#i am just one person trying to help people out

[batmanego]

these are all screenshots of conversations i've had with ibrahim @wolf-aid. this doesn't even begin to cover the fact that he has lost relatives to bombings multiple times, including quite recently.

he is fifteen years old. this is an unimaginable nightmare. he doesn't deserve this. nobody does.

i'm running out of ways to make people pay attention to this campaign and care about it. ibrahim and i are both at our wit's end trying to come up with new strategies to make people care.

do you think that the genocide has stopped just because you've stopped caring about it? this is a child. this is a family. this is an entire people. donate.

ibrahim is #25 on this list.

in order to try to get more engagement with this post, i'm challenging you to tag at least one person in the reblogs of this post. i'll start with a few people under the cut.

donate and share.

@xinakwans @mavigator @thatsonehellofabird @heliopixels

[mayakern]

I honestly don’t know how to write this; I have spent all week attempting to figure out what to say.

Last Monday I was informed by our factory that our merchandiser and direct point of contact with the factory passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was someone who I have spent a great deal of time speaking to ever since we switched factories two years ago. She helped us realize designs for new products, sent us samples of garments extremely quickly and kept track of all our orders. She went to bat for us if something went wrong with our print shop or if I was unhappy with how a garment pattern was interpreted by their team. As their first American client and a brand that focuses on size inclusion, something that is not typical of their other clients, she handled a lot of crazy requests from us without blinking and she was dedicated to ensuring that both us and our customers were happy. We talked nearly every day, and though it was work related she was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure interacting with daily.

She was beyond dedicated to her work and to working with us. Turkey has an 11-hour time difference from me in California, which means when she was emailing me at 2pm in the afternoon it was 1am there. You can sure bet that I extended her the same courtesy and tried my best to answer her emails at night too, even when I would rather just be sleeping.

It was also clear just how much she loved her job, and now much she loved you guys. She had been silently watching our social media since we first started working with them. She got just as excited as we did on launch days and would often email me unprompted about how she was glad people were leaving such positive comments and reviews. She read your feedback when no one ever asked her to do that or even expected it of her. She did it because she really, really cared.

Even though she was miles away and we never met in person, she was like a coworker to me and the loss of her is like losing someone on our team.

The Maya Kern team, as a whole, has been dealing with a lot lately. I personally just moved (which took far longer than we expected) and Maya and Devin are gearing up to move back to Minneapolis pretty soon. With the loss of our merchandizer, it has taken the wind out of my sails a little bit. I was trying to push through, even though I am exhausted, and carry out the photo shoot for our new products this weekend, but it has become clear that my body just can’t handle it. My arthritis has finally told me to stop moving, so unfortunately, we are going to have to reschedule the shoot for later on.

We are doing everything we can to make sure our next product drop on the 21st still happens. But as of right now, due to this sudden loss, the garments haven’t even shipped from the factory yet and I am not optimistic that they will clear customs and get checked into the fulfillment center in time for the launch. This means the drop is likely going to be pushed back to December 5th and instead of a full photo shoot, we will probably have to settle for taking quick photos of everyone at home, and likely with our phones. 

We work really hard to deliver not just garments we believe in, but also pictures of said garments on bodies that our customers can relate to, and unfortunately I just do not think that is possible this time. As always, we really appreciate your patience and understanding during what has been a very difficult time for us.

Ash

Chief Operations Officer

[naamahdarling]

I'm probably going to piss some people off with this, but.

The use of AI and machine learning for harmful purposes is absolutely unacceptable.

But that isn't an innate part of what it does.

Apps or sites using AI to generate playlists or reading lists or a list of recipes based on a prompt you enter: absolutely fantastic, super helpful, so many new things to enjoy, takes jobs from no-one.

Apps or sites that use a biased algorithm (which is AI) which is not controllable by users or able to be turned off by them, to push some content and suppress others to maximize engagement and create compulsive behavior in users: unethical, bad, capitalism issue, human issue.

People employing genAI to create images for personal, non-profit use and amusement who would not have paid someone for the same service: neutral, (potential copyright and ethics issue if used for profit, which would be a human issue).

People incorporating genAI as part of their artistic process, where the medium of genAI is itself is a deliberate part of the artist's technique: valid, interesting.

Companies employing genAI to do the work of a graphic designer, and websites using genAI to replace the cost of stock photos: bad, shitty, no, capitalist and ethical human issue.

People attacking small artists who use it with death threats and unbelievable vitriol: bad, don't do that.

AI used for spell check and grammar assistance: really great.

AI employed by eBay sellers to cut down on the time it takes to make listings: good, very helpful, but might be a bad idea as it does make mistakes and that can cost them money, which would be a technical issue.

AI used to generate fake product photos: deceptive, lazy, bad, human ethical issue.

AI used to identify plagiarism: neutral; could be really helpful but the parameters are defined by unrealistic standards and not interrogated by those who employ it. Human ethical issue.

AI used to analyze data and draw up complex models allowing detection of things like cancer cells: good; humans doing this work take much longer, this gives results much faster and allows faster intervention, saving lives.

AI used to audit medical or criminal records and gatekeep coverage or profile people: straight-up evil. Societal issue, human ethical issue.

AI used to organize and classify your photos so you don't have to spend all that time doing it: helpful, good.

AI used to profile people or surveil people: bad and wrong. Societal issue, human issue, ethical issue.

I'm not going to cover the astonishingly bad misinformation that has been thrown out there about genAI, or break down thought distortions, or go into the dark side of copyright law, or dive into exactly how it uses the data it is fed to produce a result, or explain how it does have many valid uses in the arts if you have any imagination and curiosity, and I'm not holding anyone's hand and trying to walk them out of all the ableism and regurgitated capitalist arguments and the glorification of labor and suffering.

I just want to point out: you use machine learning (AI) all the time, you benefit from it all the time. You could probably identify many more examples that you use every day. Knee-jerk panicked hate reflects ignorance, not sound principles.

You don't have beef with AI, you have beef with human beings, how they train it, and how they use it. You have beef with capitalism and thoughtlessness. And so do I. I will ruthlessly mock or decry misuse or bad use of it. But there is literally nothing inherently bad in the technology.

I am aware of and hate its misuse just as much as you do. Possibly more, considering that I am aware of some pretty heinous ways it's being used that a lot of people are not. (APPRISS, which is with zero competition for the title the most evil use of machine learning I have ever seen, and which is probably being used on you right now.)

You need to stop and actually think about why people do bad things with it instead of falling for the red herring and going after the technology (as well as the weakest human target you can find) every time you see those two letters together.

You cannot protect yourself and other people against its misuse if you cannot separate that misuse against its neutral or helpful uses, or if you cannot even identify what AI and machine learning are.

[imtherain]

He Brings Me Flowers: (Sex Pollen/Logan) Part Two

Guess who finished this finally??? IT TWAS ME

Included is a lot of smut, some angst because of who I am as a person, after care, and snacks. Mostly it's smut though.

Lowkey could be in honor Deadpool and Wolverine being out on Disney+ today, but that's a coincidence I swear.

Hope you enjoy!

Part One

[Logan List]

[Masterlist]

Tagging all these lovely people who lowkey helped make this happen simply by telling me they wanted more

@katsukis1wife

@gothamnighthawk

@emotrash1

@squishyfruitloop

@angeiulst

@unitedbyfreak

@chubbyhedgehog

@jessie-baby-96

Anywho, at 9433 words (I am not sorry)

My body was on fire.

I tried to breathe through it, to keep whatever madness that wanted to consume me away. I couldn’t let it consume me. I shuffled in my seat, trying to put out the flames but it mostly just shifted them around.

I had to get us home.

By the time I landed the jet at the mansion, I figured I must have lost two to three years off my life from exertion alone. Holding even one person for so long took a toll on me, and since I refused to practice the skill, holding all five of them was basically me deciding to run a marathon when I hadn’t run so much as a mile in years.

Not to mention the angry gnawing that had picked up in my center that demanded I let Logan do what he had been aiming to do to me. At some point during the flight, he had shifted in my hold, trying to break free again. But all he managed to do was flop over and land with his face on my boot.

Luckily, he stopped fighting once he was using my foot as a pillow, perhaps the contact contented him for now. Unluckily, I could feel the warmth of him against me, even through leather, and the gnawing just grew sharper and sharper until I was softly moaning to myself, pretending that rubbing myself on the seat did anything to ease the fire.

But I was in no state to care by the time the supplemental staff came to get everyone. I watched them from my seat as three people in full hazmat came onto the jet to assess the situation.

“You good, Miss Y/N?” This was Hank’s voice but I couldn’t tell where it came from.

“Golden,” I managed, my eyes squeezed shut. “Just please, get these fruitcakes unloaded so I can unfreeze them,” I sounded a little drunk and I heard Hank’s chuckle.

“You did good getting everyone home,” I could hear the smile in his voice and had it been any other situation I would have preened at the proudness he was showing. But I was trying really hard not to shove my hand down my pants and all I really wanted was to get to my room and sort myself out. After all… surely, being away from the others, away from Logan, would be enough.

“Keep everyone separated for now,” Someone commanded. Logan groaned from at my feet and I knew it was only a matter of time before he broke free of my grasp. I wasn’t sure what he’d do, but I was pretty sure no one would want to witness all that… and  knew I wouldn’t be able to fight him off for long in my current state.

I almost wondered why I’d even want to.

“We’ve got Scott and Jean secured,” I heard someone shout loud enough for me to hear. I let those two slip from my hold. It felt like pulling splinters out, a moment more of discomfort, and then a relief.

“Storm and Rouge are good,” A different voice called next. I let them go and I heard Rouge shout something profane which made me smile absently. She was apparently extra feisty when she was feeling some type of way.

Two hazmat suits came and pulled Logan away from me and I choked myself on the whine that tried to escape me at the loss. A third hazmat suit sat in the copilot's chair and I was dully aware that it was Hank.

“I did some research on Malachi Mitchelle.” His voice was soothing, in a way, to my foggy brain as his voice did not stoke the fire. I nodded. “I think I know what happened to all of you to make you so… affectionate.” 

Somewhere outside the jet a roar sounded as Logan finally got free of my powers. There was a scuffle and his voice quieted down. Even the sound of him made my thighs tense.

“Not me, I’m just sleepy,” I lied. I just needed to get away, as far away from Logan, as I could. Because I was weak and getting weaker by the second, if he came asking, I’d likely give in this time. 

And then I’d never be able to face him again.

“Good, that’s good.” Hank said. “But the others then, based on the readings we downloaded from the jet and what I was able to find on Malachi…” He coughed once, uncomfortable. “Well, let's just say, Malachi was known for making people feel good and he ended up making something that went a little too far. I’m sure that’s what they got into,” 

“How do they fix it?” I asked. My eyes were blurry and I felt kinda like my uterus was going to melt down my legs at any second. I just wanted to crawl into bed and wait it out.

“The only way out is through I’m afraid,” Hank laughed nervously.

“Oh,” I managed. Maybe I’d have to be more active in my ‘waiting it out’ plan, but whatever. As long as I got away from Logan. As long as I didn’t make him hate me.

“Are you sure you’re ok, though? You weren’t exposed?” Hank asked again. I waved him off. 

“I just beat my record time for freezing someone by a couple of minutes,” I managed a smirk as pain shot up my spine. “And I did it times five. I just need a really, really, really long nap.” Hank chuckled at my tone but nodded his head.

“Alright, you still need to be decontaminated.” He stood. “And I’ll have someone come check on you, just in case,” 

“Ok,” I mumbled. But I was not going to stick around to find out what they wanted to check. I could already feel myself straining to hear Logan’s voice, but so far all I could hear was machinery and the hazmat shower.

Someone came to get me, but it took all of my brainpower to focus on being normal. I grumbled through the decontamination spray, which was dry and unpleasant like getting sand blasted.

“Wait here,” The hazmat suit that had decontaminated me said. I didn’t recognize this voice, not that I tried hard to while I was sitting on the edge of a chair, trying really hard to not call out for Logan. I knew he was in the medbay somewhere, we all were. I also knew that if I called his name he would come running and he’d be able to ease the burning ache in my core.

But I didn’t want that. 

I didn’t want him to want me just because of some stupid sex pollen. I knew Hank said the only way out was through, and from the bits I’d understood from the conversation around me, that meant you had to bang whomever it was that your body craved. Which was why I hadn’t felt the urge to jump any of the staff that were helping. 

And also why I could hear Jean and Scott going at it from across the medbay, which was as awkward as it was unhelpful to the heat in my blood.

Before the hazmat suit that had helped me returned, I decided it would be best for me to just leave. Go somewhere where I couldn’t hear the sounds of Rouge and Ororo getting off too. The whole medbay sounded like a porn set and I needed to get out of it before I made a move I couldn’t take back.

I figured if I could get to my room, I could get my own rocks off enough times to get rid of this feeling. I had toys, I had batteries, I had my hands. It’d be fine. And then Logan and I could still be friends when this was all finally over.

Walking turned out to be a specific kind of torture. 

Everything hurt. While it had kind of felt like period cramps at first, the pain had shifted and spread out. It was like my skin was trying to eat itself, like my bones were made out of razor blades. I stumbled along the hall and into the elevator to go up to where the adult dorms were.

I didn’t recall the dorms being so far away.

I leaned on the wall, thankful that the metal elevator wall was at least cool against my burning skin. Maybe I’d need to take a cold shower too. But the thought of even that made me whimper in displeasure. I knew what my body wanted, what I probably needed, and yet I so desperately denied it. 

I just needed to get to my room. To cool off. To calm down. To hold on just a little bit tighter. 

My suit was uncomfortable on my skin, I could feel the seams as though they were also razors like my bones. I was beginning to wonder if I’d made the right decision. It wouldn’t be the first time my pride or whatever, got in the way of feeling better.

The hallway seemed longer than normal as I shuffled my way to my room. It wasn’t very late in the day, and most people that lived in this wing were elsewhere and preoccupied, so I wasn’t worried about anyone hearing my moaning as I made my way past each door. 

Only three more doors until mine, but that felt like so far to go. Too far maybe. Maybe I could curl up out here in the hall and let the pain take me.

Every step shot lightning through my limbs that ricocheted around in my rib cage. My core felt like it had been filled with angry bees. I paused long enough to try to squeeze my legs together, to get some friction, hoping it would help somehow. But it did nothing. I tried to use my hand over my suit but the only thing that did was make my knees wobble and the bees inside me sting me harder. It wasn’t the correct hand, nor nearly enough touch. 

I tried to gather my strength by leaning against the wall, but it didn’t seem to help me other than to keep me from falling on the floor.

“Y/N!” Logan’s voice was like fresh rain on a forest fire. 

I didn’t have the energy to look behind me to see him coming. I did, however, feel those frustrated and angry tears that had plagued me since being on the jet finally break free. I knew I wouldn’t be able to push him away anymore and I hated that I was so weak. 

“God, baby, look at me,” He sounded so worried for me. I wished it could mean something.

“Hurts,” Was all I was able to mumble at him. I felt his hands on my arms, turning me so my back was against the wall. So that he could look at my face. My blood seemed to hum at his nearness. Like a magnet reaching for metal.

“Hank said you didn’t get hit with the pollen,” Logan’s eyes were still hazy, but he was at least restraining himself now. “Seems you lied to him sweetheart,” His fingers brushed my cheeks and I whined as if his touch hurt.

“You…?” I tried to ask why he was handling this better than before but got cut off by a wave of pain that threatened to knock me to the floor.

“Come on,” Logan said instead. I shook my head at him and tried to pull myself off the wall, to walk away from him. But I couldn’t. I had always prided myself on being strong, a sick sort of triumph at my ability to deny myself anything I wanted and didn’t think I deserved. But with this? 

I hated how all I wanted to do was bury my face in his chest or maybe just swallow him whole.

Logan got an arm around my waist to help me stand and I felt like I was drowning in his nearness. 

I wanted to get away from him. 

I wanted to pull him closer.

When I stumbled along with him, he cursed at my slowness. He paused long enough to make a decision. His hand on my chin made me look at him, but I struggled to focus on his face when I saw him lick his dry lips. I wanted him to lick me like that. Gently, softly, thoroughly.

“Stay with me a little longer, sweetheart, just gotta get to your room or I’ll have to fuck you out here in the hall,” Logan’s voice tried to remain light, as if it were a joke of some kind. But we both knew he would do exactly that if we didn’t get behind a door.

I could only whine, low in my throat, because the pain was blooming behind my eyes like solar flares. I wondered if it would kill me if left unchecked. I wondered if that would be better than giving in.

But when Logan’s lips pressed against my sweaty forehead, I leaned into him. Another kiss on my temple drew my focus away from the burning hum in my blood. The third one landed on my jaw and I turned, trying to catch his mouth without thinking. 

I knew if he touched me just a little more, the pain would ebb. I knew it. I didn’t want to give in, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I got to taste him… just once. Maybe he’d be able to forgive me for just one kiss.

I heard him chuckle as I chased more contact. He was breathing hard, wanting more too.

He swung me up into his strong arms, bridal style, and I pressed my face into his neck while he carried me the last several feet to my room. If my brain hadn’t been so hazy, I would have marveled at how easily he’d lifted me, how easily he could carry me.

As soon as my door closed behind us, Logan set me back on the ground and buried his face in my neck, my back pressed against the wood. I had my arms around his shoulders still, fingers buried in his hair while he mouthed his way up to my ear.

“Say you want this, sweetheart,” Logan purred. I had one leg up around his hip, giving him room to press himself into me between open mouth kisses on my skin. My hips rolled into him of their own accord.

 I felt like I couldn’t bring enough air into my lungs, but somehow, I managed to speak.

“No,” My voice was torn, and my face wet. It felt like someone else had pulled the word from my chest, someone so far away from the heat of my room. 

I didn’t register the way his face contorted in confusion.

“Sweetheart,” It was his turn to whine. Annoyed at the thought I’d deny him. I knew the pollen was surely in his system still, making him want me as badly as I wanted him. 

Which was the only reason I still tried to resist.

“Didn’t want…” I panted, too many sensations running through me. “Not like this,” My arms made no move to push him away from me but my body betrayed my lungs as my leg shifted, trying to pull him closer. With him close like this, at least the ache wasn’t getting any worse.

“Like how then?” Logan asked. His hips bucked up into me and I felt the ache in waves as his body teased mine with the promise of release. 

Oh god, release.

I could only shake my head as I cried because I wanted things to be different. I wanted this to matter, wanted it to mean he liked me. But it was nothing other than a need we hadn’t asked for because of a mission that went weird, and that broke my heart.

Logan cursed to himself, kissing at the tears on my cheek.

“It’s ok pretty girl, it doesn’t have to mean anything, just… just let me help you, alright?” His voice betrayed an ache I didn’t expect in him. The kind of ache you couldn’t mask and you couldn’t fabricate.

“No, no… I want it to mean something… I don’t want - ahh - a pity fuck,” I said into his shoulder as my body tried to get more from him. I gasped each time his body bumped into mine while he held me against the door. Just being near him like this seemed to clear my head some though and I knew I should let my pride go. 

That we both needed this. 

That the only way out was through.

“It’s not pity,” Logan growled against my throat, something angry, something hurting. 

I couldn’t respond as I felt a new wave of pain and wanting crash through me, pulling a low whimper from my chest. What we were doing simply wasn’t enough. We were knocking at the door maybe, but we needed to step into the home beyond the threshold.

We couldn’t get out if we didn’t go through.

“I need you to tell me you want this,” Logan groaned, his mouth against my jaw. Begging, hardly restrained. A gentleman even when dosed with sex pollen. 

My chest ached for him.

“Won’t you hate me tomorrow?” I squeezed my eyes shut as he adjusted his grip on me, his hand was so warm on my thigh as he helped balance me.

“I could never hate you, sweet girl,” He said against my cheek, kissing a few more tears from my fevered skin. 

I nodded finally. 

I felt him grin against my cheek before he added, “I need to hear you say it, baby,” I could hear the same smile in his voice.

“I want… Want you,” It somehow still felt like a betrayal to admit it and as the moment drew on for a heartbeat too long, I thought for sure that he had realized he didn’t want me. That this had all been some elaborate ruse. My eyes were squeezed so tightly shut that I missed the way his face broke open into a pure joy smile.

I felt more tears in my eyes at what I thought was rejection. 

“I need you,” I pressed again, sure that if he didn’t speak, didn’t keep touching me, didn’t fuck me, I was going to die. I opened my eyes and saw his smile and my chest thawed at the happiness he showed me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him smile like that before.

Logan’s hands squeezed my hips, pulling me tight against him again so that I could feel how hard his cock was straining in his suit.

“I need you too, sweetheart,” I felt his smile against my neck before he finally, finally, covered my mouth with his.

It was like wind after rain.

Something soft that whispers about tomorrows that are brighter and hurt less.

His mouth did not cool my blood completely, but suddenly, the pain was receding. I twisted my hands in his hair, holding him to me, daring him to try to pull away. But Logan’s hands were making their way into my suit, pulling zippers and searching for skin. 

He had no plans to leave me. Thank god.

“You taste so good,” He purred, pulling away to look at my face. I was sure I looked a mess, but I had no willpower left to be embarrassed about it. His eyes were glittering with mirth and heat and something my brain wanted to believe in.

“You do too,” I panted. I didn’t remember him getting the top half of my suit off, but he was tugging the rest down my hips. When did my feet end up back on the floor?

I was wearing an undershirt and a pair of close fitting shorts under the leather suit and Logan growled at the next set of barriers.

“Too many layers,” He grumbled. I pulled him back to where I could kiss him and he seemed happy enough to lick his way into my mouth while his hand stumbled blindly along my stomach in search of the waistband of my shorts.

I mewled when his fingers brushed the skin of my hip, having found their way inside. Logan chuckled against my mouth as he glanced down to make sure he was where he thought he was.

“Bed,” I commanded, brain short circuiting at the mere thought of what was to come. His hands, one still in my shorts, moved to scoop me off my feet. Both of those wide, warm palms of his squeezing at my ass as he pulled my legs around his hips. I moaned again, surprised at the heat of him pressed into my ache, and also turned on by the very fact he could lift me so effortlessly.

“Wanted to do this for so long,” Logan murmured into my throat.

“Yeah?” Curiosity more than disbelief for once.

“Yeah, pretty girl,” He was all but purring,  kissing any skin close enough to reach as he moved us deeper into my room, aiming for the bed, but not really looking.

“How long?” I wondered out loud. Surely it couldn’t be that long, but my brain was running at about 1% cognition so I didn’t bother thinking too hard about what I was asking.

“Since that time you subbed for my class,” He said without missing a single beat. He groaned at the memory. “You were wearing a dress with little flowers on it. It stopped right at your knees and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to get under that skirt,” He pulled me tighter against him, cursing at the sensation while I gasped against his shoulder.

I felt blood rush to my ears at his confession, as I hadn’t subbed for him in months, but I didn’t get to revel in it long because we’d finally made it to my bed. Logan and I toppled over onto the unmade mess I’d left my bed in that morning. 

“Fuck, I need you in my mouth,” Logan moved off of me so that he could kneel on the floor between my legs. “You going to let me taste you?” I nodded happily and he gave me a sharp-toothed grin that made me shiver. 

He easily pulled off my shorts and underwear and as soon as I was exposed to him I felt the ache rear its head again. Like hot coals dropped into my pelvis, everything was concentrated and too hot.

“Logan, please,” I whimpered. “Hurts again,” He wasted no more time and lunged headfirst into my open legs. I almost screamed at the sensation of his tongue moving up to my clit. It was too good, pure honey, and yet, entirely not enough. I reached down and got both of my hands into his hair, tugging him closer, unable to stop myself from chasing the high that was nowhere near close enough yet, by rubbing myself against his face.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind.

Logan moaned against me as he hoisted one of my legs over his shoulder. His free hand moved up my stomach, pushing its way under my shirt until he met with one final barrier, my sports bra. He grumbled vaguely, doubling down on his efforts with his mouth on my core. The lewd noise of him devouring me filled the room. If the pollen wasn’t clouding my head, I knew I’d be embarrassed, but he sounded like he was eating his favorite meal, slurping and sucking and making me see stars in a way I could only have dreamed about.

I felt his callouses slide under my bra, up through the valley between my breasts. He pulled the fabric up away from me and with a turn of his wrist, his claws sprang free just long enough to slice through the fabric that had dared hide my chest from him.

I gasped, startled, but also my core clenched at the show of force. Logan chuckled at my sharp intake of breath.

Logan made a noise low in his throat that was somewhere between a growl and whimper before he moved to explore this newly exposed skin. My fingers flexed against his scalp as his tongue brought first one, then the other, nipple to a hard peak.

My hands were beginning to shake as I clenched them tighter, pulling at his scalp. My body couldn’t focus on anything for very long, instead it simply demanded more, more, more.

“Fuck baby, you trying to pull my head off?” He teased, mindful not to leave me wanting while he spoke. He pressed his thumb against my clit and it shot electricity up my spine. I tried to shove his face back where I needed him, but he resisted me easily. I whined unhappily.

He pulled my hands from his hair so he could sit back on his heels. Logan seemed distracted as he ran his fingers through my sopping core again and I jumped and whined at each pass. He just continued to toy with me and I mewled.

“Need you,” I got out. I was breathing like I was worried I’d be pulled underwater at any second, trying to get as much air into my lungs as I could before the air got taken away.

“I know, baby, need you too,” He began to work his way out of his suit, but he kept getting distracted by my leg over his shoulder, my hands reaching for him, and his incessant urge to lean back in and run his tongue through my folds again and again and again.

As if just a single taste could sustain him.

The way we were sitting prevented me from seeing more than a flash of nudity before he settled again with his knees on the floor. Logan went back to his assault on my clit, but now he was teasing me with one of his thick fingers too. I groaned loudly when I saw his hips buck into the edge of my mattress. Simply knowing he was getting off with his tongue in me made the coil in my pelvis wind tight.

“More,” I demanded, feeling my orgasm finally building as he focused his tongue on my clit. “Logan, ‘m getting close,” 

“Good,” Logan responded with his mouth still against me. “Cum for me, wanna taste you, dreamed about what you taste like,” I felt his finger press slowly into me, his tongue still working my clit, and I bucked my hips up as he stopped to look at what he was doing.

“Logan,” I complained. I felt his finger slide in farther and we both cursed at the feeling of my walls gripping him. I had never been so desperate for friction in my entire life.

“So tight, so perfect for me,” Logan murmured. I just nodded as he worked another finger in with the first and I arched off the bed, chasing my high. I felt his free hand press on my hip to keep me here on earth with him as he pumped those two wicked fingers in and out, licking at my clit all the while, as though it were his favorite brand of lollipop.

I couldn’t warn him before I actually came.

My ears were ringing as my body burst into a million pinpricks of light. Nothing else mattered as the waves came up and broke over me, Logan pushing me far past where I would have stopped had I been alone. When my pieces resettled into a sentient being I got only a few moments of clarity before the pollen pulled me back under.

But in those few moments, I saw how much love and affection Logan had in his eyes as he looked up at me from between my legs. He looked like there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

“How was that?” Logan asked with the sort of grin that told me he knew exactly how that was.

“How are you not as horny as I am?” I complained. With a chuckle he kissed the inside of my thigh and then kissed his way up to my throat. My legs instinctively circled his hips, ready for more of him. I felt the heat of his length slide along my ass as I held him to me.

“Hank gave me something to take the edge off, some sedative,” Logan admitted dismissively. “Said he didn’t want me hurting anyone before we got ourselves sorted out,” 

“Oh,” I felt his teeth teasing the soft skin below my ear and I wiggled a bit because it tickled.

“But it’s wearing off fast,” he added cheerfully. “So I hope you’re ready for another,” 

“God yes. Please,” I whined at the thought of another orgasm. The first one had done wonders for the fire in my blood, but it wasn’t gone by any means. My bones were still feeling too sharp any time he stopped touching me.

Logan chuckled at my eagerness, but kissed me anyway. I happily parted my lips for him as he deepened the kiss. I felt his hand, warm on my hip, as he adjusted me so he could slot himself better between my thighs as our tongues took turns tasting each other. 

We both groaned when his dick slid past my clit the first time. Another pass and we became creatures of feeling and nothing more. 

Funny how you could dream of something and once you face the reality of it, it is so different. No matter what you think you know of the matter, you're so deliciously wrong. 

When Logan finally pressed his tip into me, I swear the world ended. Inch by inch he filled that emptiness inside of me, pushing out any lingering thoughts of him not wanting me. 

My fingers dug into his skin and he groaned lowly into my neck. 

“Fuck,” he growled. “Relax for me, baby,”

“Can’t,” I forced the word out as my whole body tensed up. It felt amazing to be filled, but the intrusion was also new to me. My muscles didn’t know what to do with him, but they loved the feel of him simply being there, a pleasant burn, a wondrous sort of ache.

“Breathe,” he panted. “I can't move with you squeezing me so tight,” 

“Sorry,” I had my eyes squeezed shut, trying to focus on letting my body adjust to him. He was bigger than anything I'd even used myself and I had no idea how he'd managed to fit. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” I felt Logan's hand rubbing circles on my hip. “Just take a deep breath for me, sweetheart,” the pet name made me whimper as the pollen demanded friction I wasn't getting. 

A shaky breath escaped me. Then another. 

“That's it, keep breathing for me, just like that,” Logan praised me and I felt my face flame in pleasure. I could feel my muscles finally loosen as he pressed gentle kisses along my throat. “I'm gonna move now,” he warned. I nodded quickly, eyes still shut. 

He pulled his hips back slowly, then pressed himself back in, this time somehow farther into me than he was before. My head felt hazy as he did it again. And again. And again. I could only let out little groans of pleasure as he split me apart.

“Look at me, baby,” Logan had a hand on my face again, holding me so he could look into my eyes when I finally opened them. “Doing ok?” 

I nodded almost sleepily, feeling like every brain cell I'd ever grown was knocked out of my skull. 

“I need you to say it, pretty girl,” he whispered, a gentle kiss to the side of my mouth. The pet name made me clench around him and he cursed to himself at the feeling. 

“I'm good,” I managed, wondering if I should pick a pet name for him too. But he seemed to be hogging them all. 

“That's my girl,” Logan kissed my mouth again and I could taste his grin. 

Pretty quickly it became clear his sedative had worn off completely. 

The wild look from the jet came back to his eyes as he hoisted my legs up higher in his waist, drilling down into me as I continued to whimper. It felt like he was trying to mold me to the shape of him, so that no other dick would ever fit me quite right. 

I wouldn't mind if that were true. 

When his thumb pressed on my clit again I bucked up into him, arching off the bed. Logan chuckled and rubbed tight circles on the nub until I was crying from the stimulation. 

“Need you to come for me again, sweetheart,” 

“Trying to,” I huffed out, blinded by how easy it seemed for him to lift my hips and reposition me. I knew I weighed more than he did, it came up as a joke once and never left me alone. But he didn't seem to notice or care. 

“Come on, baby, give it to me,” he begged, his other hand, the one not preoccupied with my clit, moved to tug at one of my nipples. My fingers dug into his biceps as the orgasm wound itself tight around my pelvis. I swear I could feel my nails digging in, past his skin, into the meat of him. “Fuck - give it to me,”

If he noticed how far my nails dug into him, he didn’t care, redoubling his efforts with the movement of his hips against mine.

“Almost, almost,” I chanted. “Almost,” it was just babbling now but he understood. 

It felt like heaven having something so large to clench around as the orgasm snapped through me. Doubly so when Logan's hips jerked a moment after my tremors ended and he filled me in a new way. 

For a brilliant moment, the pain was entirely gone.

We lay panting, trying to catch the breath we’d stolen from each other. Logan chuckled, but it turned into a growl as he pulled himself out of me. I couldn’t help but gasp at the loss of him.

“You got another one for me?” Logan asked, pressing open mouth kisses along my neck and chest. I closed my eyes, trying to sear this memory into my brain so I could look back at the feeling of it, not just the knowledge that it had happened.

“Yeah,” I finally sighed, a contented noise, as the warmth that lingered in me spread out again and began to smolder. The pollen really must take a while to get out of one’s system… but I found that I didn’t really mind. “Just tired is all,” 

“Poor baby,” Logan teased. “Come ‘ere,” He pulled me around so that he was behind me.

“Logan?” I questioned. 

“Just let me take care of you,” He purred, nibbling his way across my shoulder to my ear. “Or don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you,” I said, confused as to what trust had to do with it. I trusted him with most things, if not everything outside of this room. So why not with this thing, inside the room? 

“Good, now just relax and let me take care of my pretty girl,” he nipped at my earlobe as my face grew warm at his affections. This pollen was cruel if it made him so sweet only to take it away. But I didn’t find myself wanting to do anything I wouldn’t normally want to do, so maybe…just maybe…

“Ok,” I moved my head to catch his lips, and for a moment that distracted him from whatever it was he was originally planning when he got us situated on our sides, spooning, his front warm against my back.

When his calloused fingers bit into the meat of my thigh and lifted my leg up and and back to rest it over his, it quickly became clear what his plan was.

Logan shifted a bit so he could actually line himself up with me, but sank into me, deeper somehow, than ever before. I let out a pathetic noise at the sensation of being filled from this new angle. 

“Shh, shh,” Logan hushed me, placing softer kisses on my exposed and sweaty skin. “Just like before, sweetheart, breathe,” It took less attempts to fill my lungs this time, my muscles relaxing enough to let him push and pull himself through me with practiced ease.

“Feels good,” I told him, wanting him to know I was still enjoying this.

“Good, baby,” I felt him smile against my neck. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” When he rocked his hips forward, I couldn’t help but moan instead of respond.

Logan slid his other arm beneath me, the muscles fitting perfectly into the curve of my natural waist. I’d have thought my stomach would be off putting to him, but here he was fondling it, fondling me, while also sliding so deep inside of me that I was surprised I was still breathing.

Somehow, the next orgasm felt deeper, stronger, and snuck up on me too.

I came with a cry, the sound a mix of surprise and overwhelming pleasure.

“Gonna cum again,” Logan warned me. “With you milking me like that, can’t…can’t help myself,” he clarified as though I’d asked or he was embarrassed.

“Please,” I begged, eyes wet. When I moaned, the drag of his cock through my folds beginning to overstimulate me, Logan bucked his hips harder once.

“Make that noise again,” he begged in return. I was happy enough to oblige. The next moan fed into his low roar as he spilled himself for the second time into my waiting heat.

When he made to pull himself out again, I whined and scooted back against him.

“Don’t leave me yet,” I mumbled, half asleep suddenly.

“I’m not going anywhere, pretty girl,” His arms wrapped around me then and he held me close to his chest, still buried to the hilt inside me. I sighed happily.

“When you pulled out last time, the pain came back right away,” I told him.

“Oh, is that why?” He asked skeptically. 

“And it feels good,” I mumbled, my eyes closing. “Like you inside me,” But right as I was about to fall asleep, a shot went through me. Like static pains as your limbs wake up, having been asleep too long.

I felt my heart rate pick back up and my breathing came out harder.

“Back already?” Logan mused.

“I guess so,” I mourned the loss of rest, but was not opposed to more shenanigans with the man in my bed. I’d thought if he stayed inside me the pollen would wait.

“Lucky for you, I can go all night, pollen or not.” Logan bragged. I didn’t need to have my eyes open to know exactly how pleased with himself his smirk would be.

“Even with that sedative?” I smirked, but I whined as Logan pulled himself out of me. He just readjusted us so that I was flat on my back and he was looking down at me. He looked like heaven resting his weight on his elbows next to my head. He was so close, he smelled so good, and for at least this one moment, he was entirely mine.

“Sweetheart, that’s been out of my system for ages,” He leaned down to cover my mouth with his and I couldn’t help but reach up and tangle my fists in his hair. He chuckled against my tongue when I pulled to keep him close to me.

“Oh,” I said, rather shyly. 

“Why? Have I not been giving it to you hard enough?” Logan’s voice was mostly teasing, but he moved to take my bottom lip between his teeth. He tugged enough that it pulled a gasp from my chest, before he let go.

“You saying you can’t go harder?” I wasn’t sure why I pushed him, and I could blame the pollen… or I could blame all the romance novels I’d read where every sex scene was dotted with harder, harder, harder!

“Oh honey, be careful,” Logan warned, mirth and something fiery in his eyes…animalistic joy at the thought of harder.

“Oh honey,” I mocked him. “I dare you,” I used the same mocking tone and was not surprised when he growled and descended on me like a lion on a baby gazelle. 

All teeth and tongue and primal heat.

I lost count of the orgasms he pulled from me. All I knew was that I would never be able to face him if he decided that this meant nothing after all because I would never stop craving him. Having had a taste of Logan, even if it had been coerced by a silly plant, I knew I’d never crave anything else.

“You still with me, pretty?” Logan’s voice made me open my eyes again.

“Mhmm,” I murmured, reaching out to get my arms around his neck. I pulled him into me, just hugging him to me like he was the teddy bear I needed to fall asleep. He pressed his forehead into mine. I hummed, happy to have him in my arms. He pressed a few chaste kisses to my lips, gentle and sweet. 

“Do you need another?” Logan’s voice was slightly worried but I just shook my head. The feeling of the pollen clouding my head, clogging my veins… that feeling that my bones were too sharp… was entirely gone now. I was left to bask in the afterglow and tiredness of what we’d done.

“Do you, handsome?” The pet name tasted funny but I figured I could go one more round if he needed to. After all, it would only be fair.

“I was good two orgasms ago,” Logan admitted. I clicked my tongue, giving him a scandalized look.

“What?” I asked, sounding a bit like I thought he was lying.

“Yeah, the pollen was out of my head probably two ago,” He kissed the tip of my nose as I wrinkled it at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Didn’t want to cut the fun short,” Logan smirked. “Plus, you still smelled wrong,” 

“Oh thanks,” I rolled my eyes, feeling more like myself than I had in what feels like weeks.

“You smell much better without that sickly sweet pollen on you,” Logan assured me. He kissed the edge of my mouth, asking permission to kiss me properly. I moved to catch his lips and he purred against me. “You taste better without it too,” 

“Mmm,” I made a noise of agreement because the tiredness was back.

“I’m going to go get cleaned up, then I’ll be back to clean you up, ok sweetheart?” Logan asked, his knuckles running along my side. I nodded, feeling sleep coming for me. The last thing I heard was Logan chuckle as he moved across the room to my ensuite.

I was face down, when Logan returned. Most of my bedding had been tossed aside at one point or another, the pillows were gone and all that remained were the sheets. The fitted sheet had popped off one corner and the other sheet was only enough to cover my nudity, but it was cold and damp in far too many spots to be any sort of comfortable.

“How ya feeling, love?” Logan asked, crouching down next to where my head was. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but it was clear he’d showered since I’d seen him last. I was the wrong way round on my bed, arms curled into my naked chest because I was cold.

“Sticky… sore… cold,” I mumbled. “And tired, but I really want a shower,” 

“Come on,” He moved to help me up and I grumbled the entire time. Logan just chuckled as he helped me into the bathroom. “Want help showering?”

“No, I’m ok,” I told him. Something about how gently he was speaking kept me from making any snide comments that may have normally slipped free. I wondered if he was being nice because he was a gentleman, or if it was because he genuinely cared. I wondered if it could maybe be a bit of both.

He reached to start the shower anyway.

“Do you want me to be here when you get out?” Logan’s voice almost hid his fear of rejection.

“Do you want to be?” I countered him, unsure if he should want to remain in my space after… all that.

“Of course,” He turned to place a gentle kiss on my forehead and I leaned into him.

“Please be here when I get out,” I said, catching his eye. He nodded as I got into the waiting warm water.

As I stood in the shower, my brain finally clear, I couldn’t help but wonder what came next. 

Would Logan want to date me after all this? Would he want to just fuck? Would he want anything to do with me at all? 

Would he remember saying he wanted me?

Instead of spiraling, I forced myself to focus on washing the sweat off my skin. I found several spots marked with Logan’s teeth, all of which were bruised or bruising. I felt my face get the sort of warm that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water running down my back.

I washed my hair, I washed my skin. I washed the evidence of fucking from between my legs. Something in me mourned the loss, if only because with the mess gone, there was less evidence that, even for a moment, he’d wanted me like that.

Eventually, I turned the shower off and wrapped myself in my towel, which was damp since someone had already used it.

“Logan!” I grumbled loudly. “You got my towel all wet!” It didn’t really matter but I was hoping he’d still be there for me to be grumpy with and it was easier than asking if he was there.

Logan appeared in the bathroom doorway, shirtless still, and wearing a pair of my sweatpants that were comically loose around his hips, even though he had the strings pulled tight.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” He moved away for a moment and came back with my spare towel. “I found this one while I looked for sheets,” 

“Sheets?” I took the towel from him and turned around as though there was any need for modesty. I put the new towel around my shoulders before letting the damp one fall, then readjusted so the fresh towel was around me properly.

“I figured while you got cleaned up, I’d work on the mess we made of your bed,” Logan’s smirk was cheeky and proud. It made my skin flame.

“Oh, well thank you for that,” I said. I went through the motions of my normal after shower routine. Brushing my hair, lotioning my face, putting product in my hair… distinctly aware that Logan was watching me from his spot leaning against the doorframe. 

I was brushing my teeth when Logan spoke again.

“I think we should talk about it,” He said with that tone he used on students when they were clearly lying to him. I wondered why he used that tone now, as I wasn’t saying anything. How could I be lying?

“What about it?” I asked, finishing up. I just needed to dry the rest of me and put some pjs on. I paused when I turned and Logan was still blocking the doorway with his shirtless chest.

“Are you good? I didn’t hurt you… did I?” Something vulnerable made its way into his eyes before he could stop it.

“I mean, you bit me in the ass, that stings a little bit,” I tried to joke. When he didn’t laugh, I shrugged. “You didn’t hurt me, but… It was a lot, I won’t lie.”

“It was a lot for me too.” He agreed. “I’d been hoping to ask you out before sleeping with you, but it seems we didn’t get much of a choice,” I choked on my own throat at his confession.

“You wanted to ask me out?” I fumbled with that idea, even after everything. No one asked me out, especially not when they meant to actually follow through. Logan nodded.

“I’d love to take you out sometimes, if you want,” He watched me with those hazel eyes and I felt a strange mix of fear and warmth at the way his face softened. “But we can talk about that later too,” 

“I’d never had sex before,” I blurted out suddenly. Logan froze. “It’s fine, and I didn’t really think it mattered to me, but… but it feels like I should say something,” 

“Well fuck,” He cursed. “That’s not how I would have envisioned it,” 

“Can’t say I ever really envisioned it at all,” I told him, trying to make it sound like a joke. 

His brow furrowed.

“Why not?”

“People never exactly lined up to take me out or sleep with me, and I made my peace with that,” I stepped closer to him and he watched until I shooed him from the door. “Let me get some undies on,” 

“I wouldn’t mind if you left them off,” Logan smirked, enjoying the way my skin darkened with a blush.

“Oh shush,” I shot over my shoulder at him while I dug out some underwear and my pjs. I picked the prettiest underwear I had, which honestly were still pretty much granny panties, but they were a cute color and design at least. And for pjs, I picked something simple, a tank and shorts.

“Are you avoiding looking at me, pretty girl?” Logan hummed from close behind me. I shivered at his sordid tone. 

“It’s not my fault you’ve decided to stay half naked and gorgeous,” I grumbled, pulling on my clothes. I felt somewhat better with clothes on, but also, it felt weird after being naked for so long.

“Can’t promise to change either of those things anytime soon,” When he pressed a small kiss to my shoulder, I jumped. “Sorry,” he purred, no longer advancing. 

“I can’t believe you still want to touch me after all that,” I said softly. There was no anger in it. No malice. Just surprise.

“Sweetheart, I’d fuck you again right now if you asked me to,” The heat of his words tore through me like a stray bullet.

“I don’t think I could handle that just now,” I forced a smile thinking about how raw I felt inside and out. “Thanks though,” 

“This ok?” Logan asked, taking my hand and turning me around. He set my palm against his sternum and his hands found new purchase, one on my hip, the other on my cheek. I nodded against his palm. “I want to make sure you’re really ok,” 

“I don’t know what you expect me to say,” I felt my throat closing on unexpected tears. I frowned at myself. “Why do I want to cry?” 

“Go ahead and cry, baby,” Logan said softly in return. “If that’s what you need,” 

“But I’m not sad,” I mumbled as tears, hot and fat, rolled down my cheeks. “What the heck,” This was more to myself and the tears streaming down my face. I tried to wipe them with my bare hand and it really only smeared them along my cheeks. Logan kissed my forehead and led me to my bed.

“It’s a lot, and new, and not exactly normal.” Logan assured me.

“What, your first time wasn’t with your crush dosed up on sex pollen?” I joked through the tears. I pulled a handful of tissues from the box that miraculously had remained unscathed on my nightstand and wiped my face with a pair of them. My lamp was in an entirely different spot. I guessed we’d knocked it over and Logan had righted it when he remade the bed.

“The first time with my crush might have been like that,” He teased back and I blushed.

“You saying you have a crush on me?” 

“Maybe,” His smirk was boyish and if I didn’t know any better, I thought maybe his cheeks were a little bit pinker than they were before.

I crawled into the bed and watched Logan stand there in my sweatpants. 

“Will you join me?” I asked carefully. I wiped at my face again and was happy to find that the tears were leaving as fast as they had come.

“Was just thinking about sneaking down to the kitchen,” Logan gave me a smile. “Unless you’ve got something else tasty hiding in here somewhere,” A sudden grumble came from my stomach as I realized I was starving. 

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘something else’ tasty, but I’ve got a stash of snacks,” I stood again and went to my closet, kneeling down to pull out one of those sort of flimsy storage ottomans you get at big box stores. Logan followed me and chuckled.

“I mean other than you, sweetheart,” He shook his head when I scoffed. “You know, you are terribly hard to flirt with,” 

“Do you want my snacks or to tease me?” I complained, leaning back so he could see my stash. I had a little bit of a lot of things in the ottoman. Everything from beef jerky and granola bars, to poptarts, to candy of all kinds.

Logan let out a low whistle. 

“I wondered how you always seemed to have the good snacks,” 

“Well Scott steals anything in the kitchen. That man is a menace to poptarts. Plus Rouge specifically takes any candy I’ve ever left in there, and I have no proof, but I’m pretty sure Ororo steals all the salty snacks, so I had to improvise if I wanted anything to be where I left it.” I sat crossed legged and pulled out a granola bar, opening it right there and taking a bite. “God, I don’t think I’ve been this hungry in my life.” 

“It’s probably a side effect of the pollen… takes a lot out of you,” Logan joined me on the floor, our legs touching while we faced the ottoman and the bottom half of my clothes over it. Logan grabbed a pack of beef jerky and I nodded when he held it up to ask if he could eat it.

I opened a pack of pop tarts next while Logan watched me break it into pieces and pop them into my mouth one by one. 

“What?” I chuckled as he absently chewed on his snack while staring at me with such adoration in his eyes it made my stomach flip. Which was surprisingly easy to handle on my current diet of poptarts and sugar.

“You’re pretty,” He told me and looked away only long enough to fish another chunk of jerky out of his bag. The bit he pulled out was one of the bigger ones and he held it out to me. “Pretty girls need protein too,” 

“You’re pretty,” I snorted, pretending it was an insult. But I took the jerky from him anyway and tore it in half with my teeth. I caught Logan swallow hard at the sight and my cheeks grew warm yet again. 

“I mean it, you know,” He added. “I’ve been around for a long time and you’re my favorite thing to look at,” I smiled at that. It was so much better feeling than the normal things he said that I didn’t believe. 

“You’re my favorite thing to look at too,” I told him, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. He moved to press his mouth into mine, a chaste kiss around sugared and salted lips. I chuckled, giddy, when he pulled away. Maybe I could believe him.

In the quiet darkness of my closet, watching him sift through my snack ottoman, it felt like it would be so easy to believe him. To believe that he might love me.

“I love you,” I told him suddenly. He paused with his own pack of pop tarts in his hand.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Logan’s grin was soft and so full of love. For once I didn’t look away because I figured if I witnessed it enough I would believe it. I smiled as I watched him tear into his next snack. Maybe I should stop fighting my feelings and just believe him.

It felt so easy to just give into it.

So, I think I will.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part One

[Logan List]

[Masterlist]

[katerinadeannika]

Notes after watching the full Behind the Scenes of Agatha All Along posted on Nov 13th 2024:

There was no way they could have written an ending for Agatha that did not involve death.

I have been saying this to all the naysayers from the get-go, to all the people making posts about being done or fed up or angry about the ending, or how it makes no sense, or how they should have could have done something different and been fine story wise. The behind the scenes confirmed my point.

The main through line for the entire show was the theme of Death; of Agatha never being able to escape it. Where she both loves and hates death and Death, the concept and the woman. Where she's been running from Death for centuries, but Death came for her son and was always coming for her the second she slowed down.

Every completed trial meant someone would die. Billy created the road based off the rumors and witch lore. And the only rumors out in the witch world were that someone knew someone else's aunt/relative/friend who had undertaken the road and never returned. In reality, that was Agatha's doing. But to Billy, it meant that somehow, the Road took its toll on them. And when the coven traveled it, the Road exacted the same price that Billy expected it to. Death or near death at every trial.

The first trial killed Sharon. The second gave Alice her power back and then Billy almost died (and probably would have if Agatha hadn't pleaded with Rio on his behalf, if the coven hadn't worked together, and if Billy hadn't made the Road with his own powers. Some interesting combo of the all the above). The third trial killed Alice who was trying to save Agatha. And the fourth trial killed Lilia and the Salem Seven.

Jac said she intentionally wrote it where Death was a very real thing that everyone in the show had to come to terms with.

And for Jen Kale, her gift was already dead, and she was supposed to resurrect it and take her own power back. She escaped because after Agatha's trial, the fifth one, someone DID die.

And this time it was Agatha.

Agatha had avoided it every other time by either being saved, or having the rest of the coven as fodder for death.

But in the end, when she could have left once again, she must decide who has to pay the final price for her invention of the Road. The Road that she has used to kill and lure countless witches to their doom over the past few centuries.

She can save the boy she has come to love and mentor after the loss of her son. Or, she can leave once again. And so she makes the final moment of self sacrifice, and chooses the final victim of the Road: Herself

She has been running from Death for centuries.

For Agatha's story to have a thematic ending that wasn't cheap or manufactured, she had to stay true to that through-line. That's how writing works. You find your themes. You write about and explore them. And you have a final consequence that determines if it's a positive arc or a negative arc for your main character.

They chose for Agatha to have a positive arc. A moment of final growth. To end the show on her finally making the right decision, even at the cost of the life she's sustained through countless centuries and via countless deaths.

There was no way the show could have ended any other way.

PS: There is no excuse to hate on it. At all.

It doesn't meet any of the criteria for the 'Bury your gays' trope. It doesn't even end Agatha’s story. But it does provide expertly written, well thought out, thematically poignant endings for all the characters in a way that satisfies their personal journey—throughout the show and the centuries.

And I am so glad they made it, and that it ended how it did. I wouldn’t want it any other way. As a writer. As an editor. As a viewer. And as a lesbian.

Agatha All Along is a masterpiece in TV writing. And I can’t wait for more.

PSS: Watch the Behind the Scenes on youtube that Marvel just posted. It’s super good and includes all sorts of info to help with fic writing and just general understanding of the writing and show creation. Also lots of Kathryn Hahn and Aubrey Plaza in interviews!

TLDR: Quit complaining and griping about the ending. It was written beautifully. The reason you got so invested is because of all the heavy death elements throughout that made things mean something. Embrace it. Or find media where you were the target audience. Cause if you couldn’t handle something well written that ends like this, you weren’t the target audience. And that’s okay. But move on before you keep griping and causing issues with the community and the cast.

[reasonreblogs]

Same for both. The thing with explaining the reasons with an apology for me is part of the “I recognize how this action was wrong and how I ended up doing this thing that hurt you. I will be making an effort to stop this behavior. I hope you feel okay calling me out on it going forward. I want to assure you that I am aware of what I did, why I did it, that I am going to be working on it, that this hurt you, and that I’m sorry I did this.”

To me the reasons and why it happened shows that they understand and how likely they are to keep doing the same things or if thy ran it, that kind of thing. I’ve had someone who was basically overdosing on Xanax day spent the most horrible shit to me, hitting every insecurity I had about our friendship and after the fact *not* apologize and just said something like “I didn’t reply mean it, I just said crazy shit because I was prescribed a higher dose of Xanax than a person should be.”

Like… okay, I get that… and… it would mean something if you said “I’m sorry, I know it hurt you and I said a lot of things I knew would hurt most. I didn’t know I was prescribed higher dose than I should’ve been until recently and it really fucked with my head in a way that I wasn’t myself.” Instead, I wasn’t sure if she actually meant what she said looking back or if she’d do it again only without her mind being fucked up.

She gave the reason without the apology which made it an excuse and a “so you can’t be upset with anything I said” when she could scroll back and see exactly the things she said to me even if she didn’t quite remember. However, with an apology, I would be able to believe she didn’t mean it and was in a state of mind where she was actively looking to be as hurtful as possible rather than actually believing hat she said. It’s kind of like how some people go turn out to be suicidal try to make everyone around them hate them before going through with it under the notion it’d “hurt less” when it happens. I think of one or two popular youtubers who did exactly that, posting outrageous bigoted shit before disappearing and after hearing they killed themselves, it clicked that’s what they were doing.

As for the telling a story for how thy relate (as I did above actually lol) it’s like… “listen here’s a thing I went through… to me it sounds like what you’re going through, so I hope what I did to get through it helps or if talking to someone who might understand better makes you feel okay talking about this.”

It’s like… it adds some weight or legitimacy to what the person you’re talking to is saying for me. I’d be more likely to take their advice or reflect on how I handle or perceive it vs how they might have. When someone isn’t grasping at all what you’re saying, it turns into defending why you’re feeling and going through rather than being able to just… talk about it.

Idk, been thinking on the nuance of this for a while. I like reasons, I like getting an idea on if this will happen again or not. There’s just a lot of “depends on the person/situation” tho.

[diangelodork]

OKAY HERES A THING IVE BEEN ITCHING TO TALK ABOUT BUT IVE BEEN AFRAID THAT PEOPLE WILL MISINTERPRET ME

crystal knows that edwin likes charles. look at how she looks at them in the first few episodes especially. look at the things she says about them. “deceased married couple,” for one. i KNOW she knows it. it’s OKAY that she knows it. she KNOWS WHY edwin’s jealous and that’s OKAY. she isn’t obligated to protect edwin’s feelings. she isn’t obligated to refuse to pursue something with charles just because she knows how edwin feels. that’s not her fucking responsibility!! she can be aware and understand and still become involved with charles!!!!

i’ve been so afraid to say this because i don’t want anyone to sit here and think im saying that crystal is a shitty person for doing stuff with charles even though she knows how edwin feels. i’m not saying that at all.

because i’m neurodivergent, i feel i must liken this to my own experiences to help elucidate my meaning.

i had this friend group where everyone knew i had a crush on this one guy. he was my best friend at the time. he told us he had a crush on someone but that he would only tell me because i was the person he trusted the most. he told me it was someone else within the friend group. he then enlisted my help in asking her out and i did it. i had a conversation with her where i asked if she liked anyone and was very clearly trying to coax out an answer. i eventually said something along the lines of “but if you HAD to choose one person to date, who would it be???” and she finally cracked and said that it would be him, but that she would never do anything about it because she couldn’t do that to me. i was immediately like ??? that’s bullshit?? i don’t have any particular claim over this person. sure, i like him, but who am i to stand in the way of a potential relationship? you like him and he likes you and you’re allowed to do something about it. i can put my big boy pants on and say that you both made a choice and accept that i wasn’t it. that’s fine. don’t refuse the fact that you like him for my sake, that’s dumb.

all this to say, edwin liking charles does not mean he has a claim over him. charles can make his own decisions and the one he chose was to pursue crystal. crystal is not then obligated to say “well, because i know that edwin likes him, i will not pursue him back out of respect! even though he likes me and is actively TRYING to pursue me and even though i actively like him back!!”

that’s some BULLSHIT. they are their own people and are capable of making their own decisions!! she can know and still like him and want him and make out with him. that’s fine! stop treating her like a shit person just because she knows!

[bratzbrat]

✟The Witch Hunter!

pairing: witch!hunter! Katsuki Bakugo x fem!'witch' reader.

cw: arguments!, mentions of death!, female reader!, possibly a little angst?, flirting/teasing.

2.1k words.

not proofread... I was too excited to post it...

⊰𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ⊱ »»————> Resentment.

"drakthar."

"ferai?"

"oh i know! tira'shal!" you spewed suggestions at the little lizard on your neck. only to get head tilts as a response.

"y'tryin' to cast a spell 'er some shit? the fuck're ya sayin'..." the disheveled blonde cringed at the foreign words rolling off your tongue.

"trying to give him a name, no thanks to you." you huffed, mumbling the second half before you asked, "do you... have a name?" and he stopped in his tracks causing you to bump into his back with a "oof".

"stop it." he muttered, still faced away from you.

"hmm? did I say something wrong?" you tried walking in front of him to see if you could read his reaction or expression... but he just bowed his head, shying away from looking at you.

as you were led further into forest, the hunter cast irritated glances over his shoulder now and then, while you kept pace with the tiny dragonet nestled on your shoulders, each small, nervous chirp making the hunter frown deeper.

then you stumble upon another village left in ruins... empty houses sat shrouded in shadows, their broken roofs and warped doors left to the elements... the clearing was surrounded by lush grass and overgrown vines, that reached for the rotting wood of the houses.

"are all villages like this in Solgrad?" you asked, eyes scanning the area curiously, hoping to see at least one other person...

the hunter's hand instinctively dropped to his sword, as his eyes narrowed,"I know this place..." he muttered, "an' 's got witch stench all over it," looking back to glare at you.

you raised a brow, looking between him the silent homes. "what's that supposed to mean?" you huffed, crossing your arms.

"tch. yer kind left this place like this." he started forward, stepping over broken mud tiles and splintered wood.

oh... "maybe they were protecting themselves. or protecting others." you glanced at the dragonet, who nuzzled against you, leaving little coos in your ears.

he shot you a glare over his shoulder. "yer awfully fond o' defendin' 'em, witch. what kinda fool d'ya think I am?"

you returned his look, expression softening, just a bit. "someone who's already seen enough pain to understand why people might lash out when they're afraid..."

"i don' care why they lash out—only that they do. 'n that's reason enough to end it." he paused, squinting at the distant remains of a once-grand hall, where charred beams and stone foundations were all that remained. "tell me, then—what's 'protectin' in yer world? 'cause from where i stand, 'protectin' means leavin' scars like this."

you stopped, the weight of his words settling over you as you took in the deserted hall, the way its emptiness seemed to echo the hunter's distrust. "protection isn't always easy," you said quietly. "and I'm sure neither is hunting."

he clicked his tongue and looked away, irritation crossing his face as he muttered, "yer preachin' don' change facts, witch. wouldn't trust ya' not to leave one o' these places in ruins if ya' had half a mind to."

"that's what i've been trying to tell you." you countered, voice steady. "i wouldn't."

a bitter laugh was his only response, amused at your convincing, and he looked back at the dragonet clinging to you, "draggin' that scaly nuisance with us don' mean it'll be grateful y'know. world ain't exactly praisin' life to his kind either." contempt lingering in his eyes. "showin' it 'mercy' is gonna get ya' in more trouble."

the dragonet let out a timid chirp, burrowing closer as if sensing his hostility. "i'm already in trouble for just being alive..." you stroked its head gently, offering it silent reassurance. "no one can stop me from helping him. not even you, hunter." you replied, your voice calm.

he scoffed, "don' come cryin' to me when it turns on ya'." he turned back to the path ahead, his tone half-challenging, half-resigned. "hell, wouldn't surprise me one bit."

your gaze softened as you watched him stride through the abandoned village, with his broad shoulders filled with tension. you could see the pain in him—layered under his sharp words and pride. it was a pain unlike the scars left on the broken homes around you. he still lived in it, raw and unmended.

the path through the village ruins seemed endless, each step muffled by thick layers of ash and decay and you watched his captivating, vermilion eyes swept over the deserted little houses.

"this is what yer kind brings." his voice was low and bitter, as he glanced back at you with forced narrowed eyes. "yer no different. just another danger, waitin' to strike."

"is that so?" you hummed, sidling closer. "the more you speak of my people, the more you sound like you're trying to convince yourself something." you leaned in just enough to catch the faintest flicker of his discomfort. "guess you can't help yourself, hm?"

"tch." he scoffed, looking away sharply, his grip on his sword tightening for stability. "yer full of shit, witch." he paused, his voice dropping to a rough murmur. "an' yer damn lucky that's all yer full of."

you laughed softly, "so you keep saying. but somehow, i'm still here," you countered, keeping your tone light despite the ache forming in your chest.

his jaw clenched, "witches = curses." he spat, as if the words themselves were poison. "this—this's the toll yer kind leaves behind." he gestured around, his voice laced with bitterness, "all that power, an' for what? t'leave towns like this 'til there's nothin' left." he shook his head, gaze hardening as he looked at you. "if yer really so different, then prove it." he whispered, almost to himself, the slightest sound of desperation replacing his usual bite... " 'cause all i see 's another risk i shoulda put down the moment i caught ya'." and he averted his eyes, as if the sight of you was hurting him.

you swallowed, biting back tears as he stood in front of you. "maybe if you stopped looking at me like a hunter, you'd see that I mean you no harm." you forced your voice to stay steady, refusing to let his words cut deeper than they already had. "some of us—most of us—don't want anything to do with this kind of ruin." you didn't know why you tried so hard to convince him. or why you felt his words hit you where it hurts. and your dragon nuzzled your cheek.

he snorted, turning away again. "say that all ya' want, but i ain't stupid." his voice was low, cold. "ain't no witch ever just 'wants peace.' it always ends in the same damn thing—trouble." he shot you a sidelong glance. " 'n yer just waitin' fer the right moment to cause it."

"is that why you're keeping me so close?" you retorted, "is that why you took off my chains?" you raised your hands, "for me to do something that proves you right?!" raising your voice, like you were mocking him. "are you hoping i'll break under the weight of your words?" your tone lowered again.

"watch it." he growled, stepping closer to look right down at you. "yer nothin' but my next bag o' coin, witch. 'n that's all ya' ever gonna be."

you forced a laugh, though it felt more bitter than anything else. "or maybe, you're just afraid i'm right." you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze with a taunting smile.

his scowl darkened, flickering between you and your dragon, but he said nothing, his silence louder than any argument. his gaze lingered on you, hard and searching, as if daring you to slip, to reveal some hidden malice. you stared back, heart pounding, refusing to break eye contact.

he huffed and turned away from you, walking off and heading out of the deserted village, back into the dense forest. you walked for hours, until your feet was beginning to feel like it would fall off. but your little friend was as bright eyed as ever, running through your feet with each step you took, chittering like giggles escaping his snout.

and finally, after what felt like forever, you heard the faint sound of indistinct chatter... the hunter found a small town. a cluster of wooden buildings nestled between rugged hills, with the faint flicker of lanterns casting a warm glow against the stone paths. people scurried the streets, rushing to their homes and shutting their doors. and the hunter's hand stayed firmly on the hilt of his sword as the two of you inced closer.

"tch. they're prob'ly hidin' from yer witchness." he muttered, in an attempt to tease you, as his gaze scanned the town. "it's best we don' linger long."

"was that a joke?" you said, rolling your eyes. "they're probably, just as likely hiding from you, you know. you don't exactly scream 'friendly visitor'."

he side eyed you, "the hell would they be scared o' me for?"

you raised a brow, smirking. "please, with all that glaring and stomping around with your hand on your sword..." you gestured around dramatically, letting out a playful sigh. "i'm innocent compared to you." and you giggled, looking at his weirded out expression, with your dragon hugged onto his leg, excited chirps emitting from it as he tried to shake him off.

he scoffed, failing to shake him off, "ain't nothin' innocent 'bout ya," he muttered, looking at you up and down, though the faintest hint of amusement flickered in his eyes before he turned his attention back to overgrown lizard, still clinging to his leg.

"aww," you laughed, watching the baby snuggle his leg and make 'puppy eyes' up at him.

he aggressively pointed at it, "well, don' jus' stand there cacklin', get it off me."

"he likes you." you cooed, as you stepped closer, adding an exaggerated sway to your steps. "he's got horrible taste in people already..." and he jumped off the hunter, and scurried onto you, making himself comfortable around your hips, like a cute belt.

"c'mon. we better get a room before it gets any later." he said, motioning to follow behind as he walked toward the first inn he saw.

"you really can't help yourself around me, can you?" you winked, teasingly striding behind him into the inn.

"keep talkin' like that, 'n we'll see how I help myself with you sleepin' outside," he grumbled, but he didn't pull his gaze from you, his eyes narrowed with an exasperation that almost, almost, bordered on something softer.

inside the inn he chose, was dimly lit, with a smoky warmth that smelled of old wood and stale ale. a few patrons looked up as you entered, but most quickly returned to their drinks.

the innkeeper eyed you both curiously as you approached the counter. "need rooms, or just passin' through?" she asked, gaze lingering on you until your captor cleared his throat.

"two rooms. just fer the night." his tone was clipped, giving no room for conversation.

"aw, two rooms?" you pouted, giving him a mockingly disappointed look. "afraid you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself this time?"

"don' flatter yerself," he grunted, ignoring you as he tossed a few shards of your armour on the counter. "two rooms."

you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh, leaning close just enough to keep the innkeeper's attention. "he likes to pretend he doesn't want me around." you shook your head, then nodded to him standing next to you, "should've seen him last ni-"

"shut it." he cutt you off, resting a hand on your lower back, "now. where're our rooms?" his attention shifted to the innkeeper.

she looked between you two, brows raised, "upstairs. an' try to keep the noise down." she smirked at you, winking. but he merely glared back, shoving you away and up the stairs.

"don' go causin' trouble for me." he huffed, hand still on your back. but you didn't remind him to move it.

you flashed him a wicked grin. "you really think i'm capable of that?" and sarcastically gasped.

"i know ya' are. 'n i ain't dumb enough to trust yer ass not to curse me while i'm sleepin' or some shit." he looked you up and down. a gesture he's started doing more often than not.

"mhmm, suit yourself, blondie," you murmured, turning on your heel and making your own way up the stairs, the key clinking softly in your hand. but before you disappeared, you cast him a quick look over your shoulder, voice dropping to a playful whisper. "don't miss me too much."

his jaw and fists tightened, scowl deepening as he watched you go. "yer full o' it, y'know that?" and he slammed his room door shut behind him.

find the previous chapters in my masterlist!

you can also comment to be added to the taglist. if i'm unable to tag ya then you could just follow the #bratzbrat♡thewitchhunter tag down below.

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©𝐵𝑙𝑢♡

»»————> 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@annepamgkrth @pikachuzhc @icedemon1314 @d1orhaz3 @alyssasblogthings @katsucookies @hashahasha @mythicalmo @k0z3me @nanaanatiion @queenpuppy23

[gem-de-lune]

Flash Reading: SM's Statement on Seunghan

No intro lesgo aorry if there is any typos this was a very emotion heavy read and all the members are freaking tf out.

READ THE VIBE CHECK 11/15 PRIOR TO THIS READING FOR CONTEXT: HERE

How does Riize feel/what are they doing?

Do you recognize this Page of Cups? Yes. This was literally just in my Full Moon Reading regarding how this Moon was affecting Riize or rather their ultimate interaction with SM. They are going to make their emotions and intentions on this matter very very clear probably unexpectedly on SM's side. The 7 of Swords indicates they were blindsided, and the 10 of swords in this deck indicate they are overwhelmed with this feeling of being "put down". Idk how to describe this perfectly but it's like when you are so full of absolute outrage all you can do is stomp over to the person and literally seethe as you feel like you are being ignored.

How does Seunghan feel?

The Moon + Strength + The Hermit

Does he want this?

The Devil

Bro wants to hide away completely. He isnt sure what to feel. He was not blinsided here and he knew. But in classic Libra fashion he has been told what his options are and wanted to see if he could try. He is regretting it already knowing what he will have to do all alone by himself. He does not want to be a soloist. He is scared. He is barely managing to keep himself subdued. As I read this i am almost tearing up. He tried lying multiple times during the reading and If you read the way I do for individuals you know what I mean because you end up feeling what they are feeling physically and the cards don't make sense.

Anyways, he is so so so low in confidence rn. He at a point felt like it was kind of SM to even offer a solo debut, but now he knows its really a death sentence and strategy they are using to save Riize. He wants to help Riize, but he also did not want this outcome. I am so so sick to my stomach reading this bc he is so so sad and so so riddled with anxiety and fear of not knowing what will happen.

What will SM do in Response?

Knight of Swords

Extra pulls that flew out when asking for clarification and if their statement would be retracted

The Magician (flew) + King of Cups (fell out and didnt notice until i move my hand)

Recognize this Knight again? Yes this is the card pulled in Vibe Check for the full moon saying swift action will be taken. With the Magician and King of Cups we are seeing someone with the power and tools to do so taking action on the matter. With the King of cups we are actually seeing an ounce of empathy and understanding on a fundamental level (shocking).

But the fact that the Page of Cups for Riize and the Knight of Swords for SM literally showed up here is NOT a coincidence. It means this is all a part of the plan to turn things around unexpectedly.

Bottom of the deck:

The High Priestess

YALL IDK HOW CLEARER I CAN BE

She is saying to trust your intuition and follow that path with every ounce of your being. My intuition is telling me this isn't the end and the truth, and what is right will prevail. There is absolutely no better indication of that than the Priestess. If you have any ounce of intuition you KNOW what is happening right now and you KNOW what is right. Follow that feeling.

This is not the end. SM is trying to console people because they SEE the numbers, and they don't like it. This is the sale pity party prize they gave Lucas. I, for one, have had enough of their antics. This is where it stops. Do. Not. Fall. For. This.

[utilitycaster]

The thing that I think gets me about Neve the most, and this is past the point where I personally am in the game, is that you can still romance her after you've chosen to prioritize Treviso (which you can't do for Lucanis if you do the reverse). The thing is, it makes sense. Neve judges you negatively for trusting her. There's a dialogue in the Shadow Dragons hideout where Tarquin (Shadow Dragons faction agent) gripes about The Viper (Shadow Dragons faction agent and leader) running background checks on him, before admitting he'd probably do the same. And the thing is, if you tell Tarquin that this seems reasonable he accepts it, but he seems irritated. Neve doesn't.

You meet Neve striking a pose, having frozen her assailants, needing none of your help. Neve does not, on the whole, ever seem to want your help until she begs you to save Minrathous. She approves of you taking her to interrupt the ritual, and seems to be entirely unbothered by the fact that it leaves her badly bruised - indeed, you have to actively choose to leave her behind later when you go looking for Bellara.

Neve loves Minrathous and Dock Town, which means she also hates them. She takes you there, if you do the companion quest, which you should. She invites you after Bellara fangirls out over some news pieces about her (Neve drily remarks they were hit pieces), to go pick up some leads and some serials Bellara wants. For all she's sarcastic, gruff, and even a little snide with Bellara (and with my playing of Rook, who is fairly direct and positive with the Veilguard companions) and doesn't believe a Tevinter serial would ever truly end happily if it were remotely realistic, she still wants to get those serials for her teammates. She's not here to make friends, though she's slowly doing so, but she also believes in working with your allies even when they're sunny and scatterbrained or bracingly positive and you're an exhausted, cynical detective.

Exhausted is I think the most salient point. Neve is fucking tired. She tells you she's lived in Dock Town her whole life, and she became a detective, taking on cases for people who weren't helped by the Templars (who, you learn in one of the core missions prior to your choice to save only one of Minrathous and Treviso, are corrupt all the way up to the top). After solving a missing person case successfully, with an implication that she freed a slave in the process, the Shadow Dragons recruited her, but she's been doing the same work she always done. And the Shadow Dragons, meanwhile, in addition to attempting, with limited success, to infiltrate the Magistrate and fight for abolitionism, also do a lot of work like Neve's: helping people on the street. Their basement is full of unhoused and hungry people with nowhere else to go.

Neve is tired because, I think, she doesn't really believe Minrathous will get much better in her lifetime. She tells you in her companion quest, as you eat street food on the docks, looking out into the ocean, that she treasures the small wins because that's what she gets. Whereas the Crows remember a free Treviso and fight for that, Neve, in particular, feels like she's just trying to keep things from getting worse, and maybe help a few people. She's cynical because dreaming big probably won't pan out and she knows it so she's not going to waste her time.

Her work is her life. Her gift is literally just more evidence. Harding, Lucanis, and Bellara all reminisce about friends and family, but Neve still hasn't yet. You get the sense that Rana, one of the few clean Templars with whom she works, is probably the person she'd put down as an emergency contact. She doesn't even really get along with Tarquin, though, to be fair, doesn't seem like anyone does. Her world is a network of people who are useful.

I'm going somewhere with this, and that's, unsurprisingly, to Critical Role Campaign 3, because after all that here's my thesis: Neve is what people want some of Bells Hells, but especially Ashton, to be.

I've seen defense of Ashton's abrasiveness because many leftists are abrasive people, and the thing is, that's not untrue, but they're abrasive because they're like Neve: they're doing endless difficult work with very little reward or thanks, and at most they get small wins.

What has Ashton done for their communities? The Nobodies and Krook House aren't feeding the hungry or fighting corruption; the former is a group of thieves with no particular cause and the latter a punk co-op house. What was Ashton doing for the people of Jrusar or Bassuras? I struggle to find anything tangible. There's a lot of talk and no action - punk aesthetics and a lot of talk about standing for the weak, but when do they actually do that? It's all very surface level, and so the defenses of Ashton must focus entirely on what and who they are (nb, disabled, punk, had a terrible childhood) and what they say but never, ever, what they do. It's posturing.

Neve? It's entirely what she does. She is, for what it's worth, disabled and queer (and played by a woman of color, though whether she's coded as such in-game probably requires an academic background in both the history of Thedas and the history of the real-world Black Sea region) but we don't know a damn thing about her childhood yet. We don't know if she's been hurt or heartbroken or abandoned until we, as Rook, have to decide whether to do that to her. And when we do? She takes her time (she's not back yet in my game) but in the end, she blames the actual root causes of the elven gods sending the dragon and blight, and the Venatori working with them and, as far as I know, gets back to work. As she always has.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Century Demons

The steam engine blasted vapor into the air. Cacophonous chatter from the crowds all around us, pressing like a physical weight. I truely did hate traveling. Granted, there was nothing for it, we were needed. Being their Majesty's Special Task Force and all. But STILL! Awful. Just, awful!

It was the pushing, really. The constant shoving. Flashs of insight into lives I wanted nothing to do with. That individual? Marriage was collapsing. This one? Had debts. The girl who just stepped on my foot, thought she was in love, but honestly? Any adult could tell you how badly it was going to end. He was using her.

Frankly, I wish we could walk. At this point? I would honestly take a flipping DONKEY! But nooooo! What has my husband decided to do? "Let's take the TRAIN, darling! It'll be an ADVENTURE! Save so much TIME!"

He's lucky I married him AT ALL. Fuck. I HAD options! Could have been a Baron's wife. Well-to-do! But NO, I wanted to HELP people. Like a FOOL. Gods, my mother was RIGHT! Cute air-heads WOULD be the death of-!

I finally spot Arthur, the sweet idiot, looking lost by our baggage. Map in hand. Like a confused puppy told to do arithmetic or be scolded, his anxiety is palpable. I gather my skirts and shove. Fuck being polite. Everyone ELSE seems to be fine, being stampeding herd animals. Why not I? Move!

"O-Oh thank goodness! Darling!" Arthur gasps, nearly dropping the map as he reaches for me as I get close. His eye are wide and his expression frazzled. Tone as though someone has been compressing his chest. "There are-! There are so many PATHS! I didn't-! And I-! Oh dear. W-what do we do? Darling, I can't-! It's so-!"

Damn it! I KNEW this would happen! This was an awful idea! Reaching for my husband's face, I cup his cheeks, propriety be damned. Pull him close to press his forhead against mine. Match my breath, dear. Focus, darling, just... focus. Close your eyes. You do not See. Curse crowded places and what they do to us. We should have moved to the countryside years ago.

But no, no Arthur would never leave his Sister. And I'll not leave him behind. Damn it all, why? WHY?

Why did she have to pick the Nobility Route?

It was bad enough, remembering this world "wasn't real". That it had a "plot" for Gods sake. Bad ENOUGH to realize that the monster under the bed very much WERE a real and present threat, that I SHOULD be concerned about. But fool that I am? Did I HAVE to fall in love with the Protagonist's brother? Sweet and foolish? A simple, if air headed man? Apparently!

All I could do, now, was try to protect him. Try and protect myself.

Ignore the nasty, judging looks, being sent our way. Piss off! The lot of you! I took no vows to YOU. Stood in no church! There us exactly ONE person in the train station I care about, and it is NONE of you, so keep your snide opinions to yourself! Breathe, Arthur. There we go, dear.

Pulling back slightly, I check his eyes. They flick and track things unseen. He is still unusually pale. He... he will be rather disappointed. He was excited to try the trains. To him? They are a bold new technology.

Maybe once we get farther from the city. Here, at least, he is drowning.

Then, a change. Sudden and swiftly building. Whatever Paths my husband traced were disappearing, narrowing, even as terror sweeped across his face. Only twice I had ever seen this before. Once, was an earthquake. The largest seen in over 400 years. The other? A bombing just before the royal wedding, we had been still engaged then. But the way he had frozen? Mid-sentence?

It is BURNED into my mind. Just like the horror that followed.

Bellowing, I command everyone to get out. Evacuate.

NOW.

But already... it is too late. Down the line of the train, terrible symbols flash into being. Molten red metal, on the side of the train cars themselves, instants before the BLOW. Unspeakable shrapnel bombs. Made of people and metal and MAGIC. The train cars lifted from the tracks by the knock back, smashing into fleeing crowds, even as the next car goes off. And then the next. And the next.

A writhing chain of death.

Like the dying spasms if a great snake.

My husband is frozen. No. As I drag him down? I realize with horror, worse. Seizing. It has NEVER been this bad! What is HAPPENING?! What Path is he SEEING that could cause such OVERLOAD? Terrified, I watch as thin trails of blood, seep from his eyes, his nose. Oh Gods. Oh GODS! Arthur? ARTHUR!

Love! Stay with me! Please! D-Darling, Please! Focus on my voice! You have to let them GO! Close your EYES, Arthur! Don't look! Please, DON'T LOOK! It's KILLING YOU!

"That's rather the point."

I stop. From on the ground, where I crawl. Dragging my unresponsive husband to safety. My gaze finally whips around to ahead of us. Amongst the chaos... stands a conductor. Pressed uniform clean and hair entirely too long. His eyes... oh Gods, his EYES. I do not need to touch him to know. That? THAT is not a human.

Not anymore.

Shrapnel flies harmlessly over us, but comes no where near him. As though where he stands is Forbidden to touch. All around him, those fleeing? Suffering? Do not notice him. Do not SEE. Yet, on instinct alone... avoid him.

Because, of course they do. B-because that?

That Is A Demon.

We weren't even remotely prepared for this. And even if we WERE. Everything is packed away. Pressed to the floor, all I can do? Is drag my husband close. Feel tear begin to fill my eyes and choke my throat, as I curse the Gods. Damn it. D-Damn it! I drag Arthur under me. A-as though... as though we were just... just resting at home. Cuddling, as we so often do.

I-It will be okay, darling. Come back to me. Arthur... Please...

(We promised to go together...)

"He really is useless, isn't he? Can't protect you. Couldn't warn you. Can't even die, where he's supposed to be. Really, how hard is it? To just get on the damned train? Quite inconsiderate, your worthless lump of a first husband. It really won't be hard, no doubt, to surpass him in every way."

I drag Arthur closer. Cradling his head to me chest. You'll have to go through ME, you fucking monster! It's.. it's a laughable defense. I'm tissue paper. We both are. With out supplies and the proper anti-demonics? H-he's going to SHRED us. But... but! I took a VOW.

Married this man.

I... I love him.

Even if he's not awake. Even if he's trapped in his own gifts by this BASTARD of a Demon. That's.. That's okay. I'm still here. W-We're still together. And I love him. Silly, ridiculous, air-headed fool that he is. My quite scholar. M-My best friend. I glare at the damnable creature before us.

"You really do have such lovely eyes." It notes, tilting it's head. "Does he appreciate them? Somehow, I doubt it. He makes you live in squalor, after all. Dresses you in rags and works you like an animal. You were meant for so much... more. I can feel it."

With a boneless grace he squats, bringing him closer even as I try to drag us away, he reaches out. One hand both perfectly human yet tipped with claws. In the distance, I hear doors being forced open. Commanding voices. Prayers and the glimpses of shining light. The Paladins are here.

Too late... I... I fear it is too late.

Demon skin touchs my face and I scream, as I am cast beneath the waves. It is so dark. Oh Gods. OH GODS. IT IS SO DARK. HELP ME. HELP ME! IT HURTS! It HuRtS! HELP M-!

"Shhh, drink deep and sink down, Love. I will be there to catch you. Forget about him. Forget about everything. You are made for so much more. We were meant to be together. Just let go, sweet."

"Just let go..."

[secretsantafrans]

Frans Secret Santa Pinch-In Hits 2024

If you are interesting in helping me out with pitch-hits (a request for a person in case their Secret Santa gift is never delivered), read this post!

Things you can expect if you apply:

1. I offer not just a Frans request, but request of any theme to those who haven’t gotten their present in time, so it may not even be Undertale-related. (Though experience shows people still usually ask for something frans-related anyway)

2. I won’t rush anyone. If there will be any time-pressing requests I’ll do them myself.

3. If when the time comes you are no longer able to help even if you applied to help you won’t have any obligations to do so.

4. You’ll get maximum of one request. Depending on how many you helpful sweethearts out there you may not get any at all (which is a good thing!)

5. No kind of rewards for this one xD just a very sincere ‘Thank you’ and lots more of Christmas spirit of giving especially this year because I am very tired and help seems like a blessing

If you want to help out, you can apply here.

Last year I kind of got shy to actually go and ask people who applied to this form and stressed over those request myself but I'll try to be better about it this year I swear ✨

[dukeofankh]

I mean, nothing I said was suggesting that nothing can or should be done. I have a couple things I can think of but people are already rightly pointing out that my experience, like all experiences, isnt universal. Calling out a shallow take isn't something I'm doing because I'm so so wise and I know how to fix everything.

I have heard the take that part of the fix for this will probably be a lot more white men with podcasts, and that is almost definitely *part* of the fix. It is legitimately difficult for young men to find content about random ass basic hobbies that isn't being served to them by low-key fascists. That needs to change. When talking with other progressive men, something that came up a lot was after school programs, especially ones that bring boys in more contact with their communities and expose them to different kinds of people in positive ways. Hate breeds in ignorance and isolation.

You already seem very anti-terf, which is great. That is also part of it. I don't honestly think that women are the cause of this problem but like, in terms of fixing this and convincing men that feminists are on their side, yeah, some small part of it is probably looking at the state of feminism currently and recognizing that it has devolved in many very public online spaces into reactionary gender essentialism and that radical feminism takes up a lot more air than anyone would like to pretend it does. "Sure I wholeheartedly reblogged something that claimed that any man who seems decent is just trying to let women's guards down to make it easier to assault them, something all men are trying to do to women at all times, but that's just venting. Ignore that broadside that me and my friends just unloaded on you and everyone who looks anything like you, if you think that your hurt feelings about that matter, that's on you for not recognizing that our pain justifies saying literally whatever we want" (to call up a random example) is certainly a standard that it is possible to enforce in some more isolated corners of the internet, but there has been a serious breakdown between the personal and the public, which is hell for messaging as a movement. This is no longer drinks with friends, this stuff gets broadcast worldwide to men who are trying to get a sense of what feminism is about. At some level, what is cathartic to say will have to give way to what is tactically wise to announce. The only men who will willingly share space with that sentiment if it is core to this movement are either convinced that they are personally exempt from examining their own privilege, which is its own problem, or men who agree wholeheartedly that all men are evil, them included, and are trying to atone. I've interacted plenty with both in male feminist spaces. It's not a winning team. I am aware how hard that will be. 4B type political lesbianism/lesbian separatism seems to be having a moment (at least as a meme) right now as people process their grief in this moment. That's understandable. But it's not wise.

Considering this is happening in the wake of the US election, and I'm saying this as a Canadian, it's also worth gently and precisely noting that even if the harm is the same, someone who voted for trump didn't necessarily do it because they despise women. If we're just looking at the raw numbers and saying "we're doomed", that's probably not helpful or, luckily, accurate. The project of changing the cultural narrative is huge and depressingly long. The rise of reactionary right wing populism when a society starts failing its young people economically isn't. That is a different, and much easier project. If you don't want people to vote for right wing populism, you need to give them left wing populism, and infiltrating the democratic party and pulling all the same tricks the right did but towards economic policy that will provide the next generation of men with the opportunity to own homes and pull their weight supporting families will do a hell of a lot more in a much shorter time than systematically changing each and every man's heart, especially considering a lot of the people who voted for trump weren't men. This project will outlast us, but MAGA doesn't have to.

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[strywoven]

hey , hi , hello — how are we ? great.

so here’s the skinny , the break has been good ( & necessary ) . i don’t think you need the details as to what all has been happening behind the screen , but just know i am slowly pulling my mental health back into something more manageable. you might be asking : what’s going on with the blog ? a few things are going to happen …

the blog will go through an overhaul ; new graphics , new theme , new carrd AND a new url ( “ilbound” ) . i am NOT deleting and starting over because , frankly , i don’t care to do that , so the next best thing is hard-resetting the entire blog.

i will be removing EVERYONE from my following because the number is high as it is and i feel like starting from square-one , ensuring that i keep a smaller circle of people , will help tremendously with how out of touch and disconnected i have been feeling regarding the RPC on the whole. this does not mean i don’t want to interact in the future if we organically find each other at another point , this is just for the sake of my own stability at present. you DO NOT have to like this post for me to follow you back whenever i restart the blog ( but it will help me to remember people’s urls ) . if this is where we part , i thank you for being part of my dash regardless ! know that even if we did not interact , i greedily consumed the content you all produced.

i mentioned in the post prior to this that drafts will be dropped. as of writing this , only 2 of you reached out to claim drafts so i’ll take it as a sign to employ my own discretion as to what i want to keep or toss. unprompted asks and starters i’ve yet to reply to are exempt from this ; i intend to keep those.

i intend to ( try to ) launch some new characters , too !

annnnd that should be it ! i don’t know when everything will be set up / finished , but the purge ( tm ) will be done around the 22nd. i’m shooting for the new year for everything to be settled but we shall see. i know this might not be ideal for people , but i’m not doing this to be bothersome ; it simply felt as if something had to be done to re-establish my space and make it feel “good” again. none of my negativity was due to anyone personally , it was a collection of things offline and the feeling of the RPC in general. as always , thank you for understanding and i shall see you when i see you ( likely on better terms ) .

[blissfullyecho]

Become Your Dream Girl in 2025

Defining your dream girl persona

The first step into becoming your dream girl is to have a clear picture of her in your mind. Imagine her life in detail; her aesthetic, her habits, and even her energy. This is the time to get specific.

Visualization Exercise: Sit in a quiet space, close your eyes, and visualize your dream girl persona. How does she dress? What places does she visit? What are her priorities and goals? Let yourself feel her confidence, luxury, and elegance.

Create a Vision Board: Gather photos, quotes, fabrics, and colors that represent this version of you. A physical board can go in your room or closet. It can even be a mini collage you can put on your driver's side mirror in your car. The goal is to see your dream girl's life as real and achievable.

Setting New Year Goals

Your dream girl's life needs structure, so let's break down goals into categories and map out the steps to make it happen.

Categorize Your Goals: List your goals under personal growth, style & beauty, health & wellness, and career & financial. For example, under "Health & Wellness", you might set a goal to try Pilates or to cook more at home.

Monthly Check-Ins: As you go through the year, check in with your goals to celebrate your wins, and adjust as needed. This keeps your transformation on track.

Mindset Makeover

Confidence & Self-Worth

Your dream girl is confident, magnetic, and knows her worth. Let's build those habits and thoughts that help you embody that energy daily.

Positive Affirmations: Every time you look in the mirror, say things like "I am worth everything good that can happen to me" or any affirmation that you feel suits you best.

Confidence Rituals: Small, daily actions add up to huge shifts in confidence. Make it a habit to dress up on casual days, speak kindly to yourself, and embrace good posture.

Let Go of Insecurities: Identify any insecurities and practice reframing them. Instead of "I wish I was more confident", say "I am becoming more confident every day". Over time, you'll notice how these subtle shifts impact your self-worth.

Mindset for Success

Your dream girl is resilient and always growing, so let's make success part of your mindset.

Growth Mindset: View challenges as chances to learn, whether it's a career move, a new hobby, or even a social situation.

Visualizing Success: Each morning, spend a few minutes visualizing yourself living your dream life. This will keep you focused and motivated.

Morning & Evening Routines: Start each day with intention by setting small goals and expressing gratitude. At night, reflect on the day and celebrate your wins; even the small ones.

Social Life & Relationships

Social confidence comes from feeling at ease in your own skin.

Elegant Etiquette: Show appreciation with thank you notes, and make an effort to remember names. The vibe for 2025 is to go for traditional, rather than modern. Think classic early 1920's-1950's Hollywood.

Curate Your Circle: Surround yourself with supportive, inspiring friends who uplift you. Leave the ones who don't elevate themselves or try to keep you behind.

Networking Lifestyle: Turn social gatherings into chances to meet like-minded people and to elevate your circle.

(Dating) Standards First: Don't settle; know what you deserve in a partner and communicate it confidently.

(Dating) Playful Energy: Be confident, flirty, and assertive (with yourself, not them). Stay in your feminine energy and let them earn your time and attention.

(Dating) Relationship Goals: Keep dates special and playful. Dress up, go out, and enjoy yourself.

Finances & Career Goals

Your dream girl values luxury, but also financial security. Your career is part of your dream girl identity, so elevate it.

Budgeting: Set aside money for luxuries and self-investment, but keep savings in mind.

Multiple Income Streams: Consider side hustles that align with your lifestyle.

Savings Goals: Whether it's for a designer bag, a trip, or just building wealth, make sure your goals are concrete.

Luxury Workspace: Make your workspace a vibe with candles, flowers, and chic decor.

Network for Success: Connect with mentors and people who inspire you.

Grow with Intention: Set milestones in your career or business, and keep pushing for the next level.

Health & Wellness

Your body is the vessel of your dream girl, so let's treat it with love and care. Mental clarity and peace are essential for dream girl energy; so let's focus on overall wellness this year.

Exercise: Try Pilates or Barre classes for a toned, elegant look. If that's not your thing, find workouts that create your dream body.

Healthy Eating: Focus on whole foods, lots of veggies, and drink tons of water.

Weekly Reset: Plan a mini detox day where you relax, hydrate, and reset for the week.

Mindfulness Practice: Try a short meditation or breathing exercise every morning.

Stress Relief: Whether it's a quick walk, journaling, or a creative outlet, find a stress relief that's all you.

Boundaries: Say no when needed, and make sure your energy is protected.

Beauty & Style Upgrade

First, a dream girl has that glow, and it all starts with a skincare routine that feels luxurious. You also need to find a style that captures your dream girl vibe, and commit to curating it. Then, you need to develop habits that will help you better your appearance.

Simple Skincare Routine (For Starters): Start with a cleanser for your skin type, followed by a hydrating toner, a serum (like Vitamin C for brightness), moisturizer, and SPF.

Luxury Treatments: Invest in facials or try gentle at-home treatments like dermaplaning once a month for an extra glow.

Nightly Routine: Keep your skin hydrated at night with a heavier moisturizer or an overnight mask.

Personal Style Icons: Think of someone like Serena van der Woodsen from Gossip Girl or a high-fashion model off-duty.

Curating Your Wardrobe: Focus on high-quality staples in neutral tones, like blazers, silky blouses, and tailored bottoms. Invest in timeless pieces that make you feel like a billion dollars.

Signature Look: A dream girl has her thing, whether it's an accessory, a makeup look, or a scent. Find what makes you feel like you and stick with it.

Self-Care Rituals: Prioritize manicures and pedicures, hair masks, and bubble baths. Set aside time every week to pamper yourself.

Polished Look: Even on your most casual days, aim to look put together.

Signature Hair & Makeup: Pick a go-to glam look that embodies your dream girl; maybe that's glossy lips and loose waves (for example).

Lifestyle & Daily Habits

Your routine should feel luxurious yet practical, setting the tone for each day. Small daily habits can transform how you feel and present yourself.

Weekly Pamper Sessions: Set aside Sunday evenings for facials, skincare, and champagne baths! (Be careful and make sure you're of legal drinking age)

Journaling and Reflection: Each morning, write down 3 things you're grateful for and 3 intentions for the day.

Goal Reviews: Every Sunday, celebrate your wins and see if any goals need a refresh.

The Basic Routine: Make your bed, wake up early, and put on an outfit that feels like you.

Energy-Boosting Habits: A quick stretch, a healthy breakfast, and a moment of quiet can make a huge difference.

Wind-Down Ritual: At night, unwind with tea, a bubble bath, or a short meditation to recharge for tomorrow.

Indulge a Little: Get a weekly coffee treat or a luxurious candle that makes your space feel cozy.

Luxury Experiences: Plan for a special outing every month, like a fancy dinner or spa day.

Signature Scents and Cocktails: Find your go-to perfume and a signature drink like a dirty martini or a bubbly glass of champagne.

Conclusion:

Becoming your dream girl is a journey; one that's glamorous, fulfilling, and full of growth. Each step brings you closer to living the life you deserve.

[aingeal98]

Arcane spoilers and musing

It's so interesting to me that Vi and Jinx are both not big picture people, always focused on their loved ones around them, meanwhile everyone else in the cast from Ekko to Cait to Mel have ideals and ambitions to shape society. Vi and Jinx are both aware of their place in society of course and they have thoughts and feelings about it, but it's not what drives them for 99% of the story. Jinx blows up a bridge full of enforcers and hums the song she sang to distract herself when years ago on the very same bridge enforcers killed her parents. And yet she wouldn't be doing any of it if not to get the gemstone back, which she only really wants as a means to prove to Silco that she can be strong and useful and deserving of her place by his side. Her drive is all personal and focused on the people around her, the karmic retribution towards the enforcers is a nice bit of icing on the cake.

Similarly Vi grew up hating and resenting topside but the one time she lead others in a decision to steal from them the resulting domino effect left her so weighed down by guilt that she has spent the rest of her life desperately trying to protect her loved ones from more hurt and harm and either failing or getting rejected by said loved ones every time. She is driven by guilt and the determination to make things right and being unable to see beyond that has now left her with no one and nothing. She was living for Powder and Powder said I'm a monster called Jinx now that you created. She was living to stop that monster and make things right for Caitlyn because Jinx deliberately kidnapped Cait due to her bond with Vi, and that led her to ignore every red flag and cross every moral line only to get rejected by Cait anyways. She can't go back to Ekko after what she and the enforcers did. She has no one now.

And their S2 arcs are so interesting to me because Vi finally hits rock bottom, zero hope, and now has to find a reason to start living for herself. Her decision to just make a living fighting and drinking away the pain makes so much sense but I'm so curious how they're going to get her out of that pit of self loathing and depression.

Meanwhile Jinx has accidentally tripped her way into becoming a revolutionairy symbol due to personal hijinxs and spite. Which is amazing. You never focused on the greater implications of your actions and harmed your community for years but congrats you're an inspiration and a figurehead now. You mean something on your own. There's no one person, Vi or Silco or Mylo, who you need to prove yourself to. Everyone is now determined to prove themselves to be like YOU. How do you handle that?

(sidenote if I was Ekko I would be so salty like what do you mean I spent years actually helping my community with a vision for a better Zaun fighting against both Silco and enforcers, and these two sisters who I know for a fact are nowhere near as committed to Zaun as I am and have both actively harmed citizens accidentally spark a revolution while working out family drama. Cool cool cool fuck you all I'm inventing time travel.)