#but they CAN BE dangerous easily. so easily.

[shysuccubusstuff]

Yandere! Mr. Crawling

Content: SFW hcs + Established relationship + Overprotection + Manipulation + Baby trapping + clingy! Mr. Crawling + Gaslighting + Somnophilia + Stalking + Death + Breeding kink + Slight size difference.

Summary: Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to keep his deep love secret from you

Note: I hope all of you are having a good day!! I'm trying to do my essays but they're so boring... Let me know if you have any suggestions/things you want to say to me, I love answering to people!!

SFW:

Human! Mr. Crawling who falls in love as soon as he sees your face.

Human! Mr. Crawling who decides to try and keep you safe and protect you from all possible dangers. This ranges from leaving small gifts for you, buying you something to eat when he hears a rumble close to him, or buying you a drink if he has seen you working so hard on keeping up with all the classes, to sometimes intimidating the other guys that kept trying to get closer to you.

Human! Mr. Crawling who tries his hardest to speak to you, even if it's just a few words to make sure you know he's listening to you. Nodding his head and keeping his eyes completely focused on your face.

Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to make himself look smaller, crunching a bit and walking with his back a bit arched, not something that can be easily noticeable for others, but just enough to reduce the height difference between the two of you.

Human! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to make you feel safe with him, allowing him to get into your bedroom, even to the point of making a sleepover. He just had to try his hardest not to act in any weird manner.

Human! Mr. Crawling who keeps following you like a lost puppy. You can almost see two ears and a tail appear when he acts like a small puppy, being easily excited when you compliment him, even if it's for the smallest things.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who begins to feel how his pure love becomes something more twisted the moment he realises more people keep getitng interested in you. He looks so kind when you look at him, but as soon as you turn your head, his gaze becomes much darker, his expression is always serious, his brows slightly furrowed as he tries to keep himself restrained.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of you great "friendship" and starts to try and get rid of your friends. He keeps on interrupting when you meet with your other friends, creating different reasons why he just couldn't wait to meet you, as he truly needed you.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of his sickly aspect to make you worry about him, calling you to ask you for small gestures, making sure that they are small enough to avoid you from refusing him.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to ask you out. He made sure to get rid of each and all your friends who could get in the way of your relationships, after all, he is everything you need, right?

NSFW:

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who had already seen you way before both of you met each other in class, his phone filled to the brim with pictures of you. The fact that most of them involve you in embarrasing positions while the rest are of your sleeping face. They definitely have no effect on him, hell no (just ignore the raging bulge he gets from seeing your lips slightly parted, totally normal reaction).

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who put a small chip on your phone while you were sleeping. How was he supposed to keep you safe if he didn't know where you were the whole day? Don't be so dramatic, he was just doing it for your sake :((

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who killed someone in front of you. He was stalking you around town when he saw that strange man grabbing you by your wrist and taking you to the closest dark alley. Before he could think, his hands were already gripping his throat, his face turning blue as his grasp got even stronger. When he finally was sure that man was no longer alive, he turned around, a happy smile on his lips as he waited for your compliments. He was now on his real height, allowing you to notice how he was over one head and a half taller than you, despite that, he made you pet his hair, forcing you to smile as the body of the strange man got colder.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling whose obsession only increases the moment the two of you decide to date. His arms are now always around your waist, his hands always touching you, no matter if you are alone or in front of other people. He just loves hugging you from behind, his dick rubbing against your ass, grinding against you as soon as he saw you do something he didn't like.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who forces his cock inside you, filling you load after load just to prove that you're truly his one and only. He doesn't stop until he sees his seed dripping from your hole, your eyes rolling to your skull with fat tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who keeps blabbering about impregnating you during sex, he doesn't even care about your gender, he WILL impregnate you. He will defy Mother Nature for you, filling you one after the other and not pulling out until the next morning.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates with your clothes the moment he misses you, he doesn't care if you have been away for barely a few hours, he just misses his sweet darling so much :(( Not his fault that your clothes are filled with your sweet scent...

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates to your sleeping face while the both of you sleep together. He loves feeling you close to him, all relaxed as your expressions sometimes change to one of pure bliss... He hugs you from behind, beginning to grind against your ass as an attempt to keep himself in check. This of course doesn't work, which forces him to use his own hand to masturbate, slowly getting on top of you so he can get an extremely detailed view of your sleeping face.

[drmaicol]

Spade and Speranza

The Valley is vast and magical, with dense forests home to spirits and fae. Silent castles and ruins sit on the mountains, while life in the few villages along the rivers is cozy and uneventful. Until, with winter came the Emissary of the Necromancer King, bringing war and destruction.

Players, describe yourself and tell your stories: How did you survive? Who have you lost? Why do you want to fight? The Valley is not lost, not until your swords are held with hope.

When facing danger or risking something dear, roll 1d6 If you fight prepared or if you choose to take a wound (Die heroically if it’s the 3rd) get +1 If you fight Nightmares, Monsters or formidable Foes get -1

0- Failure with consequence 1 The Emissary draws closer, feeding on your fears. Reroll with -2 2-3 Failure with opportunity 4-5 Success with consequence 6 The Valley fight with you. Reroll with +2 7+ Success with opportunity

GM: ask further questions, play to find out, put them in danger, call for rolls, and add details in your style. Consequences: Things get worse, New threat, Setback, Cost, or Future complication Let the Players propose Opportunities

Hi Everyone Dr Maicol (He/Him) here. I'm here to add little more context \o/ First, I'm Italian so sorry if my english does not english well :v

This year i challeged myself (and failed) to write one game a week (only mate do week 28 till burnout) with the space of a Threads/Bluesky post (more or less 300 characters spaces included). So 200 words were more of a challenge on "adding more". Anyway this experience really helped my with my game-design fatigue and I look forward to retry my challenge here on thunblr and maybe on Substack. This time with the 200 word limit instead. Feel free to, copy, remix and reflavour this game. You can easily change the fiction-tags on 1 and 6 to suit your setting. Than change the contitions to get +1/-1 to adapt the narrative tensione and what you want your players seek during play. Keep it simple obv Thank you all for reading and happy holidays

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

[slightly-knot-insane]

A Little Bit Rusty [part 2]

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

a/n: continuation of this short drabble, now with more plot, hehe. also, i imagined this monster as some kind of dinosaur hybrid, but i'll still keep it vague enough for readers to imagine whatever they like ^^ content: nsfw, some steamy moments with clothes on, fingering

You left his apartment before he woke up, figuring it will be less awkward than to have breakfast together and spend the morning in silence avoiding each other's gaze. The night was so good, though, you think as you enter the museum, your workplace.

It's hard to focus on paperwork you left unfinished yesterday in order to have fun with your co-worker, aka supervisor, aka mentor. It's very hard not to think about his long monstrous tongue or his teeth biting your inner thighs.

"Good morning..." You jolt up immediately recognizing your mentor's voice. You didn't notice when he entered the office. He is standing a few steps away from you, like you have a disease. "Are you... okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You are truly surprised with his question. Last night was fantastic.

He suddenly stands with his back straighter than before - if that's even possible. "R-right. Good to know." And then basically runs away.

Maybe he didn't have such a good time? He sure didn't act unsatisfied. You chuckle looking at him trip over his own legs.

It's a busy day, Saturday, and the museum is full of people. You both have tours to lead, but since you only started working, you are mostly free or assisting him.

You actually love listening to him, since he's very eloquent when talking about archaeological findings, especially about bones. He is especially charming with kids and can make them laugh easily. But as soon as he lays his eyes on you, he blushes or stutters. It's so entertaining seeing him flustered you can't help but on purposely make his job even harder.

You shorten your skirt, pull your blouse down to expose your bosom, and tighten the belt around your waist to accentuate your curves even more. When he sees you the next time, his jaw drops like a malfunctioning lid. Luckily, his group is enjoying some free time exploring the science room so he has time to quickly approach you.

"You, um..." he tries to form words, ask you something very polite probably, but you bite your lip and his pupils dangerously dilate.

He pushes you behind 'staff only' little door in the next room and shoves your body against the wall. It is so cramped in there and you can't move - not that you want to. This 'rusty old man' how he called himself, is all but out of practice, and you get wet just thinking about what he could do to you right now.

"I'm not blind," he growls and pushes his clawed hand into your hair pulling your head backwards. He licks your neck along your jugular. "You're toying with me."

"You think?" your sarcastic remark is cut short by his hand sliding between your thick thighs and lightly touching your mons pubis.

"Why did you leave this morning?" he asks you but doesn't let you answer because he pushes his tongue inside your mouth. All you can do is moan and suck. "Why?" he repeats letting you catch your breath.

"I-I'm not sure," you reply, mind hazy, "I wanted us to think about everything, I guess. Analyze things."

"I see," he hums as his finger slithers inside your panties and rubs your lewdness while his other hand grips your hips. "I recon we're both done thinking."

He pulls his finger out and licks it with the tip of his tongue. Your pussy throbs.

"We should get back to work," he says, blushing again, returning to his old flustered self... and kisses his wet finger before exiting the storage room with a naughty wink.

[ third part coming soon! ]

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Tagging: @kurtswld

"Human nature is something fickle," The words left Chrollo’s mouth, and they weren't pretty and charming as he always presented them. He was far too pissed off to care how he was presenting himself to you. Right here and now, he wasn't a gentleman, a well-mannered man who liked to read and discuss.

Looking at him now, he was the Phantom Troupe's leader. A killer and a monster. Your heart was beating louder at each step he took in your direction. It was a dangerous symphony, a requiem you weren't fond of. Yet, he seemed amused, fond of it, even.

"They lie, betray and kill," He kneeled in front of you, and while you tried to put distance between both of you, trying to crawl away, Chrollo pulled you back to him by your neck, his nails digging into your soft skin, making you whimper. 'You did all three of them in the span of two hours, darling. You lied to me,"

He chuckled. You weren't sure what he thought that was funny. You didn't want to know, you were far too afraid to move or talk to even think about what would he consider fun. Chrollo is a strange man, always were, always will be.

No... not man.

He was something else. Him and his little family. All murderers, all bad people.

He caressed your face in a tender way. The same way he used to when he first fell for you; the tears started to fall from your eyes at that. Whether it was because you really thought you could have escaped him or because you didn't want to know what he was going to do to you now.

"You betrayed my trust in you," He muttered, nuzzling his face against your neck, his hand still holding it, depriving you of breathing as he exhaled. "You betrayed my troupe's trust. And trust is something important for us. We have our backs, we're family, and when you lied to me, you lied to them."

"I didn't kill anyone..." You struggled to say, your last defiance slowly disappearing as you held onto his hand, trying to escape his grip, but it was impossible. "I'm... not like you."

Chrollo’s grip tightened slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he let out a low chuckle. "Oh, my dear," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "Not like me? Perhaps you think you're better, untainted. But isn’t it fascinating how far desperation can push someone? How quickly survival overrides morality?"

You flinched, the weight of his words pressing down on you like an iron cage. He pulled back just enough to look into your tear-streaked face, his thumb stroking your jaw in a mockery of comfort. "You may not have killed anyone," he continued, "but your actions led to consequences. If you understand what I'm saying."

You shook your head weakly, choking on your own breath. "I didn’t mean for this to happen," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"But it did," Chrollo said sharply, his tone cutting through you like a blade. "And now, here we are. You thought you could run, thought you could escape me. Did you really believe I’d let you go so easily?"

His hand slid from your neck to your chin, tilting your face up so you couldn’t avoid his piercing gaze. "You’re mine," he said firmly, like a promise and a threat, his dark eyes gleaming with a possessive intensity that made your stomach churn. "You’ve always been mine, and no amount of running or lying will change that."

The air between you was suffocating, and despite your trembling, you mustered the courage to whisper, "What are you going to do to me?"

Chrollo smiled then, soft and almost kind, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His mask was back on his face. "What I’m going to do, my darling, is ensure you never feel the need to run from me again."

He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead as though to seal his promise. "I’ll remind you of your place, remind you of the bond we share. And by the time I’m done, you won’t dream of leaving me again. You’ll know where you belong."

The cold finality in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. As he pulled you into his arms, cradling you like a precious possession, you realized there was no escaping Chrollo Lucilfer — not now, not ever.

[bokunokamijirou]

lowk hear me out:

post war, touya is recovering in the hospital, and rei comes and visits reader in jail to learn more about her son since they were dating 🥺

A Mother's Word

TouyaxF!Reader

ft. Rei Todoroki

You had told the guards no visitors. You knew if anyone were to come see you, it'd just be to laugh in your face.

The war wasn't kind to you, but it was harsher to your boyfriend, Touya. While he was burning alive with his family, you were attempting to subdue heroes far from your love.

It's what All For One insisted upon, so you had to listen.

But you didn't join the League for him. Not even for Touya. The message that Shigaraki was spreading about a world where people who were seen as villains had the same chances as heroes? That was something you wanted, no, needed to believe in. Your family abandoned you when you were younger, and you'd been running along the streets ever since.

You joined the League and found your new family, purpose, and the love of your life.

You just didn't know what it meant, loving Dabi. Because you didn't love him, no, well- maybe you did. But it was Touya, the man he was when it was just you two, alone- that's who you love.

So, imagine your surprise when you discover his own mother had arrived to visit you. You had only heard short stories about Rei, and you weren't entirely sure what to expect when you met her.

The guards approach you, asking if you'd see her. She hid behind them clutching her bag, but the sadness and exhaustion across her face made you feel sympathetic. He had her eyes, after all.

"Okay, just this once," you manage to croak out as you suddenly feel self-concsious. What could she want? Is Touya recovering still? Is Endeavour coming too? He better not, you'd go feral trying to hurt him. Even if Touya didn't want you to, you'd always hate that man for what he did to his family.

"I- I was just visiting Touya in the hospital yesterday" Rei says quietly as she stands in front of the bars caging you in. "He was asking about you."

"Typical Touya, worried more about me than he is about himself. I'm doing fine..." you reply coldly, avoiding eye contact.

"He- he said he wanted me to meet you." Rei placed her hand gently on the metal bars separating you both.

You stop and glance up at her, the way her eyes were pleading for answers made you freeze. "He said that to me too, before, you know-" you respond softly this time.

"Can you... can you tell me about him?" Rei's voice cracks as she asks.

"About him?" You look at her puzzled.

"My son, he was so young when he disappeared that I- what's he like?" Rei questioned, her eyes wide.

"Touya... Touya he's-" You start and choke back the tears that are trying to fall. "He's an idiot. He doesn't think before he jumps into danger because he's not afraid to die... that's how we met actually." You smile fondly as you wipe the small drops of water off your cheeks.

"I was supposed to just do recon for the League, my first solo mission. But it was a trap and the heroes had me cornered. I didn't know what to do- I froze. I was ready to give up. Then Touya just kind of showed up, right in front of me. Didn't even think twice."

Rei hesitantly smiles as she nods, "That sounds a lot like Touya, glad to know he didn't lose that part of him."

"He's protective, that's for sure. Got jealous easily... whenever they'd send me on missions without him he'd find some way to tag along. I think that ever since we met, it was like he felt he had to protect me... like he was afraid to ever lose me" you start to cry and let your head fall into your hands.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry dear. I didn't mean to make you cry," Rei frowns.

"I love him so much... you created a beautiful son- I just miss him so much" you manage to sob out.

Rei nods, wiping her own tears, “what else do you love about him?”

“He was honest with me… he told me about you all too, before we even started dating…”

Rei freezes, but continues listening.

“He’s a great listener. Lets me talk about anything. And god, when you get him started, he never shuts up…” You smile to yourself. “What I’d do to hear his stupid voice again…”

"He's going to be okay... he's recovering..." She smiles reassuringly but with a pang of sadness.

"Can you tell him something for me the next time you see him?" You ask her hopefully. Rei nods in response.

"No goodbyes, I'll see you soon, idiot." you smile and finally lift your head to meet Rei's eyes once more. She smiles and nods.

You didn’t think this was how you’d meet your future mother-in-law, but your relationship with Touya had never been predictable anyways.

[azrealini]

I think you're right about this being made to show off because, speaking from a nursing perspective, this thing would be a nightmare for patients and providers trying to give care. Some things I noticed were:

Patients who want to transfer from their bed to their chair can't do so on their own anymore. There's no armrest for them to support their own weight on if they're capable of self-transfers.

The aforementioned lack of support is a major issue; this wouldn't even be comfortable for an able-bodied person because you're constantly relying on your core strength and balance to move around. This would get uncomfortable and exhausting after a while.

Patients with a weakened core are not going to be able to steer this at all, and no one would be able to help them either because, well, no back or handles.

It seems difficult to steer, and you'd have to lean pretty far to steer it, which isn't going to work for people with musculoskeletal or neurological diagnoses. Hell, even the two people in this video seemed to have difficulty maneuvering it; notice how the video edits out the little cone agility course they set up.

It's large and cumbersome, making it hard for anyone to maneuver if they're not sitting in it. That means if, say, a patient wants to reposition it to get in more easily, they won't be able to do that. Would anyone be able to reposition it without needing to sit in it? It doesn't seem like you can.

Speaking of getting in it, I'd be terrified of a patient leaning too far back into it and falling right out of the chair. It's also pretty high up compared to a normal wheelchair, so they'd be falling backward onto their head from a higher point.

While the chair itself is large, the seat is actually pretty small. Very thin people would be able to sit in this chair but what about the other large percentage of wheelchair users who're overweight?

These are just what I could think of immediately off the top of my head, and I'm sure other things would make this dangerous. If this was made for anyone to actually use, it'd probably be the most able-bodied person who may have broken a leg, and, even then, this would be much more impractical than a pair of crutches. This was literally just Honda saying "Look what we can do!" with technology that's been around for years with hoverboards and wouldn't be suitable/usable for anyone. The people who'd buy and use this are the same people who'd drive a cybertruck.

[doctordeathawaits]

INFO - LIST FOR TRANSABLED AID ACCESS

A list of discreet access of assistive aids , ways to hide assistive aids , and euphoria inducing replacements .

Where to get assistive aids ?

01 , An obvious choice would be online shopping , although discreet shopping can be a bit difficult . Buying many things at once so you get a big / couple of packages could be a way to not turn any eyes , especially now that the holidays are coming up . " But I live with people who have the tendency of opening my packages " , there are a couple of options of what you can do - use a p.o box or locker service ( ex: amazon locker will send you an email with pickup instructions ) , choosing a specific delivery time of when you are only home / you have time to be the first one to pick it up ( tip : have delivery notifications on so you can be the first one to receive it ) , have delivery instructions to specify where to put the package ( ex : behind a pot plant , under the steps , etc ) , have it delivered to your friends / work . " But big shopping sites aren't safe for me " , Facebook Marketplace and Craigslist could be a better option for you , may be also safer as you can request the person selling you the item to make it discreet / can also be on the cheaper end , as they tend to be used . It can also be safer on the end of simply picking it up , making it so that there isn't any sort of electronic transaction that can be seen on a bank / phone receipt . 02 , Thrifted / Yard sales are also a good option - not only is it generally more discreet , allowing you to take it home by simply putting it in your bag without any other notice , but it's also generally cheaper , seeing that often times its used items still in a somewhat good condition . " What / where do I look for ? " , I would often suggest Goodwill , as they tend to have a wider range of mobility aids . You can also find them at your local small shops - try calling ahead and asking if they have anything , as they mostly will have more time to look through their storage . " How do I know it's worth it ? " , shopping out is a greater option as you can test out if the aid is good for you . When shopping for aids , test if they are sturdy , if they are the right size for you / there is any ability to diy fix it to your measurements , and how you would be able to put it away / hide it .

When it comes to what sort of aid is the most discreet : Canes : foldable canes are the most discreet , they are compact and are able to be carried in a bag . Double use canes , such as umbrella canes , are also discreet in the sense of being able to play it off as just an umbrella . Rollator : also good to consider a foldable rollators / walkers , ones that also have a seat can be passed off as just portable seats . Wheelchairs : Wheelchairs , unless you live in a spacious area without any judging eyes , are hard to turn discreet . While folding wheelchairs are a thing , plus lightweight ones - like most wheelchairs , they are expensive , and often are badly fitted / uncomfortable . ++ temporary replacements are a better option . Hearing Aids : Hearing Aids kept in their case can very easily be passed out as to be wireless earbuds / there are many hearing aids that resemble simple ear buds. Although , Hearing Aids bought online aren't the most reliable , and may be even dangerous - so temporary / thrifted replacement is a better option .

Where do I hide my aids if I am in an unsafe environment ?

While hiding things from the people you live with can be draining , it is still suggested for your safety .

01 , Folding Aids - Any aid that is able to be neatly folded and easily stored is the best when it comes to hiding . Placing them in bags in also the best , as you are able to take them out once you leave your place . Another way would be having a designated spot outside your place , where you can easily access it once you are out . More ways of hiding them : in drawers , unused umbrella holders , under your mattress , in coat hoodies , old shoe boxes .

02 , Aids with Wheels - While trickier , definitely able . The biggest suggestion is to have folding versions . You can fold them and store in the back of your closet along the wall . You can put it on the frame of your bed and put a mattress over it . If you have a rug , putting it specifically near / under your bed , and then the aid right under the rub can also be an option . If you have a dresser , sliding it between the wall and the dresser's side can help . On top of closets can also be good . When needing to store it for outside use , big portfolios could fit them . 03 , Hearing Aids - Probably the easiest to hide as they resemble ear buds . Although getting custom / decorated cases can be good for disguising them . Nonetheless , if needed , hiding them in small pockets of backpacks , coat pockets , pencil cases can be extra security . " What if I immediately need to hide something for my safety ? " , when opening your drawer - look past the drawer / take it out , you will see that there is room on the inside of the frame , even with the drawers fully closed . You can throw any smaller sized aid in that space , and then simply take out the drawers to take it back when ready . Another way for more bigger aids - take out all of the drawers from a dresser , put the aid inside , then put the drawers back in . If the back of your dresser is a softer material that's able to be cut , cut a ⊏ shape so that it creates a flap , put your aid in and tape the flap , put your dresser back up on the wall - the flap is an easier access than taking out all drawers . Although if you feel like you are in immediate danger for having an assistive aid in your home , prioritize your safety and take the aid out of your home . You are worth more than something that you will be 100% able to get back in the future < 3

DIY - ING

Everyone should be able to have access to assistive aids - even when it comes to creating their own .

Folding Crutches . ( need to already have simple crutches ) Cane out of yardsticks . ++ easier , You can make a cane by taking hard pvc pipe , sealing the bottom + adding a stopper ( shaped rubber or foam ) , while at the top you cut out to sides of a handle - a top and bottom , glue it with hot glue and attach it.

While it may not be as sturdy - it's still a good alternative .

More affordable assistive aid shopping :

essentailaids.com , affordable canes / crutches / walkers - lots of accessories , has wheelchairs too .

mobilityshop.co.uk , also affordable AND a huge range , so you have some options . Also offers accessories and some more simpler accessibility aids .

argos.co.uk , on the more pricier end yet still quite affordable , also offers joints support and braces .

abilitysuperstore.com , while not as affordable as other sites , still has a pretty decent price range - but has way more options to offer .

[senseandaccountability]

HR department romance plots

I just… beyond the surface level of enjoying a new game with new relationship dynamics to explore, I really can’t feel much about the DAV companions or their romances.

They all just seem so disconnected from the story, from Rook (who in turn is entirely disconnected from all kinds of feelings because Rook is just Employee Of the Year), from the world, from themselves. I feel like Cole here, looking at them and saying in my gentle, fleeting voice: even the dwarves don’t really remember dwarves. It really feels like the interpersonal relationships are written by the HR person who sits with you as union rep to tell you that you should use a positive language, that "we are all simply employees here, it doesn't matter what title you have", give a little pep talk about teamwork and how to get the job done. That's what we're here for. Everyone's equal. We all want the same thing here, your boss is your friend. Have you tried talking to this person, see their side of things, mmmm? It's just... yeah, they're cute, all of them. But why do they like each other? Why do they want to be with Rook? Who are they even in relation to the world of Thedas, what do they believe in, what have they overcome, what do they hate, what sort of prejudices do they carry around? I have no idea.

And since I’m also replaying DAI again, I wanted to compare these romances to my canon romances in DAI.  With Blackwall, you immediately get a sense of attraction and a sort of flirting on his part that suggests this is something he falls into quite easily - “you know a lot about girls” to quote Cole - BUT it’s also something he really, really thinks he shouldn’t be doing now. Why? He is tied to the Warden plot, if you bring him along you get a sense of a man hiding shit but you don’t really understand what, and he still comes to see you (flying/climbing up your balcony wall idk) because he can’t step away. You get to tell him he’s a good man even though you know shit about that at this point, like with Anders in DA2 you can give your PC over to this passion/love despite knowing that there’s something off, something potentially harmful or dangerous. There is conflict, there are things that jar, that can even make you uncomfortable. 

Blackwall as a character is open and compassionate. He approves of mercy, shows mercy, he isn't judgmental of others. In sharp and delicious contrast Blackwall’s crime is vile. He isn’t bound by any sort of oath, he can back down, there is no greater good whatsoever in his actions. It’s inexcusable. And yet. YET. You can CONTINUE THE ROMANCE. He killed a wagon full of kids, THEN RAN AWAY AND LET HIS MEN TAKE THE BLAME and hates himself so much that he tries to become someone else by erasing his previous self from the face of the earth. You can still kiss him and tell him you want him to live and redeem himself. It’s fucking incredible to think about this in the light of Veilguard actually. Your LI, the child murdering coward. 

With Iron Bull you have the doubts all spread out on the table. He’s a spy, how could you ever trust him? He also doesn’t respond to your flirting, why the hell not when you hear through ambient dialogue that he’s fucking half the chantry, isn’t he supposed to be a fuckboy? But he’s fun, he’s a mystery, he’s got fascinating banter with everyone, he’s brought his found family along, he’s a Qunari who at least somewhat believes in the Qun - he’s got AMAZING conversations with Solas that characterizes Bull as deeply intelligent (and Solas as much more caring than he’d let on) and knowledgeable about surprising things like architecture. Cole, as always, gives us more insight into Bull’s mind along the way and even before the offer to ride the Bull, the idea of him has been through some adjustments. You change his idea about a lot of things and in return, Bull challenges your idea of him, your idea of the Qun, your idea of the world and possibly, depending on how you react to his romance, your idea of intimate relationships. The game’s writing allowed me to imagine a rather frumpy circle mage in her mid 30s reluctantly forming a friendship with this strange fellow, only to find herself very much attracted to him, only to find herself being cared for in a way she would never have let anyone do before simply because Bull told her that was the only way he’d be with her. This is how we’ll do it, are you in? Your LI, the service top Qunari spy who is terrified he’ll run mad without his belief system to dictate his actions. 

And Solas. I mean mythical love stories culminating in mythical endings aside, what I really fell for in this relationship was the refreshing dynamic not of enemies to lovers but of two souls just sort of connecting instantly during strange events, taking a few hard looks at each other and going oh shit it’s you, you get me HOW is it possible you get me when nobody else does? There’s so much external drama surrounding them, which is why I personally LOVE and ADORE how calm their internal connection actually is. They know, so early in the game, that this is it. You’re my home, you understand the bones of me, you ask questions no one else thinks of asking, you care about the world in a way I haven’t seen anyone else do. He is LITERALLY the only one who understands your Lavellan when they make her the herald, when she protests and they keep pushing and pulling and sing their song after Haven, and Solas is there to be sarcastic about it. If nothing else, I'd fall in love with that. And there’s this sense of impossibility from the very beginning, a sense of it being almost unreal because the first kiss is in the Fade, the second is in a frenzy where Solas goes from 0 to I LOVE YOU, MY HEART and then leaves and you know, you know how this is coded and YET - he seemed so wise and kind and sad, it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth. And even with this connection of souls, things chafe - he’s an absolute bastard about certain things, he mocks your heritage and you don’t know yet that it’s because a huge guilt blanket rests on top of him since thousands of years back, you can just argue back and receive his disapproval. He says it’s selfish of him to start anything with you yet he does - WHY DO YOU DO THAT, SAD EGG? Your LI, the ancient god of rebellion, treachery and lies, depending on the story. 

Even beyond my favourites, there are conflicts. Sera is A LOT (affectionate) if you're an elf, with Cullen you get a substance abuse story-line tied to his general dismay about his past as a really fucked up templar, Dorian has personal trauma and cultural prejudice he struggles with for the entire game, Vivienne is so complex half the fandom hates her and has very awkward and uncomfortable banters with almost everyone (save for Bull because he treats her like he would a tamassran), Cassandra is constantly challenged in her personal beliefs, very clearly reflected in her conversations with Solas and Cole has a whole personal plotline about deeply existentialist matters. What does it mean to be alive? Who is a person and who gets to decide that? He could have been a person, Varric says. Isn't he already? Does this unit have a soul? Not to mention that Cole functions chiefly as a speaker of truths, bringing a lot of complexity to the others. 

DAI is not perfect by any means but I feel like I know these bastards. I feel like my PC or even I could actively dislike some of them, because they are written to create dynamic conflicts inside and outside of their own arcs. I can write fic about them, I can imagine what they're doing during the events of DAV because I know them.

Because they are written like actual people in a world where some people have power over others and some people have been raised with a certain belief system and some people just have shitty takes on society, may they learn. 

[gildeddlily]

season 2 started off beautifully. I was ecstatic at the end of episode three, for the simple reason that it had the same spirit as season 1. Vi feeling like she made a mistake so big trying to reach Powder instead of seeing Jinx and the danger she represented that the only way to fix that for her was to join her oppressors. Caitlyn destroying all the progress she'd made, unlearning what she'd been taught about Zaun by being with zaunites like Vi, the moment one of them killed her mother, and embracing her roots we can say, talking of bad blood and "I thought you were different"- showing that the internalised racism was always there ready to resurface the moment it had an excuse to. Caitlyn saying that her mother being killed by a teenager who's never dealt with her trauma and mental illness is the same thing as Vi's parents being killed by members of a military institution, disregarding everything she knew about the pain and abuse Vi went through because of the Enforcers. a "men get abused too" situation, in which one ignores the social and historical background of that type of violence to feel less sorry about it. they were perfectly well written, because they are things we see everyday. my father taught me as a child that black people crossing the Mediterranean to look for work in Italy were a good thing, and now that he's had problems at work with one he's started saying the opposite. a gay man I knew laughed at trans folks and said they made things worse for us, ridiculing them in the company of straight people to feel less threatened. (not the exact same thing as what happened to Vi, but you get what I mean).

those are real things, and Arcane has always been good at showing real things.

later on, episode seven, Jayce fell down. he landed in the deepest hole of Zaun, broke his leg, was forced to wear a brace to walk, suffered and had to claw his way back to the surface, to Piltover, in a strange metaphor of Viktor's journey and life (saw a post talking even more beautifully about this, will put the link here if I find it again), and once he met Viktor again, he told him his illness, his legs, he, were beautiful. not despite everything. because of it. and now he can understand him a little more. now he says "your imperfections are beautiful" and we can believe him, because he's not speaking from the perspective of a man trying to convince his friend to stop harming others. he's a man trying to make his partner see that he still loves him, now that he's finally understood him after years of trying to reach the truth and always being stopped by something, and that he understands him enough to know why he's harming others, and that he cares for him enough to think that he will be able to understand why it's wrong. it's Viktor accepting the inevitability of being seen by someone who went to hell and back to reach him.

those were fucking beautiful arcs. they were.

and then?

Vi saw Caitlyn become what she'd always said she wouldn't become, and there were no repercussions. Catelyn got to walk away and live all the same. she lost an eye to Ambessa, but it was no punishment for what she'd done. how many people did she harm? how many people did her actions have repercussions on? Vi shouted at her once, and then it was like it had never happened- which is still real, I guess. it happens everyday. but I didn't see any wish to make us see how that was wrong. I don't want to be told "this is wrong", I'm old enough and smart enough to understand this, but I also think I can see the difference between trying to show deeper meanings and not wanting to deal with difficult plot lines.

and Zaun? it was sad. pathetic. years of abuse were what, forgotten and then vanished in thin air because there was a common enemy? that, sadly, isn't real. it isn't. years or oppression can't be forgotten so easily, not by the oppressed, for one "glorious" fight. it's lazy. what started as a good depiction of reality turned into an american wet dream of big fights and sad sacrifice scenes and epic love stories that cross any difficulty, and economic and social difference. don't you dare say something against Caitlyn and Vi's ending, they went through all that, they deserve nice things. they do. many other people did. no one cared about them tho.

so.

epic failure. good soundtracks tho.

[cancerian]

This is why when discussing issues concerning black people or in this case black women/girls it is important to implement these characteristics in the slogan. Say her Black name, cannot be easily co-opted without answering to the fact that the co-option takes away the violence that Black women face. Yes, we should advocate for equality and peace, but anyone who knows the history of Black people and other minorities should tread carefully when interacting with these so called fellow minorities. Not to get too deep into history but, anti- blackness permeates through all marginalized societies. I say this because I want us to understand that it is not only the “white” man/person that views you as less than human. The other groups greater proximity to “whiteness” makes them an even greater danger to you compared to the “white” man/person. They can harm you and lean on their minority status to shield themselves from the accusation of racism. So, maybe we should move away from the claim of racism and side more with the claim of anti- blackness and get rid of the “POC” and “minority” statements. I do implore that we diverge away from the victim mentality, and simply learn to view the world for what it is. Everyone is in it for themselves, and it seems only Black people globally fail to understand that.

what continues to be insane to me is how "Say Her Name" was created because of how people (including other Black people!) ignored the violence Black women were experiencing and now it's become a phrase that's been misappropriated arguably even more than "Black Lives Matter" and every time you try to point out that the use of it to refer to anyone who is not a Black woman is disrespectful people call you chronically online. hate all you bitches fr

[dustysalmon]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 3

Pairing: Silco x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: graphic depiction of violence; slow burn; enemies to lovers, enforcer!reader Word count: 4.2k

Summary: After a chain of unexpected events, Jinx is arrested, and you find yourself in possession of the gemstone. On top of it all, you are forced into a reluctant alliance with Silco. What else could possibly go wrong?

Takes up at the end of episode 7.

Read on ao3 ⎜ Previous chapter

The air is wrong, heavy and oppressive, pressing against your chest like a weight. It reeks of iron, sharp and metallic, clinging to the back of your throat until you can taste it. The ground shifts beneath you, unstable. There is chatter everywhere all at once, voices raging you on, they echo like a vicious prayer, going on and on. You don’t catch the words, not all of them, but one cuts through the noise.

"Do it."

The sound of a broken bottle shattering in the street jolts you awake from your regenerative slumber. You run a hand through your hair and glance at the old pendulum clock. Shit, you’ve been asleep for nearly three hours. You sigh. When does a nap become not a nap anymore? The coffee you’d made before slipping into unconsciousness still sits on your desk. As expected, it’s cold as rain, but you drink a sip regardless. It tastes just as bad as it sounds, and by the time you’re halfway through the third gulp, you regret it. You’ve never really liked coffee. Too bitter and burnt. Too ashy. You know that taste, breathed it in and consumed it for years working in the mines. Of all the memories you have from that time, this is one you’d rather do without. But the drink certainly provides you a with a much needed kick, though, so occasionally, you give in.  

You put the cup down next to your folded uniform with a sound of disgust. You fidget with the golden epaulettes, wondering if showing up in full gear at what is likely the heart of the undercity is a judicious idea. Enforcers have never been particularly welcome in these parts. Save for the industrial district, they don’t really venture these streets anymore unless some unexpected event arises, or the Council explicitly demands it. Walking the streets is not inherently dangerous, but showing up like this at the Eye of Zaun’s doorstep could easily be taken as provocation. 

No vest, you decide, and definitely not that ridiculous helmet. You put on your uniform pants, secure your thigh holster tightly, and slide your weapon into place. For good measure, you tuck a sizeable dagger into your boot. Your badge is a little worn out, scratched and not as shiny as it once was. Good thing they’ll be giving you a brand new one soon. You snap it onto your belt and take a breath.

Before falling asleep, you had the time to think about how you would approach this. But as it’s time to go now, you’re not so sure of your decision anymore. The Gemstone still lays intact in its nest of straw and cotton. Bringing it with you had seemed like a reasonable idea a few hours ago, but now that you’re well-rested, it just sounds dangerous. Even so, you take it out and carefully place it in one of your utility pouches.

It’s an insanely risky move, you realise that, but it’s not like you have much else to show for. If there is one chance to get Silco to hear you out, then the Gemstone has to be it. The man dealt with Marcus after all—there must have been some kind of exchange or agreement between them. That means he’s not entirely opposed to working with enforcers. If anything it’s simply a calculated move on his part. 

Piltover and the undercity are not mutually exclusive, despite all the disagreements and conflicts that oppose them. And while it is common knowledge that many Zaunites want its independence, from a purely economical standpoint, it seems unrealistic to pull out completely from topside’s economy. Virtually all exports go there—chemtech, Shimmer, food. And needless to say that underground food is already not too popular. Shimmer, though frowned upon in Piltover, plays vastly different roles depending on where you are. For most Pilties, it’s just a recreational drug. But for Zaunites, it’s often a desperate means of survival, a lifeline—one as brutal as it is short-lived. Most in the undercity can’t even afford it, and those who can tend to die quickly, whether from overdoses or the craving that comes afterward. 

The undercity cannot sustain itself completely with the way things are at the moment, shutting down the export would be the final nail in the coffin. Merchants are visibly suffering from the recent blockade, and it’s only been a couple of days. If tensions don’t subside soon, the damage would be irreparable. Maybe you could get a word in with Warren now that he is in charge—the thought makes you uncomfortable— but you doubt he would lift the blockade. He’s always looked at the undergrounds with nothing but disdain and contempt. Lots to think about, you sigh, and lock the door behind you. 

You take one of the city elevators to get to the upper levels. If there is a thing that works in the undercity, it’s those massive moving platforms. They’re essential to everyone who lives or works in the undergrounds. Whenever one of them breaks down, maintenance workers know better than to delay repairs—unless they want to risk being "encouraged" to act faster in a dark back alley. Before heading to your final destination, you stop by a scrap workshop to send a memo through the pneumatic tube systems. The riskiness of the situation isn’t lost on you, so…contingencies. 

The Lanes are a much more pleasant district than where you come from—by undercity standards. If your mom weren't so stubborn about clinging to her old house, you would have moved there with her. The area is buzzing with bars, fighting pits, brothels and enough entertainment for a lifetime. This part of town never truly sleeps. And situated right in the heart of it is the Last Drop. It is some kind of an institution—the place where Zaunites come to meet, drink, and brawl. It’s definitely not as family-friendly as it once was, but you would argue it kept its charm.  

The building certainly stands out, a large neon green eye on its front, overlooking the streets, watching and monitoring like an invisible hand. Loud muffled music fills your ears even though the entrance is still a couple feet away. Two drunkards are being unceremoniously tossed out by a bouncer that is twice the size of any human you’ve ever seen. The pair keep swinging at each other outside, bottles in hand, emptying a little more at each movement. Frankly, the wind has more to fear than anyone else. While the bouncer is still busy keeping them away from the establishment, you sleep in through the unmistakable asymmetric door. 

The bass thrums through the floorboards, making the place vibrate, you can feel each beat  in your core. The air is filled with sweat and burnt ozone. Smoke from cheap cigars curls lazily beneath the neon lights buzzing overhead, plunging the room in vibrant greens, blues, and  reds.

People chatter and shout at the bar, desperately trying to compete with the music. Good thing most of the occupations you see don’t require much talking. In the back, a pool game unfolds with a small crowd pressing close, exploding with cheers and groans whenever the cue ball cracks against its target. Coins fly from all parts, clattering onto the felt as bets are settled. Closer to you, a drinking game is in full swing, the two participants slamming their fists in time with the chanting onlookers. Other tables host quieter contests like cards games, dice rolls, the opponents faces locked in concentration despite the noise.

Your enforcer instincts can’t help but zero in on the plethora of illicit activities taking place in the not-so-discreet booths lining the edges of the venue. In one of them, an older man with a clockwork monocle sits alone, a small stack of coins and a ledger in front of him. He adjusts the monocle with a twitch of his hand as he counts. People come and go from his table in quick exchanges, sliding small bags of coins or slips of paper across to him, always leaving with a vial or two of chem-fluids—you can’t exactly tell which one. And then of course, there’s Shimmer—everywhere. You’re in the belly of the beast after all. 

In another booth, a trio is enjoying the product in all its forms. One of them, a woman with a mechanical hand, uncaps a vial with a twist, the purple liquid inside glows faintly, very distinctive. She pours a drop onto her tongue, her eyes dilate instantly as she leans back with an exhale. One of her companions breathes in the product directly from a mask, and the man sitting across from them seems to be injecting himself directly via a makeshift IV device. All is well in the heart of the undercity: ugly, loud, and oddly energetic. Maybe you should go out more often. 

You make your way through the raucous crowd, some rare customers are sober enough to recognise the badge hanging from your belt. If they feel offended or even slightly threatened by your presence, they make no show of it. Having worked quite a bit around the industrial district, you recognise a few of Smeech’s goons. They’re hard to miss with the outrageous body augments—unsurprising, given that it’s their boss’s area of expertise. They make sure to flaunt it every chance they get.

It is no secret that they take a lot of pride working for the chem-barons, whichever one it may be. It’s a sign of status that is rather difficult to achieve in these streets. Chem-barons quite simply represent the ruling class among Zaunites. They reign supreme over their respective districts with an iron hand, always dancing on the questionable edge of order and terror. Most topsiders are incapable of admitting that the undercity is anything more than a giant disorganised cesspool, a realm of anarchy. But those who call it home know that this couldn’t be further from the truth. Within the city lies a cleverly constructed hierarchy with distinct branches, loosely implemented laws, and, ironically, even a council. It’s perfectly imperfect, but it’s been holding the undercity together for as long as you can remember—no mere fit. you suspect that the man you’re here to meet tonight, should he be so inclined, is at least partially responsible for that. 

A set of stairs and balcony hover above the bar, which you guess lead directly to the lair of the Eye of Zaun, but as you expected, two bouncers are blocking the way, arms crossed and menacing faces on display. You nod politely to both of them, not that you believe manners will get you anywhere here. They look you up and down, eyes stopping briefly on the gun resting at your hips.

"I’m here to see your boss." You shout over the music, unsure if they can hear you at all. By their shared expression, you can tell that they do—they’ve adapted to this cacophony long ago.

"He’s not expecting," says the man on the left, though you have to read it on his lips as he doesn’t bother to speak up. 

You press your luck. "It’s very important that I speak with him," you insist.

You try to plead your case, but they don’t seem very inclined to let you pass. Fuck, you didn’t think this through at all. And who’s idea was it to come at this hour, with this racket all around you. The last thing you want to do is make a scene in front of an audience. You go for the usual techniques, asking them to imagine what would happen if their boss found out they prevented crucial information from reaching him. But they remain unmoved.

"Is there a problem here?" a voice asks from the side. You turn around and crane your neck up about sixty degrees to look at the imposing woman towering over you. Silco’s right hand, Sevika, if you’re not mistaken. A no-nonsense type for certain. People know better than to fuck about when she’s around. You decide to be straightforward this time. 

"It’s about the girl." Her eyes widen, if only briefly. Clearly you should have started with that. No wonder you weren’t appointed to the crisis negotiation unit. Like the bouncers before her, she glances at your weapon, and holds out her hand. Without a fuss, you hand it over, which seems to surprise her in a good way. With a tilt from her head, she motions for you to move ahead. You do as instructed climbing the stairs and following a long corridor until you reach a weathered wooden door. Sevika opens it without a word, or knock, and gestures for you to step inside, moving behind you like a shadow.

And there he is, sitting in a large armchair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, and a cigar smouldering between his long fingers. He doesn’t greet you or offer any pretence of civility—you expected nothing less. He does look at you intently however, his good eye fixed on you, sharp and calculating, while the other glows faintly in the dim light of the room. It’s not shocking, not when you are from the undercity, but it is striking. Unavoidable. For a fleeting second, something flickers in his expression. Recognition. He doesn’t bother to hide it, but his face remains composed. Your pulse quickens, heart drumming in your ears, feeling even louder than the music downstairs. There’s no hostility in his gaze, just that unsettling calm that feels more dangerous than any overt threat.

His outfit catches your attention. A crimson shirt, freshly pressed, with intricate golden embroidery on the cuffs; a sophisticated waistcoat adorned with elaborate patterns, straps and polished gold buttons; and a white silk tie, knotted in a cafe style. The spitting image of a Piltovian gentleman if you ignore the venue. Curious.

For what feels like an eternity, he doesn’t speak, and neither do you. The room is filled only with the muffled music coming from the bar. Impressive walls, you think to yourself. Must be nice. You hold his gaze, refusing to flinch or look away, even as his lips curl into the faintest suggestion of a smirk. You get the exact same feeling you got when you saw him first on the bridge. This inexplicable gravitas, this pull. It’s in the way he carries himself, as if the room, the city, the world itself bends around him without him even needing to try.

He takes a slow drag from his cigar, the ember flaring, before blowing the smoke aside in a cloud. You square your shoulders and lift your chin, matching his stare with one of your own. Unfortunately, you’ve never been good at this game, and start clearing your throat.

Subtly, Silco eyes’s drift to Sevika, and before you can figure out the meaning of that minuscule gesture, the woman’s mechanical arm comes swinging at you with great speed. The only reason you successfully dodge it is because you heard the metal clinking a little too close to your face. She sneers at you, her grey eyes glinting. She is incredibly fast, inhumanly so. She grips one of your wrists in her large hand and twists your arm around and behind your back. It hurts like hell but you’re not about to fold so quickly. You throw your head back and hit her square in the nose. This actually seems to hurt her a little, given the way she groans, and lets go of you. 

From the comfort of his armchair, Silco is looking very irritated, mostly with himself. Perhaps he should have heard you out right away, and spared himself this spectacle. Well, it’s too late for that now. With great efforts, you land a couple of blows to Sevika’s stomach and thigh, but she seems utterly unphased. Meanwhile, you feel the energy quickly draining from you. One moment of inattention, and you are flipped around and forcefully dropped to the ground. She has you this time. One harsh movement and you may end up with a dislocated shoulder, perhaps worse, considering the woman’s strength. 

Finally, Silco puts out his cigar and rises from his chair. He goes to stand by the window, looking away from you and Sevika. 

"Whatever you have for me, it better be worth my time." His voice is smooth but low and menacing, like the gentle press of a knife against your throat. You turn your head as much as you can to address Sevika.

"Utility pouch on the right side." You groan, your arm is starting to seriously hurt. With one hand, Sevika pokes around, making sure to keep the mechanical one firmly on you. You can’t really see what’s going on but by the way she suddenly stops moving and releases her grip completely, you can guess that she has found what you wanted her to find.

Silco’s mask finally wavers, his eyes fixed on the blue glowing orb, as if hypnotised. He shifts his gaze between you and the shiny object. He looks perplexed. On a good day, he reads his associates and foes like an open book, that’s always been his strength. It’s much easier to control people if you know what they want, and what they are ready to lose in order to get it. But you, he completely misread you. And that angers him on many levels.

"It was bold, coming here alone. I could simply order Sevika to take the gemstone from you, and dump your body in a dark alley." An empty threat, probably. You’ve always imagined the Eye of Zaun to be unapologetically ruthless, but not unreasonable. No one makes it to the very top and keeps their seat for so long without compromising. But now that he is overtly threatening your life, with intent, you are tempted to reconsider.

"We both know you have no use for it. Not until you’ve figured out how to exploit it."

"What makes you think I haven’t?" He asks, shifting his head towards you as you rise to your feet.

"I figured if you wanted to use the stone you would have done it already." Silco easily hears the doubt in your voice. 

"But you don’t know that for certain. You came here on a hunch."

"Listen, if this wasn’t obvious, I don’t know where I’m going with this," you say, a mix of panic and irritation overtaking you. "But there are people in topside who are hellbent on using Hextech technology to ends you don’t wanna find out. I came here in good faith. I came to you first."

"What is it that you want from me?" He asks, walking around the desk towards Sevika. 

"For the meantime, I am asking you—" that gets you a raised eyebrow from both Silco and Sevika. "—to not attempt any retaliation. It’ll only convince them to strike back even harder." Silco’s brain stops on that particular word, "retaliation". Does that lady enforcer have it all figured out already? What Jinx is to him? He could have sworn he’d been more careful than that. His eyes meet Sevika’s, and her message is clear. She’s warned him multiple times about his carelessness lately, and now it’s coming back to bite him in the ass. 

Sevika drops the gemstone in the palm of his hand. He rolls it around slowly, reminiscing about the day Jinx brought it back to him, then turns to you. In truth, he had hoped you would have been the one to bring her up first. Him being the one doing it, that might as well be a confession. That makes him vulnerable, he’s aware, but when it comes to Jinx, he simply can’t help it. He grabs the whisky glass that’s been sitting on the desk, and downs it in a single gulp. A hopeless attempt at displaying disinterest that is not as convincing as he thinks.

"How is she?" About time, you think to yourself. He looked about ready to burn the bridge down to get to that blue-haired girl the other day. You have yet to discover what that was all about, but you have your theories. Although it’s difficult to picture the big bad kingpin of the undercity as a father figure, it’s not as far-fetched as it seems. Or maybe Jinx is simply that good, not expandable. Something you wouldn't argue against, given the trouble she’s given you and your colleagues lately. 

"Still in recovery. You’re probably already planning some kind of extraction." You pause in the hopes of getting a hint of a confirmation, but he’s giving you nothing. "Don’t bother. For now, her best chances are with Piltover’s doctors. It’s probably more than she deserves."

Silco slams his now empty glass on the desk. You continue before he gets a chance to spit his venom towards you. "A lot of men died yesterday."

"Forgive me if I don’t collapse in a heap of grief on their behalf." You lower your head, a bitter smile adorning your face. 

"She will be transferred to Stillwater once they’re done with her. I need your word." He stays silent, weighing his options. "The Council doesn’t know I’m in possession of the Gemstone. Or anybody else, for that matter. Only the people in this room. I intend to keep it that way."

"I’m sure you understand that I cannot just take your word for it." He is right, as much as you loathe it. It only takes him a couple of seconds to come up with his terms. "I want regular updates on her condition, and a physician’s report, just to make sure you’re playing fair. It’s always…difficult to tell with enforcers."

"You want me to steal documents from the medical facility?"

"I need a guarantee." He says matter-of-factly, and deep inside, you know it is a perfectly justified request, but still.

"What’s my guarantee?" You shoot back.

"You get to walk out of here alive. It’s probably more than you deserve." He says nonchalantly, purely to spite you, and you don’t know whether you’re supposed to laugh, or strangle him. You realise that you can’t haggle your way out of this. The Gemstone was your only bargaining chip, and you used it from the get go. You don’t have any other offers to make, or any additional information to share regarding Jinx. Either you take the deal, or find out what happens when you rile up the Eye of Zaun.

"I’ll see what I can do." You say with a sigh, feeling beaten. Silco didn’t expect an enthusiastic response, but he is used to it. Something you learn when you’re accustomed to getting the better end of every deal—a skill he is not hitching to let go of. 

Satisfied, he leans against the edge of the desk after handing you back the stone, scrutinising you with narrowed eyes.

"You're not from topside, are you?"

You raise an eyebrow, a bit wary. "What gave me away?" Silco shrugs, tilting his head to the side.

"You came to me." He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Yes, because that is what all Zaunites usually do at the end of the day, they turn to him. Not matter his reputation or the gruesome tales surrounding him. He has always been considered the voice of the people of the undercity, and that counts for a lot. "And also," he adds, a sly smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "You lack that air of superiority they all have. Not quite high and mighty enough." He crosses his arms. "But the way you talk—the way you hold yourself. Almost as if you think you belong up there." You frown slightly, a hint defensive, but decide not to respond. 

Sevika hands you your weapon, and you recognise it as your sign to take your leave. Neither you or Silco set a time or place for an eventual new meeting. That’s alright. He knows you know where to find him, you think to yourself before leaving.

Sevika waits for the door to shut completely before turning to her boss.

"That’s unlike you. Swinging before talking." She says, picking up a rag somewhere to properly clean her bloody nose.

"I was right to do so, apparently. You almost made a fool of yourself there." He taunts, and Sevika scoffs, only mildly offended. Although she recognises that the little brawl shouldn’t have lasted as long as it did. She would never admit it, though.

"I wasn’t trying." 

They proceed to talk about the day, as they always do, and Silco purposely avoids the topic of the most recent meeting. It’s still too fresh in his head, and he knows that whenever Jinx is in the picture, he and Sevika can only disagree. So he asks her about the Firelights, Shimmer sales, anything to get his mind off that new deal he just made, if he can call it that. 

Suddenly, there’s an insistent knock at the door, and as soon as Sevika opens it, one of the bouncers barges in breathless, sweat covering his forehead. 

"There was an attack, sir," he says, a hand resting on his pounding chest. "It’s one of the Shimmer factories."

Thank you for reading!

Let me know if you would like a taglist :)

Chapter 1 ⎜ Chapter 2

[11queensupreme11]

What would it be like if the Gods, adults not children, know all this about Percy being from another universe and everything he's going to have to go through and somehow they end up meeting a 12-year-old Percy? I'm talking about a Percy before the field trip to the museum with Mrs. Dotts, which is to say when he didn't know anything about the Gods.

this whole thing just reminds me of this final fantasy 7 ao3 fanfic where everyone got sent back to the past AND remembered what happened... EXCEPT CLOUD and they were all frantically planning on a way to train this poor kid on how to save the world in case sephiroth goes insane again while simultaneously not telling him cuz they didn't want him to remember all his trauma 😭😭😭

(also if anyone knows which fic this, PLEASE SEND ME THE LINK CUZ I FORGOT THE TITLE AND AUTHOR AND I WANNA READ IT AGAIN!!!!)

anyway, if they got isekai-ed to percy's universe in the past AND THEY KNOW what's gonna happen to her, they are absolutely gonna scramble for a way to get back to their universe with percy in order to prevent The Plot from happening 😭😭😭😭

like "hell fucking no my baby is NOT going through any of that!!!!" 😭😭😭😭

i can't even blame them cuz imagine finding this tiny lil 12 year old girl, the de-aged version of someone you love so very much, and KNOWING she's about to go through some traumatizing shit soon and you have the chance to save her from that? they're gonna do whatever it takes to save her from that awful fate!!

poseidon is straight up kidnapping her, getting a child leash, and tethering her to him while he frantically tries to find a way to access the bifrost and send them back home, meanwhile he's got a feral 12 year old trying to gnaw through the leash 💀

hades definitely feels bad for kidnapping her from her poor mother, BUT IT'S FOR PERCY'S OWN GOOD, HE SWEARS!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 he's absolutely not gonna go to any of the gods for help because he's seen their buffoonery and wants no part of it, so it's up to him to find a way back home!!

beelzebub's not gonna bother with a child leash, after he kidnaps her he's whipping out the cuffs again cuz those have a shorter chain AND she can't gnaw them off 💀 probably gives up on the handcuffs tho when she somehow manages to break them and ends up just lugging her around like this:

apollo's gonna be such a nervous wreck. he does NOT want to kidnap her, he would prefer it if she just comes with him willingly but it comes off SO sus like "hi there little girl! do you want some candy? i'm trying to save ur life pls trust me" and percy may be 12 but she's not STUPID, so she goes "stranger danger" and runs away and now he has no choice but to kidnap her while he tries to find a way back 😭

loki's more subtle at first. he'll kill of mrs. dodds, chiron, and grover and shapeshift to become percy's new math teacher to replace dodds. he knows he still has some time before The Plot hits, so he's not TOO panicked rn and when he's not pretending to be a math teacher, he spends his time snooping around asgard to try and figure out how their bifrost works to send them both home. killing those three ^ eliminates the whole field trip issue, but you know, Fates 💀 ofc they find a way to make The Plot keep going so yeah, loki snaps and kidnaps her to keep her safe

i promise you, ten minutes into anubis' arrival in the pjo verse, the news article "freakishly tall furry man kidnaps child from yancy academy -- local furry community claims no ties to the kidnapper" is gonna spread around like wildfire 💀 he is absolutely gonna kidnap her is probably gonna spend most of the time freaking the fuck out instead of actually trying to find a way back home

cú chulainn's got it a little harder. yes he can easily kidnap her, but he's not a god. he's been blessed with his adoptive father's abilities, but he can't like... teleport, be in multiple places at once, easily search the universe in case percy runs away, etc. so he tries to be more discreet about it like loki by killing off mrs dodds and any monsters that come percy's way. he'll try to find a way to the bifrost too, but it'll be more difficult for obvious reasons. it's once The Plot hits does he finally say fuck it and just joins her to keep her close while trying to find a way to access the norse pantheon

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Gods and Humans reaction to Tesla, Sasaki, Chen Gon, and Buddha with a Wife!Reader like Jessica Rabbit (She has a voluptuous body, speaks in a seductive, breathy voice, very calm, even in danger, brave, quick-witted and having a great singing voice, as she’s a very popular singer)

Despite this though, she’s very loyal and deeply in love with her beloved, who she likes to call her ‘Hunny Bunny’ or ‘Darling’

She also took Zerofuku in as her child, even calling him her ‘Baby Bunny’ and sings him songs to help him sleep or soothe him when he’s upset

She doesn’t care about the catcalls, stares or the lust in others eyes, as she’s only devoted to her love, and doesn’t care about how others think of her, even explaining “I’m not bad… I just look that way”

However a stupid, lecherous god tried to grope her, but before her Love could react, said God proceeded to scream in pain as his hand reveals to have been caught in a bear trap (The ladies could only laugh as even Shiva commented that was a cleaver ‘booby trap’)

-Wowza- that was one of the words that many used to describe you- you were drop dead gorgeous, stunning, sexy, and just so alluring looking that you had heads turning of all genders when you walked by.

-You were a well-known and very popular singer, able to charm anyone with your beautiful, luscious voice, and paired with your looks and sexy nature when you would perform, you had admirers all over Valhalla who would do anything to just be in the same room as you.

-The only downside… YOU WERE MARRIED!!!! It wasn’t fair- someone got to you first and you were completely loyal to your ‘Honey Bunny’ (Love).

-The same eyes that watched you with awe and desire glared daggers in his direction, as they couldn’t fathom that he was married to you, thinking he had tried some underhanded trick!

-While professional but still a little sexy with others, talking with your low breathy voice that seemed to have the spines of men melting, when (Love) came around, you were so open with your affections, rushing over in your heels, hugging him close and covering him with kisses, happy to see him.

-The only other person who would get your highly coveted affections was your adopted son, Zerofuku, whom you called Baby Bunny. He was drawn to you, being able to easily sense you were a good person and he loves your hugs, you were always so warm, and he would proudly wear the proof of your love, your lipstick marks all over his face.

-You were his safe space, he could easily relax when you would sing to him, and if he was ever in his Envy form, while being salty to everyone else, he could never be like that to you. He would accept your embrace and he could just feel his anger melting away.

-(Love) was very respectful of you, if the two of you were out and about together, you would be holding his arm and he would defend you if someone were to cat-call you, calling them out on their disrespectful behavior- you were a stunning beauty, not a dog to be called.

-There were some, those who were jealous of you, who would try to spread nasty rumors that you would use your body to get your way on things, or to seduce others, but those who actually knew you knew that this was the farthest from the truth.

-When Brunnhilde, a good friend of yours, asked you this after she pulled (Love) away to keep him from attacking someone, why you didn’t do more to defend yourself, you just smiled down at her, your eyes half closed, “They can say what they want, I know who I am. I’m not bad, I just look that way.”

-However, you did prove yourself that while you let the words roll off your back, you didn’t let anyone who wasn’t your husband, or your son touch you.

-A lecherous god had seen you and thinking you were an easy mark, he immediately came over, despite it being in broad daylight while you were surrounded by many of your friends and stuck his hand down your dress to cop a feel.

-You had frozen in shock, before a loud SNAP was heard and he howled loudly, pulling his hand out, a bear trap closed around his hand as he was screaming in pain.

-Your female friends all looked proud, giving you nods of approval while many of your male friends were a bit scared, a few asking things like, “Do women really have booby traps like that?”

-You turned with a smile as (Love) hugged you, his head on your chest as he pouted, “That’s for us to know, and for perverts like this to find out.”

-You were a dangerous woman, you had beauty, brains, and so much love for your family. You were truly a work of art.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 95 (Meeting Clones in Henford-on-Bagley?!)

Despite her late Friday arrival, Heather's family welcomed her and Lavender with open arms. Winterfest wasn't far away and they planned to return for the holidays, but between guilt trips from father Neal and the birth of her second nephew, Heather had returned to her childhood home in Henford-on-Bagley for a weekend visit.

The towns were only an hour apart on the Simmerloop Superhighway, but climate in Simlandia can be strange sometimes. While coastal Brindleton Bay was coated in snow from the first day of winter to the last every year, Henford winters were grey and rainy, which usually helped Daisy's winter garden grow just as plentiful as any other season.

Daisy excitedly bounced Lavender in her arms while she caught up with her eldest child. "The Winter Harvest Festival is this weekend. Did you bring your produce?"

Heather nodded. "Thank you for letting us come one night early."

"You're always welcome, Buttercup. And how is my gorgeous granddaughter?"

"She learned to grab her toes earlier this week, and we think she's just about ready to sit on her own." Bragging about her daughter's milestones was a welcome distraction.

Heather was grateful her family didn't press her for details of her early arrival this evening. River was too busy teaching Michael not to empty his mother's paint tubes on the floor while Cass tried to get Sammy fed. Neal and Daisy were working in their garden, since their exotic produce could always draw a bit of a crowd on Finchwick Fair days.

Heather wanted to get Lavender back to bed and figure out her feelings after Conrad's confession at the dinner table. But as often as she leaned on her family, advice was the last thing she wanted right now.

She cuddled her nephews, helping River and Cass get Michael bathed and ready for bed. She stayed up late waiting for Conrad's call, though she dreaded talking to him just the same.

She wanted to be so much angrier at Conrad than she was. About the lies - over a criminal ex-girlfriend, no less - and about a lack of trust, but in truth she was already ready to forgive him. Almost. She knew what it was like to be under the spell of someone who was wrong for you. And she knew Conrad to protect those he loved with a passion she attributed to his inability to save his mother when he was young.

He'd earned the benefit of doubt, but she wanted him to know he could trust her to handle even the darkest parts of himself and his past. They were a team, through thick and thin. That's why they were getting married, wasn't it?

But she didn't want him to think he could make her fold so easily, and wanted to wait until they were together again to completely forgive him. So their phone call was short, but not devoid of their usual 'I love you.'

The next morning, her family was ready to pry into the reasons for her early arrival, and her father and brother cornered her after breakfast. "I told you Conrad went to work and he'd be investigating a d-e-a-d body all night. He wanted us to come early." She spoke carefully because four-year-old Michael was in the room.

"Is that out of the ordinary?" asked her father.

"There aren't a lot of cases like it in Brindleton Bay."

Neal scoffed. "Isn't his fancy security system enough to keep you safe? Why didn't he want you in town?"

"It's a dangerous case, and he's just worried about us."

"He lied to you, didn't he." River could read through any facade. "And now you're lying for him."

"River, please," she begged. "It's not like that."

He shot her a knowing look. "Yes it is."

She needed to be alone with her thoughts, so her family agreed to watch Lavender while she played in the yard with the family's elder dog, Bernadette, and rambunctious Michael. She focused on his childlike giggles before he went back inside to find his parents.

Taking advantage of the lonely moment, she wandered around Finchwick. The sun had come out and she soaked in the nostalgia of her hometown. Air crisp and dry, the world was quiet. She needed this.

It was still early when she heard the familiar clatter of metal - the sound of local grocers and gardeners opening their stalls to sell fresh saplings and produce to local growers.

With plans to rebuild her clinic in draft stages, Heather needed to make sure she had enough to pay the architect on completion, and she'd saved up enough for a money fruit seed. The purchase was extravagant and she should have run it by Conrad first, but she was mad enough at him to make this decision by herself.

It was an investment in her own clinic and her children's futures, anyway. Growing a money fruit tree - properly caring for and cultivating it - was a more honest way to make simoleons than the Landgraabs were doing, even if it felt like an unfair advantage reserved only for those who could afford it.

Yet with purpose she approached the flower stall with its green awning, where Everett's grandmothers, Agnes and Agatha Crumpcakes, sold seeds and blooms for decades before their deaths. Pulling out her wallet, she approached the stand ready to greet the new owners with a friendly Henford hello, only to find herself face-to-face with...Agnes Crumpcakes?

She was shocked to see none other than Everett's grandmother - (formerly?) deceased, now alive and well behind the stall curtain. "Heather Nesbitt!" she greeted warmly. "It's been too many years. How's your son, Ash?"

"He's great! So smart..." She stammered as she placed the purchased seeds in her pocket. "Mrs. Crumpcakes, is it really you? I thought you and Agatha passed away. I was so sorry to miss the funeral."

"Oh! We did die, dear. But we knew before we passed that we couldn't face an uncertain eternity without one another, so we contacted a scientist in Newcrest named Aileen Blackburn. She's slightly mad, but I mean that as a compliment - not least because she offered to clone us," explained Agnes. "She even let us keep our memories! But this time we weren't born, so we can't die. We can't even get sick now!"

Heather listened, awestruck. "Wow, Mrs. Crumpcakes, she sounds kind of amazing."

"She is! And as memory serves, I can say quite objectively she's gorgeous, too. But Agatha and I jumped at the chance for immortality knowing we'd be together. We'll never need to face saying goodbye to one another again. And the whole process was almost entirely painless."

The idea didn't sound romantic to Heather at all. Would she really want to live forever as a zombie clone to outlive her own children? Watcher, no! But she wouldn't judge Agnes and Agatha Crumpcakes for their choices.

Strange as it was, as Heather reacquainted herself with the old clones running the flower stall, she felt as though she'd known them all her life. And maybe she had...sort of.

Heather loved coming home, but as the Finchwick Fair began and the square started filling with locals, she knew her heart was in Brindleton Bay investigating a murder case. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

RECAP: I made Agatha and Agnes married and playable when I started this save - they're not cousins don't worry! - made Agatha the mother of Bob Pancakes and Agnes his stepmom (with MCCC!), and that's how I learned all the other Henford NPCs get replaced with new sims, but Agnes and Agatha get cloned. So I've actually been playing about 30 sim-years with two versions of both and I've just pretended they're the same person. I came up with the clones thing before Agnes and Agatha's playable sims died because I must have an outlandish reason why they're still around. As I got deeper into reading the adventures of mad scientist Aileen Blackburn and her family, it was obvious to me who was behind it!

In this scene Heather really is meeting the NPCs for the first time and of course Agnes loves her immediately because she's unflirty. That hug was completed Agnes-initiated!

THANK YOU @dreamyyesenia for letting me shout out the mad brilliance that is Aileen Blackburn and your epic, stunning save file! I hope you love that its now canon for me that she's the reason the Crumplebottom ladies never, ever, ever die... 😂

NOTE: When I say I will find a way to crossover mention all your stories and save files eventually (with your permission!), I very likely mean it. 😂

[truthandadare]

S2’s Mistreatment of Zaun’s Independence

Season 2 was a mess; rushed, badly paced, weakly written. A show once rich with discussions of systematic oppression, brutality, and the dangers of scientific exploration felt reduced to a good vs. evil backdoor pilot (s). Breathtakingly animated yes, and there were still moments I enjoyed and forgave—but we can enjoy groundbreaking artistry while also being critical of its flaws, especially when those flaws include social issues.

Paint the Town Blue: Enforcer Violence

Season 2 we’re meant to feel bittersweet if a little triumphant when Vi dons the uniform of an Enforcer. She remains complacent as Cait uses weapons of torture on the people of the Undercity. Vi sheds her uniform not because of any ethical disagreement over the actions of oppressors but because of the desolation of a love affair. An identity shift so vast it left her feeling morally anemic.

In the final act, much like Vi, Zaunites button their new Enforcer uniforms for “the greater good”. The tone of the hand full of Zaunites crossing the bridge to join the fight against Noxus was one of heroism, of martyrdom.

Season 1 gifted us a nuanced theme of systematic oppression and cycles of brutality among enforcers. This is an unsubtle mirror of our world’s history of police violence, and as an American seeing the topic explored so vividly was a gut punch in all the right ways. Season 2 left me puzzled….did we just want to see Vi in her predestined fate as an Enforcer? Yikes!

Simplifying Silco

As much as I could gladly spend an evening with the pretty flashback, AU, and dream images of Silco, there is no escaping the mischaracterization and simplification of his character, specially as a passionate revolutionary.

Finding Vander’s letter would have made no difference. Just as an apology from Piltover would have never been enough to warrant forgiveness. He and Zaun weave together so easily in my mind. It’s easier to imagine them defanged, a “good guy” left heartbroken who just needed to let it go or else become a drug invested wasteland.

Its harder to reckon with a the poisoned man, the betrayed man, the man of rebellion and desperation. Season 1, he was a man of moral grays, pride, textured by his willingness for violence and extremes to achieve freedom for Zaun. A man who, beyond his own tragedies, knew the complexity of blame.

Violence is a cycle…yes, but by simplifying cycles of violence and placing sole blame to those unable to walk away is reckless. Cycles of violence are often birthed from subjugation, and they fester and grow as persecutors convince victims that they are the ones to blame.

The Nation of Zaun

Of all its failures, what I find the most difficult to swallow is the mistreatment of Zaun’s *not* independence and the message of forgiveness above all else.

Sevika, Councilor Sevika, is voiceless in the last Act. Not simply in her lack of lines, but in the complete mishandling of what she stands for, who she stands for. Zaun is left with one, rather reluctant and lonely Councilor at a table that was never built for her. She will remain voiceless, drowned out by the voices of those who see her fighting against Ambessa as a testament to her being “one of the good ones” as “forgiving”.

We are not meant to forgive our oppressors. Stuck beneath the boot we do not thank them for allowing us a gasp of air. Such a message in widely distributed media in a time when fascism has its head raised high, is dangerous. Yes, it’s a show based on League of Legends, but it’s also art. Art is transcendent, it reflects our world and our truths. It has power.

Instead of using this power, Arcane Season 2 had a sincere disinterest in revolution. Nuance cast to the wind to be replaced with elementary concepts of good victorious. A watered-down hoo-rah.

My hope is that this fumbling will start more conversations about the importance of thoughtful storytelling in our modern media. Continue to have those hard discussions.

[rei-ismyname]

Resurrection of Magneto Highlights 1

RoM is a book that loses something in the highlight format as the big moments are truly earned and impactful. There's an ongoing narration, dialogue or soliloquy running through each issue tying everything together and to truly give context I'd have to annotate it. Lucky for us, Al Ewing and Luciano Vecchio are masters and every panel serves as a coda for Storm or Magneto from SWORD and X-Men Red. This is easily my longest Highlights yet, there's just so much to say.

I wish I dreamt about Magneto

Ororo has a dream of a full page splash - Magneto, Max, saying 'I was wrong' surrounded by five of his iconic helmets. 3 red ones, bloody and facing towards the world. 1 black, 1 white upright behind his back. It's been quite a while since Uranos the Undying tore his heart out on Judgement Day but it's good to see Ororo has some measure of peace and love on Arakko with Craig of NASA.

She's the deuteragonist of RoM so she chooses to follow her dream and seek Max in the afterlife. Ororo shows up at Adam Brashear/The Blue Marvel's underwater base and asks for help with exactly that. He lampshades how bozos like Reed would deem it impossible and leads her to a portal. He's in the middle of explaining how dangerous it is and requires... we don't hear because Storm takes a running leap and YOLOs into it. Tarn the Uncaring and a who's who of Marvel cosmology are there to greet her. Tarn is insulted that Ororo has come for the guy who exploded his head, but as above, so below - he loves to talk and she outwits him.

Ashake is often obliquely referred to but very rarely directly, so it's lovely to see her magical ancestor here to help. As Ororo pets her black cat, Ashake confirms this is a place of magic. Symbols and metaphors are powerful here - something Mags could use help with in his current state. It's also connected to the Kabbalistic tree of life, but I'm not very knowledgeable about that.

Two redrawn and recoloured keystone moments of Max and Ororo's relationship down the bottom.

She resolved to see this through and her thought carries her towards the Sphere of Judgement. Unexpectedly a bunch of Dominions bar her path, though luckily the two mutants are too small to truly be of interest to them. Still, a single mortal arriving in Overspace is significant and they prompt her to ask questions. The face of Dominions are shown but it's still fairy tale rules. The most important thing she learns is about Enigma, though she doesn't know it at the time.

The Sphere of Judgement is hostile, everything is inverted. Lightning is red, the river is lava, clouds are black, everything is broken. She notices this spot from her dream and the charred frames of Max's five helmets still sit in blood. Magneto has been here for months by choice, bypassing the Waiting Room Wanda built but refusing to move on. He believes he deserves this.

Finally she reaches Magneto weeping blood in front of a wall of names. Everyone he ever killed and he's counting every one, remembering their name. He's judging himself, punishing, and doesn't think he deserves to leave.

He shares his greatest shames, his most recent cruelties. Worst, the ones he convinced himself was necessary. He's overwhelmed by the red in his ledger and in this place of judgement lashes out, flinging names off the wall at Ororo while naming the person. What snaps him out of it is the mention that something happened to Charles, heh.

'The no-place of his heart' 👌

Max turns the judgement on Ororo but she rejects it, calling him out for extending Charles the grace he won't extend to himself plus a little hypocrisy. Magneto has always been prone to drama and that tendency can hurt as much as it heals.

That really gets him going, but he's judging himself more constructively now. Love, friendship, accountability. The things that are keeping some part of tethered to the living world. He pulls one more name down to say the name aloud before he sends it at Ororo - it's his - Max Eisenhardt. Still, he cries 'it's out of our hands.' He truly wants to give up but I think a part of him knows his story isn't done.

Ororo disagrees. Displaying why she's the only person who could assist in the resurrection of Magneto, she covers his eyes and remembers the rules of this place. The wall of the dead becomes its opposite - the wall of the living. Not those he killed but those he saved. It's enough to pull him out of punishing himself. Neither group should be forgotten but he can choose to save life rather than take it - to change.

Torturing yourself in a personal hell might appease some of those dead, but accepting responsibility to the living should be what comes after judgement. Suffering helps no one, and as he says to Logan as he's about to kill Charles much later - 'no more martyrs.' Part of why I enjoyed Magneto identifying Logan Behavior is because he himself is the king of it. Charles too. All three are prone to martyrdom but dying is easy. It's living that's difficult and worthwhile. Secluding yourself from the world, whether it's in the Sphere of Judgement, a mega prison, or with a pack of wolves - is senseless and selfish. Living is better.

Next time - what does that actually mean for both of them and how do they get out of this place? It's not as simple as turning a key. Choosing to live is hard work. Metatextually, change and rebirth requires a tour of all that he is, all that he's done. What's the point of killing a character and then bringing them back the same as they were? Comic books do it all the time, but Magneto's long history is a study of opposites and extremes. He, the writer and the reader all need to deconstruct Magneto so he can be reconstructed as a better person. With the benefit of hindsight we know he succeeds, but what does that actually look like for him? 60 years of his oversized influence on the world is a lot and it only gets better from here.