that ran through her was one of excitement. No one, other than Minho and Luna that is, bothered to talk to her. She had taken to having discussions with herself, asking questions that only she’d bother to try finding the answer to, whiling away the hours of the night when the stomach pangs kept her from much-needed rest. 

“You’re shivering again.” Seungmin pointed out, sounding just as disapproving as before. 

Y/n let out a sheepish laugh. “At least we’re not in the lab, right?” 

The young man made as if to speak only to look back down, fingertips toying with the top corner of the page. Y/n didn’t know what came over her. Maybe it was the way he pushed up his glasses, the slightly disheveled hair from when his friend had ruffled it during recess, or the knitted cream sweater over the white shirt that made him appear the complete opposite of the way he spoke. It was all completely irrational. At that moment, it just felt like the right thing to say. 

“You did the right thing.”  

Seungmin examined her face for answers the way he did with samples at the lab. 

“What?” He asked. 

“Ignoring me.” Y/n clarified, scrawling at the edges of her handwritten apology. “You did the right thing.” 

The confusion melted off his face, gradually replaced by understanding. He held her gaze for a few seconds longer before looking down once more. 

“It was the strategic thing to do.” 

Back at the apartment, things were rowdier than ever. Beomgyu had gotten the brilliant idea to just blast music as loud as he could without getting kicked out permanently, leaving Y/n with a brain-scrambling headache for the entirety of the evening. Eventually, Minho put an end to the madness, finally granting Y/n some time with her thoughts. 

Sitting in the shower, Y/n had never felt so clean yet so filthy. Her neck was littered with bruises it was hell to scrub at it. Her fingernails were so cracked and torn that it hurt to hold a pen. Despite the stretching and the massage, her muscles ached terribly. At night, she was plagued by visions, and every time she thought that sleep might alleviate the symptoms, she was proven wrong. 

She thought about the dining hall incident, Cleo’s rage, her fingers crushing her windpipe, and the repulsed acknowledgment of the other demigods. She thought back to when Luna had pleaded not to go to school but she’d forced her to, anyway. How Y/n regretted not having let her stay home and draw princesses on her little sketching pad. None of this would have happened. Luna wouldn’t be used as a lab rat, and she wouldn’t be faced with the choice of speaking or remaining silent. Both equally rotten. 

For the first time since… she didn’t remember when, Y/n bit into her arm to stop herself from screaming. The tears and snot ran down her face, making her feel all the filthier. The muffled screeches were the only way she could speak. She didn’t deserve to be spoken to. She should have stayed in that shabby hut in Camp Half-blood. She should have stayed in the forest with Luna. They never should have returned. She had convinced Luna it was for the best and look where that got them. She was so stupid she wanted to die then and there. She deserved to be alone. 

Minho called out to her from the other side of the door, asking if everything was fine. Y/n bit into her arm just a little harder, enough to draw blood, and then let go, affirming that she was alright. His footsteps receded down the corridor. 

In her room, as she arranged her backpack for the next day so the rest wouldn’t have to wait for her, Y/n spotted the book Professor Hajjar had gifted her. She recalled her conversation with Seungmin and thought about how, regardless of her choice, she would never speak to him again. Even if Luna was released, Y/n would never see the sun again. She’d be locked up in the lab, getting drained on a schedule as the years wore on, and the rest of the demigods would go on to explore the world, creating families of their own, and share urns with their beloveds. She would get cremated, her ashes cast into Tartarus. Then, it would be Luna’s turn. 

Y/n placed the book on the nightstand. 

Downstairs, Minho had just finished preparing dinner. She offered to help him set the table but he shook his head saying that Yeonjun was supposed to since he’d shirked his kitchen duty and that the least he could do was help him with the utensils. The taller demigod rolled his eyes, made an offhand comment about her damp hair, and got to work. With nothing else to do but wait, Y/n sat at the table and zoned out. 

Every time Minho snapped her out of it, she slid back into that empty space until eventually, Yeonjun had enough and snapped at her to just eat. Startled, Y/n picked up the spoon and tried not to let it spill. She was trying so hard not to cry again. She didn’t want them to mock her as a crybaby. Keeping her head down as she brought the spoon to her lips again and again, she didn’t know what kind of expression they were wearing as she swallowed spoonful after spoonful. If she did, she would have caught the glare Minho pinned Yeonjun with (the latter looking away as if nothing had happened), Beomgyu’s stunned countenance, and Hyunjin’s incisive gaze. 

Y/n placed the spoon in the empty bowl and before either Minho or Yeonjun could say anything, she beat them to it. 

“She started having nightmares a few days before Juliana was killed.”

<<<Chapter 2 Chapter 4>>>

[kithtaehyung]

I don’t wanna invalidate opinions but I would like to throw some things out there that might help reframe window for those who didn’t like it (and correct me if I’m off base here Ryen also I never properly talked about window yet so I guess this counts as part of it 🫣😂) but like….

Okay so feel like most media, especially the ones I grew up with is supersaturated with unrealistic, rose colored portrayals of intimacy, both platonic and romantic. Conflict is shown as only an external force that can be overcome with “true love.” But…love is not always enough. It’s a powerful motivator but it isn’t an airtight bottle you can shove all the difficult conversations and thoughts in until the pressure peaks . It’s only recently that creators are starting to push back against the cliche stereotypes that we’ve had for decades. And we’ve never had more diversity and freedom to be creative than we do now but we still have a long fucking way to go. There’s still a lack of depth that leads to expectations that can never be met. It leads to so much unnecessary disappointment with real life. And it’s lowkey toxic af. How is anyone supposed to know how to actually relate to another person, how to be a good friend or even how to know if someone else is being a good friend if we never get to see the little things. The small moments shared in silence, the tears, the misunderstandings, the effort it takes to stay feeling connected to someone else, to stayed connected to yourself.

Real intimacy is not a straight, even valley you need to pass in order to get to a beautiful meadow of “happily ever after.” Real intimacy requires patience, persistence, and communication. It’s a never ending fluctuation of real work. No one can give 100% all the time, but that’s why it’s shared. When you can only give 20 percent, the other person needs to be willing to give the other 80 and you have to be open to do the same. And most importantly it requires grace; the ability to be patient and forgive others when they find themselves being less than. Getting to have a peak into Yoongi’s mindset in 3tan is a privilege you can’t get in real life bc we’re not mind readers. In fact, it highlights that fact. We can’t know what others are thinking unless we ask and truly listen. Period. It reminds us that there are in fact two individually complex humans involved that have their own needs and wants and worries and doubts. And like communication between two people is one thing, but communication with yourself??? That takes a lifetime of conscious effort. You have to choose to improve, to self reflect. And it’s going to be uncomfortable, no might’s or maybe’s. But how can anyone know what they need in a relationship or what they can even bring to a relationship if they don’t sort it out with themselves first?

Reader and Yoongi have realistic flaws that they are not only aware of but are willing to work on in order to make a relationship work. They have internal battles they have to work through if they’re ever going to be able to fight the external ones. Instead of judging each other for how they’re feeling, they push each other to be vulnerable enough to share so they can listen and understand bc they want this. They want it all. Yoongi climbing through that window was him giving reader that 80 percent when she could only give 20. I also don’t think it’s fair to fault reader for that when we’ve seen proof they’re willing to do that for Yoongi too (I guess I haven’t seen what specific things people didn’t like about it so I’m making some assumptions). We saw it, staying to wash those dishes and refusing to leave unsaid thoughts floating just out of reach between them was her 80 when Yoongi was shutting down. She deserved an explanation to his change in behavior that felt complete and genuine and she was brave enough to stop hiding behind the coy words that were keeping them both safe, that they both were using as a shield. They were lucky, they got to hear exactly what they thought they could only hope for. But even if they hadn’t, at least they could walk away knowing they had done all they could. They could have mourned what could have been with less regrets.

And last thing before I step off my soapbox and end this Tedtalk (have we reached max capacity for metaphor yet??? 😂🤦🏽‍♀️), I understand that people use escapism as a coping mechanism (and like all things is def unhealthy in excess). I think it’s safe to say we’re all pretty much here for that. We’re on this platform and following and reading content from creators like Ryen who are willing and excited to share their work with us as whatever we need it to be bc we are looking for something to connect with. Ryen has stated multiple times she wants this to be a comfort for people and that it is one for her. It’s scary sharing a story like this so publicly. It’s intimate and revealing and she shared it knowing that she doesn’t have complete control on who has access to it. If you’re looking for a story that paves a smoother path then maybe 3tan is just not for you 🤷🏽‍♀️ and that’s more than okay. We’re so lucky to be in a digital age where a large portion of the population has access to an obscene amount of content. There’s going to be something out there that fits what you’re looking for if that’s what you want. But my completely unsolicited advice and hope for everyone is that they consume media that allows them to not only escape from the unpleasantries of life but also expands the way we might think about the complex dynamics of just…existing. Nobody has all the right answers but I bet if we all share the things that help and comfort us like Ryen does and meet it with “I’m so happy you felt you could share this with me and I feel like I know you better now” when it doesn’t fit into what we want or whatever expectations we create, then we’d all walk through this life feeling a little more understood and a little more understanding. And I’m not saying I don’t also enjoy and even love the easy, rosy happily ever afters. I do, but I’m beginning to understand that they give me something different than the complex and angst filled stories. I’m 100% not always up to diving into a story like 3tan that really gets me thinking and analyzing (this is like 1k words too late to say hi don’t perceive me and my many long winded 3tan reviews 🫣🙃😂 but like…shhh) and so when I’m not, I don’t 🤷🏽‍♀️. Luckily, for now, it’s there for whenever I want and that’s amazing. And when I do, I try really hard to put even a fraction of the work it takes the creator into my response/ reception BC WOW PEOPLE ARE SO TALENTED AND BRAVE AND DOING THEIR BEST.

If you made it this far, thanks for coming to my Tedtalk and welcome to my overthinking and exhausted brain. Did I write this on my flight home as a way to push back my post concert depression? Yes, yes I did.

(Ryen I love you and am endlessly grateful for your big beautiful brain and I hope you enjoy LA 🖤🖤🖤)

i…. i….. wow?? thank you?? what the hell do i even say to this i’m speechless🧍‍♀️

mikayla i guess i won’t say much (because you’ve pretty much said everything so eloquently and beautifully, and i barely slept on the whole flight here and am just now getting to lie down) but just know this made me feel a whole lot better. damn.

thank you for saying all of this. at its core, 3tan is about life. beauty in the mundane. extraordinary in the ordinary. a lot of my inspiration comes from hayao miyazaki, tbh, because i’ve been so enamored by the way he took time to add in the most simplest of things like fixing a shoe that wasn’t fully put on, or someone staring just a bit longer at the surrounding scenery. it’s those moments that i wanna capture here, too, because there’s something to love even in the milliseconds.

and as far as love and communication and trust and self-reflection, it’s been quite a journey writing this series bc even though i’m writing it, i truly feel like I’m learning and growing alongside these people, too. it’s been quite the pleasure, and i’m grateful as hell for anyone that’s here, was here, or will stumble across this series somehow. I wanna keep it a comfort series and one that, as you said, makes people think about their own journeys, too.

gahhh I really don’t have any other commentary bc you’ve said plenty and it’s incredible.. seriously, thank you. i’m unbelievably touched and will think about this tedtalk ask for a long, long time.

[kiwibirdlafayette]

I think Tom (and all his alts) strive for freedom…

OH ABSOLUTELY

I totally agree!! I think just like- the nature of Tom and his alts (who ofc meta wise were all written after him) is that they’re all dependent people of some kind, usually as the result of their circumstance of existence

Whether that be like in Tom's case because Dianite (or Mianite in Godswap, albiet different dynamic) is the one to grant him reanimated life, making him sort of indebted to him- or Cassell who isn't necessarily bound to his god moreso that he's bound to his creators (Flash and Ianite). Mot also sort of has that tether element to him because Dianite technically also saved his life from the creeper spore infection iirc but I think it makes the principle of freedom a little different to him esp. because it turned into like a business partners to unrequited crush to sorta lovers kinda thing depending on your post canon

All of this translates to me into their kind of devotion as champions, and again how that's like different from Ianitee flavored devotion (based on the guidance of Ianite and trusting in her judgement to lead them the right way so she can keep them safe), or Mianitee flavored devotion (Like knights to a king, similar to Ianitees follow orders for order, kind of follow his principles rather than specific instructions from him). Dianite being Dianite and the elements of chaos being how it is, Dianitee devotion is like being an extension of him, not via principles or guidance but by intent like being mercenaries in service of him while still being tethered in fear of punishment if its not done right. And maybe yknow they don't mind the implications that come with that title (Mot's case, for example) I think that's where that desire for freedom comes for- a want to have an existence that isn't tethered to their god

side note this could not apply as much to Dianite and Cass in Aitheaca because Dianite takes the Ianite role in terms of swapped god positions (and Cass runs off Dianite's guidance in the same way as Jordan would to Ianite) as Flash and Ianite are more similar to Tom and S1 Dia but bear with me xD

So kind of like extrapolating from that- their more specific desires for freedom are all sort of tied to Tom's need for spiritual freedom- I want to like refer to the whole thing of the Thauminomicon-y traits Marsh had mentioned before, and how Tom has 'fabrico', which stands for craft/repair. It connects in the sense of yeah he's a zombie he's stiched back together but. ok hear me out. Who would have stitched him back together? It was implied in an episode of Isles that c!Tom doesn't remember the Minecraft Project- (because they're memories he can't return to, just big empty void in his head), or when he was alive/ill from zombification, but he hadn't died yet. The person that arrives on Mianite with Tucker is that Tom, he is all that chaotic goofy Tom is, but at the same time he's partially someone else's creation, sewn together in intricate ways to be the bringer of chaos for the god he serves- but beyond that? His humanity. At his core, he's human, not someone who'll just take orders blindly and him striving for his freedom from that tether is refusing to deny the things that makes him alive. And I think the other alts like ya said follow suit, in Mot maintaining his humanity regardless of his ailment through choosing to care for Alyssa rather than being just a ruthless chaotic killing machine when Rux!Dia dies or in Aitheaca the way I want to write Cassell as someone who was born as a weapon for Ianite but loves collecting vintage human things and views his innermost self through music. The visual I kind of go to is the idea of Tom literally crafting and repairing the parts of himself that make him feel trapped by breaking them apart, burning it, adding new things when he takes the hands of friends and yeah!! And I think this sort of aspect could also tie into him becoming Mecha Dianite as well in finding freedom by choosing the person he is, and owning it

[ciaossu-imagines]

The angst potential of Gokudera's partner sacrificing themself to save someone else in the famiglia, tho. The Vongola comes first, after all, and his partner knows that

Okay, but I have definitely written things along this line before…it still remains one of my favourite possibilities though because there is so much potential for angst there and, my fuck, do I love breaking some character’s hearts for the drama and fantastic character stories and just…it makes me strangely happy, haha!

So, I could definitely see this being a thing that could happen. Mafia life, even while it’s downplayed some in the manga and it’s made to look charming, is dirty and dangerous and the very real possibility of dying early is something every Mafioso has to learn to deal with.

And Gokudera is okay with that. He’s accepted the dangers he puts himself in and he thought he had internally accepted the real and present danger to his loved ones.

But he really hasn’t because, somewhere in the back of his mind, he had always assumed that his family and his lover would be fine, that he could always somehow keep them safe in this seedy life they all live.

He trusts in his partner’s strength enough to not demand anymore that he be sent on missions with them. They can handle themselves and they do for a good long time. Life seems stable, happy even for Gokudera and his little found family he’s created with the Vongola.

But they go lead a mission when he’s desperately needed somewhere else, Tsuna’s orders, and he assumes it will be like every other time and they will come home victorious.

Except they don’t come home. The Vongola headquarters hear it through the radio-coms first and tell Tsuna, who calls Gokudera right away…or, if you really want to get angsty, they’re all on comms in different areas and Gokudera gets to hear his lover’s last minutes playing in his ear while he’s powerless to protect them or help them or save them in any way.

He’d definitely not react well. Whatever danger the family was facing…all the grief that threatens to choke him and makes his head swim and his chest feel like it’s second away from exploding…it manifests itself as anger because that’s always how Gokudera feels most comfortable with expressing himself. The danger doesn’t just get handled; it gets burned to ashes.

But that doesn’t really help. It doesn’t take away that grief and I feel like Gokudera would really have an issue with properly handling his grief, getting stuck in the denial and anger stages for years.

If it’s just some other no-name Vongola member his partner died protecting, I feel like Gokudera would direct a lot of his anger there and would never forgive them…hell, I think that Vongola member wouldn’t be a member too much longer.

But if it was another Guardian? Or even better, Tsuna??? That makes everything in Gokudera’s world and in his mind so much harder because he’s always been so devoted to them but at the same time, he blames them and there’s this bitterness that does grow in his heart towards them and he hates himself for it so there’s even more guilt and shame and it all just weighs him down.

I don’t feel like, even if Tsuna offered to pay for a grief counselor for Gokudera (which I doubt would happen because KHR likes to pretend like therapists don’t exist, even though honestly, the Vongola should be handing out individual therapists to everyone for the rest of their lives the way Oprah hands out goodies to her viewers), he wouldn’t take it because in a lot of ways, he will blame himself. In his mind, it wouldn’t have happened if he’d only have been there. Or if he’d been stronger, strong enough to prevent that danger from ever being a real threat. So, in a really sick way, he’ll want to hold onto that guilt and shame and grief because he’ll feel like it’s only right that he feels it, that it’s what he deserves for not being good enough.

I also don’t think he’d take another serious lover for years, maybe even decades, if that happened, going back to flings, and keeping people really far away from him. Unless the others tried really hard, he’d even start to grow the distance between him and the other family members because he just can’t mentally or emotionally handle everything and becomes obsessively scared, even though he won’t understand that that is what he feels, of losing another precious person to him. So, if he hardens his heart or creates distance or actively pushes people away, he’s safe from that.

[romanxdrake]

Task 002 - Morality. Neutral Good.

These characters value life and freedom above all else, and despise those who would deprive others of them. Neutral good characters sometimes find themselves forced to work beyond the law, yet for the law, and the greater good of the people. They are not vicious or vindictive, but are people driven to right injustice.

For each of the following items, indicate whether you think it's morally okay or not.

An army lieutenant neglects to file a report on a civilian killing done by his troops because he knows it was an accident. NOT OKAY

Tina promises her dying mother that she'll visit her grave once a month. After the mother has passed away, Tina finds it hard to squeeze in the time, and her visits drop to about once a year. SOMEWHAT OKAY

A man orders a custom-built sex doll designed to look just like his neighbor. NOT OKAY

Sarah's dog has four puppies. She can only find a home for two of them, so she kills the other two with a stone to the head. NOT OKAY

A doctor has been preforming consensual yet illegal procedures one someone in hopes of finding a cure for his ill sister. SOMEWHAT OKAY

A neglectful husband pushes his wife to an affair. When the affair ends, the wife's partner nearly kills her and her unborn daughter. The husband kills the affair partner. SOMEWHAT OKAY

September has run out of food and is facing death by starvation. She begins to cannibalize her family's loyal staff. They do not fight back. NOT OKAY

A mother gives birth to identical twins. One follows their ambitions and the other becomes a shut in. The family make it clear which child they prefer. NOT OKAY

Natalie is so focused on survival she fires a shot without thinking. She did not intend to kill her elderly neighbor, but she hides the body regardless. She denies knowing what happened to the now missing resident. SOMEWHAT OKAY

A woman is facing a lifetime of medical issues. She continues to put her family and those around her in emotional and medical debt. She lives a hollow life and continues leaching off of those who support her. OKAY

Please provide a response to each of the following prompts. Leaving a prompt blank will also be considered a response, and you will be assessed for refusal to answer.

In the event of a life or death situation, would you put yourself or others first? Depends on who the other person is. There are definitely people out there I would sacrifice myself for, but I would always try to find a way out of the situation for both of us. If I could ensure my own survival or the survival of people I loved by getting someone else killed.. It's a line I'd be willing to cross.

How far would you be willing to go to ensure your own survival throughout this ordeal? I want to make it out of this to see June again, but I don't want to turn into a monster along the way.

Is there anyone in the building you have developed strong attachments to? Birdie, obviously. And Charlie. I'd keep an eye out for both of them, do what I could to keep them safe.

Do you think it is possible to survive infection through alternative means such as removing the infected limb? Would you be willing to undergo this procedure to ensure your own survival? Not every disease has a 100% infection rate and maybe the reason none of us have gotten sick so far is simply because we're immune. If I did get bitten, would I be willing to cut off a limb? I guess, if it was an option. A hand would be okay, sure. But an entire arm? A leg? Could you even survive like that out here?

Will following the general consensus lead to improved odds of survival, or would you have a better chance following an assigned leader? I'm not really following anyone's directions here. If I agree with the current plan, great. If not, I'm not going to stick around to watch what happens next. My only goal is to get out of here alive to see my daughter again.

What is the appropriate response to the following situation?

Your daughter falls ill and needs a specific, uncommon kind of antibiotic that will be hard to find; without the full course, the pathogen will survive, regroup, and kill her anyway. You are scavenging a pharmacy, where you find another group, and manage to not shoot each other. You ask them about the antibiotic, and they have it, but they also need the antibiotic, for the wife of someone in their group. You cannot share the antibiotic because it would just kill both people, and they have the antibiotic in their pack. This is likely the only complete dose set you will find, as the other stores have been picked totally clean and there are no friendly groups in the area I'd kill them. I'd do whatever it took, no matter if I lost my own life in the process, to get the medicine to June. There's no other option where I could live with myself anyway.

[mintys-musings]

ik yandere stuff isn't everyones thing. esp the more brutal parts to it. but i find it interesting to explore the obsession... so ig maybe a similar way to how izumi acts sometimes? (because wasn't he supposed to be just a tsundere but the writers threw in some yandere tendencies into him?)

idk. i just think it's interesting to see how characters behave when they feel a certain spark for someone that leads them down to infatuation. especially if their feelings arent reciprocated or they are too aware of their actions. examples below.

just to be safe uhhh cw some stalking

like anzu being so obsessed with a producer that she switches her whole schedule to line up with theirs and sabotages projects sometimes so they gotta hang out and fix her fuck ups. and even when they're berating her because they're tired of her antics, she's crying tears of joy because wow to have theyre full attention like this is a blessing!!! i think she'd be the type to have a little shrine of shit she's picked up from the producer. empty pens, failed proposal papers, a paper cup thats stained slightly with coffee— all sentimental. acts like a doting wife, much to the annoyed producer's dismay.

or makoto feeling conflicted as he uses his access to the info bureau to get info on a voice actor he likes and trying to get cast in the same game— or constantly spending his time in places he knows they frequent for a chance meeting. he's been a victim of izumi's infatuation so it feels wrong, but he can't help it. he's too scared of actually approaching them so he builds this elaborate delusion by just sitting in the same general area as the person. he orders what they order. and he mentally pretends to have a conversation with them as they eat. he uses audio editors to splice together clips of them saying "I love you, Makoto ♡" among other things and listens to them on loop (Check Check One Two by KurageP vibes) the odd feelings he has on this whole ordeal haunt him. every time he creates a new sound file he feels sick. why is he like this? they dont even know makoto exists. he'd like to stop but their voice is so sweet...

mayoi.... well... he's always watching from the vents anyway. now he's just making sure things are okay for his beloved. he acts as both a phantom that sends chills down their spine as they don't know if they're being watched AND as a guardian angel who leaves trinkets, snacks, notes, etc. not too different from how he is already actually. he just is more scared. he already hates his own intrusive thoughts that struggle to stay in. he doesn't want his beloved to hear them especially. so he's content watching them from afar. though sometimes he gets cold feet that day because of the creeping guilt + the looming fear of getting caught and being labelled as a creep and avoided by his beloved is too much. if, however, his beloved's heart is taken by another, im sure he'd spiral into a depression considering he'd be too cowardly to make himself known. he'd just wish them the best as there's nothing else that he can do without bravery, but anyone who sees mayoi notices he's a bit listless.

hiyori being much more forward in his affections than everyone else, showering the apple of his eye in gifts and love galore. he's used to getting what he wants if he has a say. while even in this state i think all idols would be able to take rejection, hiyori would be hit the hardest and be in denial for a while. his gift giving wouldn't falter and his compliments still are never ending, but the more they affirm that "yeah no... id rather not." he'd grow distant. maybe angry? he couldn't remain as such towards them though. in the end, he'd settle for just providing them with whatever they could possibly need and keeping a friendly distance. he still loves them. and it hurts they don't feel the same. but it would hurt infinitely more to have them hate him.

[kiss-my-freckle]

The genius and the profiler

Michael Scofield and Alex Mahone, episodes 2x16 - 2x20

A series post for season 2 because I plan to answer what everyone wants to know - which one is more intelligent.

Episode 2x16: The enemy of my enemy.

Kellerman gets another call from Kim acting as the president. I love Sara's hair in this scene. She meets them at the train station and finds out Kellerman is working with them.

It's best not to mess with Sara, she's Michael's hot button.

"I wonder how long you can hold your breath. Maybe we should find out."

Agent Wheeler isn't following Mahone's orders anymore. He's taking them from HQ, and I don't blame him. Mahone doesn't wanna be bothered with Haywire, he wants to go after Scofield and Burrows. It's the smart-ass in Scofield, Mahone has been mixing him with Shales. Kim has to press him to go after Haywire. As I said before, the other 6 inmates had no idea who they were escaping with. Inside Fox River was different. Their escape together made them immediate targets. "He's included in the escape. Who knows what he knows." The team gets an entire train car to themselves for privacy. Sara knows she's safe with Lincoln and Michael on the train, but after what Kellerman did to her… he's a trigger and she's an addict. It doesn't help that he's treating his attempt to kill her like a small deal. Mahone turns to Bellick. He basically wants Bellick to do all the legwork in finding Haywire, and once he finds him, he's to hand him over so Mahone can kill him. Sara has flashbacks of Kellerman, how he conned her into believing he was an addict and tried to kill her. She sends Michael after some water for the sake of choking Kellerman. She knows that he'll stop her from doing something she'll regret. Woman is vicious, and I love it.

Michael challenges Kellerman.

"Just so we're all clear, if she tries that again…" "You'll do what?"

While Michael continues to eye Kellerman, he feels the need to call Caroline. He questions what she means. He has no idea that he's actually talking to Kim.

"Caroline. I need to know exactly what you meant when you said you're gonna make this right. I need specifics."

This should sound familiar. Kellerman makes the mistake of telling her where they are… because it's not her.

The Little Engine That Could.

"It won't always be like this. In this room, in this place." "Until then, I can't. We can't."

Fans should expect this kind of interruption... Michael and Sara kissing. That's what romance on the run would look like. It's everything else that matters. They both admit to falling.

Bellick calls Mahone to inform him that he has a lead on Haywire. Mahone tells him that he's on his way and to keep him there - alone. It's insane to me that they trust him to arrest Haywire after Michael revealed his murders on national tv, but so it goes. The team forced four people off the train and run, so they've got the police chasing them instead. Haywire climbs. Like all jumpers in tv shows, he gets himself an audience. Kellerman has flashbacks of Kim, and realizes he's been talking to him all along.

Mahone is pissed when he shows up to kill Haywire. "I got you Haywire. What else do you want?" Bellick doesn't get it, but Michael knows. "He wants his privacy. He's not trying to catch me. He's trying to kill me." He likely wouldn't care if he did know. It's possible Bellick would've allowed Mahone to kill Haywire. Even though he jumps, the FBI should question it because Mahone was up there with him.

Yeah, Sara is Michael's hot button lol

Episode 2x17: A father and a son

They're at a cigar club. Because Sara's on the run along with them, they're gonna have to get someone else to go in. Michael and Sara head over to Pope's house because he's a member. Michael pulls a gun when Pope threatens to call the police, tells him that he'd lay down his life if it meant the world learned the truth about Lincoln's innocence. He hands Pope the gun to prove it. Truthfully, he already proved it when he got himself put in prison. As he told Sara, the man he was died the moment he stepped inside Fox River. Experiences change people.

Michael is having a hard time convincing Pope, so he makes a deal. Pope takes the drive to see the evidence, and Michael turns himself in. Kim finds out that Sara was at the cigar club, so he takes a jet to Chicago. Michael refuses to tell Lincoln how he got Pope to get the evidence for them. Pope listens to the recording on the flash drive before he leaves the club. When he walks out, he's immediately confronted by Kim. He tries to get the evidence from Pope, even threatens him for it. Michael runs into Kim with the car and stops so Pope can get in. Sara locks the door on Kellerman, leaving him to fend for himself. Lincoln finds out about Michael's deal when they get back to Pope's house.

"I said I'd hold up my end of the deal." "You already did."

This isn't forgiveness, it's understanding.

"Fax Franklin's mug shot to every hospital in southeastern Minnesota."

Mahone hunts Franklyn. Lang tells him about his daughter's chronic condition. He catches up to them at one of the hospitals, but they get on the bus and take off. His daughter gets so sick that he feels the need to turn himself in, but tries to cut a deal with Mahone that his wife goes free. Mahone knows that he doesn't have to deal, that Franklyn will come in whether she goes free or not because his daughter needs medical care. Mahone doesn't even need to ask, Franklyn offers up Scofield in exchange for his wife's freedom. He has no idea that Mahone is killing the escapees, so he just signed his death warrant.

Franklyn is written on the other side of Tweener.

Episode 2x18: Under the Radar

Bellick shows up to see Mahone while he's briefing his team. Michael has no history/experience with off the book deals so he wouldn't know, but Mahone's work with Bellick is just like their work with Don Self. Of the group, Mahone was the one that should've known they were getting screwed in season 4. He has Bellick working completely off the books, and his team doesn't know about it. That's why he's pissed that Bellick showed up at this office.

"The deal was that you stay under the radar. Is this under the radar, Brad? No, this is an office full of federal agents who now have all seen your face."

"And if you ever come in my office again, you'll not only never see the cash you'll never see another sunrise."

Mahone sends Bellick to Mexico to go after Sucre because a report came in on him. Lincoln reaches out to Jane Phillips, the woman who worked with their father. An intermediary for their evidence and an honest person who won't bury it. This is their Cooper Green episode.

"You said you overheard him telling Sucre about a website…"

The wrong medication is suggestive. The man said he was gonna hand their evidence over to a federal judge (Court - Is - Aid). Just Google how to plant suggestions, and watch him question "Cooper Green" again. Michael knocks him out seconds before Lincoln shows up.

Mahone finds out the truth about Lincoln. He's having to swallow the bodies he dropped for an innocent man. Abruzzie, Tweener, Haywire, now Franklyn. This is in addition to his attempts on Lincoln and Michael. He continues because he has no choice, but his mind is blown.

The moment Franklyn turned himself in, he signed his death warrant whether he cooperated or not.

Payphone, statue, fountain, building. Mahone realizes they were watching fake Cooper Green, and assessed their location based on their meeting spots. He has the room number because of Sara.

The real Cooper Green wants to continue helping them because he believes in Lincoln's innocence after hearing the recording. Michael tells him to go because of the risk to his life. Lincoln is meeting with Derek Sweeney for their Panama needs. Sara will be meeting Michael at the park. Presidential pardon is plan A, running to Panama is plan B.

Mahone gets his hands on Sara in their hotel room. She knows he's the one that tried to kill Michael when they met in Gila.

Franklyn followed through with his suicide attempt. He contacted the FBI and left a message with Agent Wheeler. He's gonna cut a deal, so Mahone is losing on both sides of the fence.

"I need to see the president. She'll want to hear what I have to say." "The only person you get to talk to is me."

Kim played this game before, but unlike Kellerman, Michael will get his meeting. This is the same guy that lost two toes, ao he's not gonna crack.

The best way to con someone is by making them feel in control. Mahone is written opposite Kellerman, a real addict. He plays on her addiction by playing the addict in front of her, allows her to connect with him, to share. He makes her believe he's so strung out that he can't keep it together, that he'd actually set his weapon down. He then lets her ecape so Lang can follow her to Michael.

"Pardon. On stage. Now."

Kim and the General meet regarding their file on Sona. Whatever they have on Caroline, it's powerful. Because she stepped down, they no longer have control over the presidency.

Episode 2x20: Vessels

They do a lot of weird visual shit with Mahone in this episode. His board looks like Scofield's at the open of the series. "Where the hell did you go, Michael?" They start with Mahone telling Lang about his hard drive. It has original sketches, so they get more from the hard drive than his tattoos.

Mahone realized that Scofield's escape plan has steps, and they're marked with the Greek alphabet. Alpha, first letter. First step of his plan. Epsilon, fifth letter. Fifth step of his plan. Omega is the last letter and the last step of his plan. Christ Rose is his Omega, so they're bouncing ideas back and forth about Scofield's tattoo, Christ Rose. "Who's got Scofield's file? Christ in a rose. It's Scofield's mother's name. Christina Rose Scofield." Insert crazy visual shit. Mahone has them doing background on Michael's mother. Where she's buried. If she's buried. If she has any family in Panama because he found a lot of stuff about Panama on the hard drive.

Kim calls Mahone to tell him Franklyn is still alive and someone released him from custody. Mahone said that's not possible because they would need permission from his office. Agent Wheeler is from his office and missing from their discussion, so Mahone confronts Wheeler. They've been building to this since Scofield went after him.

"You're a killer, Alex. Soil samples taken from your yard in connection with the disappearance of Oscar Shales."

This is everything Scolfield warned him about when he went to visit his ex-wife.

"I don't know about you, but if I buried someone in my own back yard, I'd think about it all the time. I'd think maybe I should move that body. Then I'd remember that DNA leaches into soil, so even when the body was gone, the proof of what I'd done would still be there."

He gave him a chance to back off, but he didn't, so he took it national with the news reporter.

"Forensics is prepared to submit a report detailing the irregularities in the shooting of David 'Tweener' Apolskis. There's your blatant disregard for protocol in the death of John Abruzzi."

Combined with this, and you have Scofield's entire news report.

"One man, Special Agent Alexander Mahone, is responsible for multiple deaths. He murdered not only John Abruzzi and David Apolskis, but also the last fugitive he was assigned to chase: a man named Oscar Shales. A man who escaped from prison two years ago, who remains one of this country's most wanted despite the fact he will never be found."

C-Note strikes it big with the IA agent. He got himself a deal in exchange for his testimony. Instead of handing Scofield over to Mahone, he hands Mahone over to IA. Wheeler wants to bring him in, but Mahone tells him there's only one way to clean this. He's gonna go for the clean break because he knows he's looking at at least three counts of murder.

By the end of the episode, Lang is able to find Chrstina Rose. Scofield had a boat custom built for their travels, and named it after their mother. Mahone sends him messages while pretending to be Sucre. Somehow they've got Mahone and T-Bag working together to get Scofield into Sona. The General only needs one, and that one has to be Scofield. He takes the bait because he's desperate to get T-Bag back into prison.

Michael is in a difficult place, and Lincoln lacks understanding. His brother is suffering on an emotional and spiritual level. He can't be a bystander when he knows he can do something. And because he knows he can do something, there's a lot of guilt to feel when he doesn't.

Sara lied to Michael about boarding the ship because she knew that if she didn't, he would've stepped off to save her. She didn't want that for him. He carries his attitude to Panama because he can't handle being without her. It was clear to me early on that Michael is built different. He feels everything and never stops feeling it.

"You know what amazes me, Linc? Nothing ever registers with you. Ever. Just rolls right off your back, doesn't it? We ruined Sara's life, and it's like you don't even care."

Lincoln continuously throws shade on what Michael feels. He tells him not to make this about boy loses girl when boy just lost girl. Michael loses his shit.

"Who should it be about, Linc? Westmoreland? Tweener? LJ? Do you remember the name of the guard that was murdered because of the riot I started? Do you even remember his name? I bet you remember Veronica's name, though, don't you? What about T-Bag? Linc, he's out there now because of us! You and me! Every life he takes, that's blood on our hands. And for what?"

I'm 100% certain Michael remembers the guard's name. In fact, one of my favorite scenes is when he sits at the General's desk and lists the Company's victims by name. Michael is talking about his soul, and he's realizing it's only his cross to bear. Lincoln continues to throw shade. He has to see what he believes is Sara's head in a box to feel something, and that's the problem. Michael has a lot weighing on his soul, and he's trying to take some of it off. That's why he has no choice, he has to go after T-Bag.

Mahone's meetings with Tweener are every bit Michael. I felt this was the best place to put it as he goes after T-Bag because of Mahone.

"Are you Catholic? Are you Catholic? Not much good in it. A Iot of guilt. But the one good thing is confession. Whatever you got eating at you, you just give it up. Feels good, I have to say. Guess it's Ietting it out. Letting another human being hear…"

"Bagwell was free Iess than 24 hours before he killed his first victim. If you don't tell me where he is now, he's gonna kill again. And that blood is gonna be on your conscience and nobody else's."

Michael is alone in it.

T-Bag is obviously working on the Company's behalf because he wouldn't be in Panama otherwise. That's why the brothers question what he's donig there. He has the 5 million, so he could've went anywhere, but he chose their location. Mahone is split because he's a wanted man. He probably wouldn't be if not for Franklyn's failed suicide attempt.

You have to follow Michael's website to understand why I blame C-Note for his Sona incarceration. They pull this full circle. Michael was upset because he didn't plan for C-Note to overhear him giving the website to Sucre. It was only meant for Sucre.

"Sucre… down the road, if you're in trouble, Europeangoldfinch.net. It's what we can all use to communicate. Post a note on the message board." "What's it called?" "Europeangoldfinch.net." "That's a bird, right?"

Franklyn's initial intent was to hand Michael over to to Mahone in exchange for his freedom. He used Europeangoldfinch.net. to do it, so Franklyn basically handed Mahone the website.

"You said you overheard him telling Sucre about a website…"

Even though Franklyn switched over to making a deal with IA for Mahone, Mahone already had the website information because of Franklyn, and Franklyn failed to warn them about it.

"See you soon."

So you now have Mahone posting as Sucre. Michael ends up in Sona because that was Franklyn's initial intent with Mahone in making a deal for his freedom. Mahone poses as Sucre because the website was initially meant for Sucre. C-Note falling into the background of the show was the only good thing that came out of it. As far as I'm concerned, the actions he takes to get Michael out of Ogygia Prison are every bit what he owes Michael for getting him locked up in Sona. His actions during their Scylla storyline only show the kind of character that he is. That's why they only bring him in after the hardest part is done just as they did with their Fox River escape.

"So that's the plan, huh? They're gonna meet you down in Mexico?" "Yeah, it's worse to not see them. And I can't do that no more." "Not much of a life for them." "But it'll be a life."

Everything Franklyn suffered while on the run… his wife being arrested, his child needing medical care… it's every bit what Michael meant when they spoke after their escape. His wife wouldn't have been arrested and his daughter would've always had her medical care. Now he and his family are going into WITSEC while Mahone takes Michael to Sona.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Domestic Battles

Chapter 67: The Doting Husband

The world was in such chaos he didn't even mind the fact that he walked down Main Street with Hook close by. On a normal Tuesday, something like this would have been fodder for the gossip column of The Mirror, but on a day when another Curse was coming into view, no one really cared that the Dark One was in close proximity to Captain Hook and wasn't trying to kill him. Little did they know…

But unlike the rest of town, walking into that diner with Hook carrying the method of extermination in his hands would cause a stir among those inside who actually knew what they were dealing with. So when they got into the patio area, he willed Hook closer and ordered, "Go around the back and wait. You'll know when you're needed."

And because he had his heart still in his bag, now stashed away in his car for safekeeping, Hook listened. And obeyed.

He'd given Belle plenty of time to work with the fairies, enough time to feel like she'd done something important, time enough for the curse to advance. Now, it was time to attempt to get her away from them and absorb the fairy magic. They were still a while out from sunset and the curse hitting, but he didn't want to leave it to chance. He wanted her sealed into the shop as soon as possible for her own sake and her own safety. Still, the second he climbed the stairs and stepped into the diner, he could feel the tension in the room rise a few notches as the pests examined him, sneering and casting sideways looks at him.

"What do you want?!" Mother Superior snapped when she spotted him coming closer to Belle.

"Excuse me, but I'd like to borrow my wife," he answered, trying to maintain an air of politeness only for Belle's sake.

Gods, this was such a better plan than taking out Emma. There would be so much less guilt in wiping out the fairies, knowing that the world would be a better place without their harsh judgments of good and bad.

Fortunately for him, Belle went along easily, allowing him to lead her away from their leader without hesitation. He only hoped this next bit also happened without hesitation.

"I need you at the shop for a short while," he stated breathlessly.

"She's working! We need her!" Mother Superior argued.

For fuck's sake…

"Mother Superior's right, this is too important," Belle agreed. "We're really close here, Rumple, please? Please be patient?"

Patience was his fucking virtue, wasn't it? He didn't want her here anymore; he wanted to protect her and keep her safe so that Hook could come in and add their magic to the hat. The earlier he got that into place, the sooner they could leave Storybrooke after the curse hit. It would be far safer for Belle!

But of course he couldn't say any of this. Not to her. Even if he did intend to use a memory potion on her and on Henry later, he wanted as many of her real memories to be preserved as possible. And he also wanted to come off as a supportive encouraging husband in those memories, one who believed she could save Storybrooke and pushed her to do just that.

Fuck. He couldn't say no. Not to her.

But maybe he could get someone else to say no for him.

"Of course," he answered. "Well, until you can go, I'll just, uh…I'll just keep you company."

He said the words loud enough that a fairy or two might hear him, loud enough that Mother Superior might hear him. Given their relationship, he was hoping that the bug might just object to his being there, that she would try to run him out and Belle would go with him, or that she would urge Belle to leave in order to keep him out. Either way, he would win.

"Perhaps I'll be helpful."

Behind Belle, the head of the swarm slammed something down on the table loud enough to make Belle jump before she came charging in his direction. "This is Light Magic, Dark One!" she argued, eyes practically ablaze with fire at the suggestion that the Dark One could ever be "helpful" when it came to Light Magic.

"Well then, maybe I'll learn something," he smiled back, making no effort to keep the venom out of it.

The woman sneered at him, looked him up and down like he was the flea and not her, then glanced at Belle. "This is your theory, your idea! When you are done here, we still require your assistance," she snarled before turning on her heel and heading back to the table she'd been working at.

His heartrate shot up at the way she'd talked to his Belle, at the disrespect she'd shown and before he knew it, he was taking a step in her direction, more than willing to use his own magic to finally teach her who she was dealing with!

And then Belle placed a hand on his chest.

"Rumple!" she exclaimed with a look in her eyes that told him she knew exactly what that fairy had triggered in him and exactly what he was willing to do to her because of it. "Just a little while longer," she promised. "They won't need me nearly as long as they think they will. Just…sit here," she pushed him back into a seat beside her purse and coat. "The first chance I have to get away, I'll take it, promise."

He nodded, looking out at the chaos the creatures were wreaking on the diner. He had hoped that one of them would object to his presence and insist he leave. The way they moved away from him now, he wasn't entirely convinced that wasn't going to happen yet. He only hoped it was sooner rather than later.