#Advanced Tracking Devices

[mesterdeals]

Top 5 Fitness Trackers to Monitor Your Progress in 2025

In the ever-evolving world of fitness technology, staying on top of the latest trends is crucial for anyone looking to monitor their health and fitness progress effectively. As we step into 2025, fitness trackers have become more advanced, offering a plethora of features that cater to every aspect of your wellness journey. Whether you're a fitness enthusiast, a casual exerciser, or someone looking to improve their overall health, having the right fitness tracker can make all the difference. In this article, we’ll explore the top 5 fitness trackers to monitor your progress in 2025, ensuring you stay ahead in your fitness game.

Why Fitness Trackers Are Essential in 2025

Fitness trackers have evolved from simple step counters to comprehensive health monitoring devices. In 2025, these gadgets are equipped with advanced sensors, AI-driven insights, and seamless integration with other smart devices. They help you track everything from heart rate and sleep patterns to calorie intake and workout intensity. With the right fitness tracker, you can set goals, monitor progress, and stay motivated throughout your fitness journey.

Top 5 Fitness Trackers to Monitor Your Progress in 2025

1. Fitbit Charge 6 Pro

Fitbit continues to dominate the fitness tracker market, and the Charge 6 Pro is their flagship model for 2025. This sleek device offers:

Advanced Heart Rate Monitoring: Tracks your heart rate 24/7 with improved accuracy.

Sleep Analysis: Provides detailed insights into your sleep stages and quality.

GPS Integration: Perfect for runners and cyclists, offering real-time distance and pace tracking.

Long Battery Life: Up to 10 days on a single charge.

AI-Powered Coaching: Personalized workout recommendations based on your activity levels.

The Fitbit Charge 6 Pro is perfect for those who want a reliable, all-around fitness tracker with a user-friendly interface.

2. Garmin Venu 4

Garmin is known for its robust and feature-packed fitness trackers, and the Venu 4 is no exception. Key features include:

AMOLED Display: Vibrant and easy-to-read screen, even in direct sunlight.

Comprehensive Health Metrics: Tracks stress, hydration, and even menstrual cycles.

On-Device Workouts: Access to guided workouts directly on your wrist.

Music Storage: Store and play your favorite tunes without needing your phone.

Water Resistance: Ideal for swimmers and water sports enthusiasts.

The Garmin Venu 4 is a great choice for those who want a premium fitness tracker with advanced health and fitness features.

3. Apple Watch Series 10

Apple continues to push the boundaries of smartwatch technology with the Apple Watch Series 10. This device is a powerhouse for fitness tracking, offering:

Blood Oxygen Monitoring: Keeps tabs on your respiratory health.

ECG App: Allows you to take electrocardiograms anytime, anywhere.

Seamless Integration: Syncs effortlessly with other Apple devices and apps.

Customizable Workouts: Tailor your fitness routines with ease.

Fall Detection: Automatically alerts emergency services if a fall is detected.

The Apple Watch Series 10 is ideal for Apple users who want a versatile and stylish fitness tracker.

4. Whoop Strap 5.0

The Whoop Strap 5.0 is a favorite among athletes and fitness professionals. This minimalist tracker focuses on recovery and performance optimization, featuring:

Strain Coach: Helps you optimize your workouts based on your body’s readiness.

Recovery Analysis: Tracks your sleep and recovery to ensure you’re at your best.

No Screen Design: Encourages you to focus on your body rather than the device.

Subscription Model: Offers continuous updates and personalized insights.

The Whoop Strap 5.0 is perfect for those who prioritize recovery and performance over flashy features.

5. Samsung Galaxy Fit 3

Samsung’s Galaxy Fit 3 is a budget-friendly option that doesn’t compromise on quality. Key features include:

Slim Design: Lightweight and comfortable for all-day wear.

Auto Workout Detection: Automatically recognizes and tracks your exercises.

Stress Management: Provides breathing exercises to help you relax.

Long Battery Life: Lasts up to 2 weeks on a single charge.

Affordable Price: Offers excellent value for money.

The Samsung Galaxy Fit 3 is a great choice for beginners or those looking for an affordable yet reliable fitness tracker.

How to Choose the Right Fitness Tracker for You

When selecting a fitness tracker, consider the following factors:

Your Fitness Goals: Are you focusing on running, swimming, or general health?

Budget: Fitness trackers range from affordable to premium. Choose one that fits your budget.

Compatibility: Ensure the tracker works seamlessly with your smartphone and other devices.

Battery Life: Look for a device that can keep up with your lifestyle.

Design and Comfort: Choose a tracker that feels comfortable on your wrist and suits your style.

[medickpidia]

Information

The Samsung Galaxy Watch 6 (44mm, Bluetooth) is a powerful and stylish smartwatch designed for fitness tracking, health monitoring, and everyday convenience. With an enhanced big-screen display, personalized heart rate zones, advanced sleep coaching, and comprehensive health insights, this smartwatch helps you stay on top of your wellness goals while keeping you connected on the go.

Features

✅ Big, Bright, and Durable Display:

1.5-inch Super AMOLED display with vibrant colors and improved readability.

Higher resolution for crystal-clear visuals.

Sapphire Crystal glass for enhanced durability and scratch resistance.

✅ Bluetooth Connectivity & Smart Notifications:

Syncs seamlessly with Samsung Galaxy smartphones and other Android devices.

Receive calls, messages, and app notifications directly on your wrist.

Control music, apps, and smart home devices from your watch.

✅ Advanced Fitness & Workout Tracking:

Personalized Heart Rate Zones: Customizes workout intensity based on your fitness level.

Over 90 workout modes, including running, cycling, swimming, and strength training.

Auto-detects workouts and tracks real-time performance metrics.

✅ Comprehensive Health & Wellness Insights:

Heart Rate Monitoring: Measures heart rate, alerts for irregular rhythms.

ECG & Blood Pressure Monitoring (Samsung Health Monitor app required).

BIA (Bioelectrical Impedance Analysis) Sensor: Tracks body fat percentage, muscle mass, and hydration levels.

SpO2 & VO2 Max Monitoring for blood oxygen and cardio fitness tracking.

✅ Advanced Sleep Coaching:

Monitors sleep cycles, snoring patterns, and blood oxygen levels.

Provides personalized insights and tips to improve sleep quality.

Smart wake-up alarms ensure you wake up at the optimal time.

✅ Sleek & Lightweight Design:

44mm aluminum case with a premium Graphite finish.

Comfortable, interchangeable bands for a customizable look.

Water-resistant (IP68 & 5ATM) for swimming and outdoor activities.

✅ Long-Lasting Battery & Fast Charging:

Up to 40 hours of battery life on a single charge.

Fast wireless charging for quick top-ups.

✅ One UI 5 Watch & Wear OS by Google:

Seamless integration with Android devices.

Access to Google apps like Maps, Assistant, and Wallet.

Download third-party fitness and productivity apps from the Play Store.

Ideal��

✔️ Fitness enthusiasts & athletes looking for real-time performance tracking. ✔️ Health-conscious users who want heart rate, sleep, and body composition monitoring. ✔️ Samsung ecosystem users who want seamless integration with their Galaxy devices. ✔️ Busy professionals who need a smartwatch with notifications and smart features.

Specifications

Display: 1.5" Super AMOLED, Always-On

Case Size: 44mm

Material: Aluminum

Color: Graphite

Battery Life: Up to 40 hours

Operating System: Wear OS (One UI 5 Watch)

Sensors: ECG, BIA, HR, SpO2, GPS, Accelerometer, Gyro

Water & Dust Resistance: IP68, 5ATM

Connectivity: Bluetooth, Wi-Fi, NFC

The Samsung Galaxy Watch 6 (44mm, Bluetooth) is a premium smartwatch that combines style, performance, and health tracking in one sleek package. Whether you're focusing on fitness, wellness, or staying connected, this watch delivers a comprehensive experience with cutting-edge features.

[medsurfernews]

Sleep Optimization Technology: Latest Gadgets and Innovations for Better Rest

Discover the latest advancements in sleep optimization technology! Explore smart sleep gadgets, tracking tools, and innovative products to improve your rest and wake up refreshed. In today’s fast-paced world, quality sleep has become a luxury many struggle to achieve. From busy schedules to constant screen exposure, numerous factors disrupt our sleep cycles. But there’s good news—technology is…

[novella-november]

Novella November 2024 Announcement Post

Hate AI, but love writing challenges?

Want to take part in a global, fun project to write a Novella in one month?

Grab some friends, and take part in Novella November, by writing 1,000 words a day for the month of November, ending with a 30,000 word Novella to test and stretch your novel-writing skills!

Your goal is not perfection, but merely getting into the habit of writing a litte bit every single day :D

No website, no sign-ups -- Just a community initiative to write using only your own word!

What are the rules? Just Three so far!

#1 - No AI

#2 - No Plagiarizing

#3 - Wordcount for the month should only come from what you write during the month.

What does that mean?

Only words written during November should go towards your Wordcount for the month... but! Feel free to use your 30k words as a continuation of previous writing, or just make it the first 30k words in a longer novel!

Don't think you can write a whole entire 30k word story? Write a series of short stories that total up to 30k!

Not ready to write original works yet? Write a 30k word fanfiction that you can post after the month is over!

Share your writing experience, tips, encouragement, and questions in the #Novella November tag!

---

EDIT, from the tags: Want a progress tracker? Track your progress with TrackBear!

https://trackbear.app/

Don't have a word processor? Use LibreOffice , the free and open-source alternative to Microsoft Word!

Want to organize/storyboard your Novel and don't want to pay a subscription? Try 7writer by Simon Haynes!

Want to be able to listen to your story aloud for proofreading using TTS (text to speech)? Try Balabolka!

Or, create some custom progress / Goal Cards in advance you can fill out as you reach word goals! For ideas and templates, search this blog for "goal cards" :D

Want to do a writing challenge in more than just November? Check out my ideas here for year round challenges to keep you writing consistently! Got feedback? Send it in, I'd love to see everyone's ideas!

---

EDIT 2: I almost forgot to mention, if you are unable to write/type your story, you can also narrate/dictate your story to your preferred recording device!

If you're doing a Recording only and it doesn't automatically generate a transcript, it would obviously be hard to judge the word count -- but you're also working with a lot of obstacles, so I'd say if you're able to complete your story via voice recording from start to finish, you've definitely achieved the goal!

Edit #3: added the title "Novella November 2024 announcement post" to the top to make it more standard with my Ominous October and Drabble December posts (will be updating Outline October shortly) , added "Official Announcement Post 2024" to the tags so people can easily find the monthly events for 2024, and added a bit of bold to the third bullet point in the original post from September 2nd 2024 for emphasis.

[techdriveplay]

How Many People Own Smartwatches in 2024?

Smartwatches have become an integral part of our daily lives, blending technology with convenience. As we delve into 2024, the adoption of smartwatches has seen significant growth. Let’s take a closer look at the statistics and fully understand how many people own smartwatches in 2024. 1. In 2024, it is estimated that over 1.2 billion people globally own smartwatches.2. This marks a 15% increase…

[reasonsforhope]

"For [Tanner] Green, the chief engineer at Not a Wheelchair, this is one of the thousand complications standing between his team and a rather lofty goal: upending the manual wheelchair marketplace.

If you’ve heard of Not a Wheelchair, it’s likely because of its owners, Zack Nelson, the star of the 8.8-million-subscriber YouTube channel JerryRigEverything, and his wife Cambry, a para and manual wheelchair user. The Nelsons got into the mobility equipment business a few years ago when they released The Rig, an electric, adaptive off-road device with a simple yet robust and functional design priced significantly lower than anything else on the market. Now, they’re bringing that same ethos to manual wheelchairs.

Not a Wheelchair aims to offer a base-model, custom manual wheelchair at a similar or better quality than most of the insurance-approved wheelchairs in the U.S. for $999.

Yes, that’s just under $1,000 for everything — wheels, handrims, tires, side guards and rigid, angle-adjustable backrest included. And the company plans to have a turnaround time of weeks, rather than the monthslong slog that it typically takes from order to delivery.

When I first heard about this, it sounded awesome and a bit far-fetched. It’s hard to find a pair of quality wheelchair wheels for less than $500. Same with a rigid backrest. How were they going to offer both, plus a custom wheelchair frame without compromising on quality? I drove to their headquarters in Utah to find out...

So how does Not a Wheelchair’s base model chair stack up to other options on the market? I hate to sound like a preacher, but … it’s totally reasonable! It hits the mark of being at least as good, if not better, than the majority of insurance-approved wheelchairs in the U.S.

Touring the factory, I saw other prototypes scattered all around the facility. There’s a beefier, four-wheel drive version of The Rig that the company just launched. There’s a track wheelchair that’s still in development. It’s clear that Not a Wheelchair doesn’t intend to stop at a simple, manual wheelchair. Inexpensive components, more advanced electric off-road devices, power assist, it’s all on the table. “We’re just really excited to see where this leads,” says Green."

-Article and video via New Mobility, October 1, 2024

[yasministration]

A motherly visit - son!harry potter

summary: when harry sends you another owl claiming that professor snape has it out for him, you decide to pay them a short visit wc: 1.5k+

Irritation flooded through yours veins, your eye nearly twitching with annoyance as you read through Harry’s letter. Once again, your son had been unfairly treated by his Potions teacher, graded lower on his exams and essays than he deserved. Your chair scraped loudly on the floor of your potions lab as you pushed it out from under your desk, grabbing your coat as you made your way to the fireplace in your office.

You wiped down your clean hands on the soft fabric of your coat before grabbing a handful of floo powder and travelling to Professor McGonagall’s office. As the green flames died away, revealing your confident stance, Professor McGonagall blinked slowly, only mildly surprised to find you in her office. “I need to find my son so we can have a chat with Professor Snape.” The older woman opened her mouth to reply, but you were already walking out of her office. She sighed, leaving you to your own devices in the rogue hallways of the Hogwarts castle.

Luckily for you, a loud call of “Mum!” had you stopping in your tracks and spinning on the balls of your feet to see Harry jogging towards you, his book bag flapping uncontrollably at his side. Harry gripped the strap of his back, holding it snugly against his jumper clad chest as he ran towards you with a smile. Ron and Hermione immediately quickened their pace to catch up with their friend, who threw his arms out to engulf you in a tight hug.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You mumbled, lips pressed against Harry’s forehead as you wrapped your arms around him. “What are you doing here?” He questioned excitedly, adjusting his glasses in a way that instantly reminded you of your husband. “I got your letter.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “I sent you that like an hour ago!”

“And I’m sick of hearing about how your incompetent Professor keeps poorly grading your papers, which I know deserve higher grades on.” You huffed angrily, putting both your hands on your hips. “You have your papers on you, don’t you?” Harry nodded, immediately ruffling through his book bag. You winced at the sight of loose papers in the bag but looked away, instead busying yourself by greeting your son’s two best friends. Harry made a noise of achievement as he pulled out two separate stacks of papers, presenting them to you with a smile. You scanned through them quickly as he explained “That’s my essay on the uses of mandrake plants in advanced potion making, and then that’s our most recent end of unit test.” “Well, come along then, Harry.”

“Mum, I’ve got a lesson now.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure your Professor will understand I’m on a time crunch.” Your heels clicked loudly against the concrete floors, heads of students turning to look at you curiously. That would probably be one of two reasons: 1. You were a parent who had no business currently being at Hogwarts. 2. You were the most successful potioneer of your generation, specialising in poisons and their remedies, with a success so prominent that every potions student in Year 5 and above stared at your name on the cover of their potions textbooks every time they used it.

The chilly atmosphere of the dungeon welcomed you as you made a beeline to the potions classroom. Harry’s thoughts were racing as he tried predicting what you were going to tell Professor Snape, holding your son’s exam papers in hand.

Luckily for you, Snape had just exited his classroom, opening his mouth to let his students into the dark room, when he spotted you. His eyes were immediately clouded with annoyance, but something else lingered in his gaze. “Snape,” You started, glancing at the group of students waiting to be called into their classrooms. “I suggest you give your students a free period. We have things to discuss.” You didn’t wait for Snape to respond, pushing past him to walk into his classroom. You settled your things down on a table near Snape’s desk, standing up behind the uncomfortable stools. “Take a seat, sweetheart.” Harry smiled gently as you returned your gaze to him, eyes softening as they took him in. You pushed a rogue strand of hair away from his face before turning around to meet Snape’s eye as he trudged towards you.

“You realise it’s been almost twenty years, right?” Harry wasn’t expecting those to be your first words. “So I suggest you get over your little crush on me and your hatred towards my husband, because my son is facing the consequences of your feelings.” Harry gasped at the revelation, his eyes wide with shock. He pursed his lips suddenly to suppress his laughter.

Snape hated him because he was jealous of Harry’s father?

You turned over Harry’s papers to face the Professor. “Look me in the eye and tell me you believe these deserve a Poor.” Snape looked up, making solid eye contact with you, though he didn’t say anything. “Y/N-” “It’s Mrs. Potter to you, Snape.”

The long-haired Professor inhaled deeply. “Mrs. Potter, I strongly believe that your son’s papers deserve the grades they were awarded.” You hummed, entirely unconvinced. Pushing Harry’s essay to the side, you flipped his exam paper open. “Then we seriously need to question your teaching. Green pen, please.” Snape grumbled quietly as he stood up walking to his desk to retrieve a green pen for you, placing it in your extended hand.

“Let’s see.” You spoke under your breath, moving around the table to stand next to Snape. The next few minutes were dreadfully tense for Harry, watching as Snape spent most of the time looking at the side of your face rather than the paper, where you were adding small check marks next to Harry’s answers. When you reached the end of the paper, you flicked back to the beginning, counting the marks in a quiet whisper.

“You’ve given my son an 18/50. The mark he should have gotten is a 39. Not an outstanding by any means, but still two entire grades above the one you gave him.” Harry swallowed thickly as you spoke, crossing your arms over your chest whilst you stared down Professor Snape.

“Keep up with this prejudice against my son and I promise, you will come out of a job.” Snape scoffed, finally saying “You act as though anyone will take your word over mine.” Your genuine laugh surprised Harry. “You can stop pretending you think they’ll choose you over me. We both know Professor Dumbledore has been begging me to take this position for, what, four years now?” All colour drained from Professor Snape’s face as you revealed that information. You walked around the hopeless professor to place a hand on your son’s shoulder.

“Who knows, maybe next year I’ll take his offer?” You leaned closer to Professor Snape, bringing your voice down to a whisper. “If I don’t hear that you’ve changed my son’s grade by tomorrow, I promise, worse things will happen to you than losing your job." You straightened up, clearing your throat before adding "Who knows, maybe I’ll even send my husband to visit you.”

Harry revelled in the way Snape shuddered at the mention of his father. He didn’t bother hiding his smile at Snape’s reaction to your friendly threat, holding his hand out for you to hold as you gathered your things. You took Harry’s hand, guiding him out of the room with a satisfied smile. “Is it true they asked you to come work here?” You nodded with a hum.

“Why didn’t you take the offer?” You turned to look at Harry’s hopeful eyes, furrowing your eyebrows. “I didn’t want to be invasive. I mean, I know for a fact I wouldn’t have wanted my parents to hear every rumour that was spread, or know every time I got into trouble. That would be inevitable if I worked here, and, you know, I want you to have some freedom.”

“Well, what if you came next year?” You stopped in your tracks at Harry’s question, turning to look at him properly. “You know, it’ll be my last year, so I’d have had my freedom, and you’ll be a great teacher for everyone. And I guess it would be nice having you around.” Harry’s cheeks were flushed pink and your heart warmed as you realised the true reason for his request. He missed you and his dad.

“Okay.”

“Okay!?” Harry jumped up at your agreement, laughing joyously. “But!” “But?” Harry echoed, sounding slightly horrified. “I’ll still live at home. I won’t stay here overnight like some Professors do. We’re just one apparation from home anyway. But I guess I’ll stay here until late afternoon if I have to mark papers.” Harry grinned, throwing his arms around your shoulders to bring you into a tight hug. You laughed, eyes widening as you realised he was looming over you despite the heels you wore. “Harry, honey, you are getting too tall.” The boy shrugged as he let go of you. “Madame Pomfrey said I’m still growing. I’ve still got a couple of inches ‘til I catch up to dad anyway.”

“He won’t be too happy about that, but the two of you can argue about it at dinner tomorrow, yeah? I’ll send McGonagall an owl to let her know. Just come by using floo.”

“Ooh and can we play a game of Quidditch after?”

“Only if you’re willing to lose.”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @boromoony, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin

[deepspace-scenarios]

[scenario/drabble] Muscle Pain Relief

LIs react when you experience muscle aches from exercising. They tend to your pain and get just the tiniest bit side-tracked. Genre: fluff; Tw: suggestiveness (a lot of it)

SYLUS

"Really now? A trial class at the gym did this? I thought you'd be more resilient." Sylus smirks as you groan, his fingers pressing into a particularly stubborn knot between your shoulder blades.

You glare over your shoulder. "I am. I just got too ambitious and chose the advanced class,"

"Mhm." He flicks on a sleek massage device, its hum quickly soothing the pain, making you sigh and melt against the pleasant sensation.

The device stops.

He chuckles when you let out a disappointed whine. “Ambition comes at a cost. But I'll gladly help you repay it,”

His free hand massages your shoulder, then he traces the curve of your neck lightly with his finger, trailing near your collarbones.

The moment his finger dips under your collarbone, you hiss, jerking away from his touch- just to collide backwards into his chest.

“Does it hurt, or were you just… sensitive?" He asks, voice low and the slightest bit rougher.

“Hurts,"You grumble.

That workout did a number on your pectorals- you had no idea the chest muscle would be connected all the way to your stupid collarbone.

Sylus, on the other hand, seems to be having the time of his life.

You feel him press a kiss to your shoulder, then you neck-

“I'll take your word for it, Miss Hunter,"he says lightly, but with the way his breath fans across your skin and how his fingers trace feather-light circles at the skin below your collarbones, his free hand gripping your waist just a bit tighter- you know he has more on his mind. And so do you, because the air feels electrified, warm and dark with anticipated promises.

“Excuse you, Mr Physio," you fire back weakly, “This isn't the service I was promised,”

"Patience," he purrs, watching your frustration with amusement. "You will be granted everything you requested for… if you tell me everything that's going on in that pretty little head of yours right now,"

Your face flushes red. What an absolute, infuriating tease.

“I will... if you tell me what's on your mind too,”

“Negotiating now, kitten?” He says with a chuckle. “How about I show you?”

___

XAVIER

You all but collapse onto the bed after your shower, the accumulated fatigue from work and an intense stress-relief gym session feeling like a crate of sandbags on your shoulders.

You lie belly-down and prop your chin on your forearms, then immediately regretting the motion when you feel the muscle ache radiate through your upper back.

“Ow,” you mumble into the blanket under you.

Chirpy music comes to a halt when Xavier pauses his game, tossing his phone to one side.

“What's wrong?” He says, voice laced with concern.

You turn your head to look at him. “Just… the gym. No Wanderers to blame this time.”

"You pushed yourself hard today," Xavier murmurs, his palms warm against your sore shoulders. "It’s admirable… but let me ease the aftermath."

You go limp under his gentle touch, his thumbs circling the tension with just enough pressure. "Mmm… how are you this good at this?"

"Practice," he says innocently- but then his fingers dip under your shirt and inch up your back. "Though this… is purely self-indulgent."

“Xavi-”

“Hmm?” His hands smoothly trace your shoulder blades, following the groove until they're tracing down, all the way down to the small of your back.

Your breath hitches. He smiles, slow and knowing.

"Shh," he whispers, lips grazing your ear as he gently presses on sore muscles. "I will only ease your discomfort tonight. I won't get greedy. But once you’re recovered… I’ll show you other ways to relax after training,”

___

ZAYNE

Over dessert, you mentioned casually that your muscle pain onset was quicker than usual. Zayne nodded, and the night seemed to continue as usual.

That is, until you struggle to change into loungewear at home.

The act of taking your t-shirt off made your muscles protest, and once you wrestled it off, you picked a flannel, because to hell with anything that needed you to raise your arms higher than your shoulder.

Zayne, ever the observant lover, interrogated you for the odd choice of clothing.

A few moments later, you sit at the side of the bed while he kneels on the mattress behind you.

Zayne’s examination is brusque with efficiency- fingers prodding, joints tested. "Minor strain. Temporary pain is expected, but nothing crippling."

You pout. "Wow. Such clinical precision."

"I’m a surgeon, not a physio," he deadpans, but moves to retrieve a pain-relief cream anyway.

“May I-?” He asks softly, uncapping the bottle.

You nod, his question innocent and practical, but the implication of being under his watchful gaze as you unbutton your shirt makes your face heat up.

His touch is meticulous, smoothing the gel over your skin with unexpected tenderness.

Your heart skips, fluttering warmth spreading through your chest. It's nice when Zayne takes care of you like this.

And thank heavens you're not going through a cardiac assessment right now, because you'd be mortified at the stats- and Zayne would be equal parts amused and exasperated.

When you sigh, his fingers stutter. "…Does that hurt?"

"No," you murmur, locking eyes with him. "Feels good."

You see a familiar hunger seep into his eyes, and he looks away. "Don’t- don’t say it like that."

“What?” You ask coyly, tracing his jaw and feeling him lean subtly into your touch.

He exhales through his nose, calm, measured. Like he's trying to stop himself from unravelling.

He catches your hand and threads your fingers together. “At least let me take care of you first, before you continue with your mischief,”

Knowing Zayne, that in itself is both a permission and a promise.

___

RAFAYEL

It was a mistake to stretch, the familiar motion- or attempt at raising your arms high above your head.

You're now at the mercy of all the tight knots in your body drilling pain into your soul.

Rafayel, of course, notices immediately and ushers you into his room in a flurry of questions, prodding, and nuzzles (“my cutie deserves a spa treatment for training so hard today!”)

And so, here you are, in Rafayel's ornately decorated ensuite bathroom.

"Magnesium salt! Magic for muscles!" Rafayel says excitedly, dumping a suspicious amount into the steaming bath. "Trust me, Miss Bodyguard. I’m an artist- we invented suffering for our craft!"

Rafayel then drizzles lavender oil into the bath.

"This’ll make you glow like… like a bioluminescent jellyfish," he declares, pushing up the sleeve of his bathrobe and testing the water with his elbow.

Seeming satisfied, he offers you a hand. "Your magical healing bath awaits,"

You eye the water warily. "It won’t turn me purple, right?"

"Pfft. I wish it really did that. I'd even want to create a bath that gives you a beautiful iridescent glow, my cutie. But, until I figure out how to do that, it is only pleasantly scented mineral water,"

He guides you in, "Now relax.”

The moment you sink in, he gasps, "Wait-! I forgot something-”

Before you can turn your head, he’s shrugging off the bathrobe. And then you yelp- he joins you, towel barely clinging to his hips once he lowers himself into the bath behind you. "Raf- why are you in here?!"

"Can't forget me, your favourite fishie," He beams at you and splashes lazily. "…Also, it's easier to give you a massage this way."

His hand finds your shoulders, and as you melt into his gentle massages, you realise- he does have a knack for all things involving self-care and pampering, and he is never frugal about it when it comes to you.

___

CALEB

You know he rushed back from work once he saw you text him a few complaints about your aching muscles, because he’s still wearing the pressed white shirt that he usually layers under the colonel jacket. Normally, he’d change into a tee before heading home.

He’s seated you on the yoga mat, and you’re watching some home renovation show on the TV while Caleb manoeuvres your arms. A semi-permanent grimace is etched on your face from the sore muscle groups being recruited into unwanted movements.

“Focus, pipsqueak. Stop holding your breath,”

Caleb’s hands are firm, guiding you through stretches designed for fleet pilots to enhance post-mission recovery.

"Next part’s gonna hurt," he warns. "But it’ll help. Breathe through it."

You whimper as he presses into your shoulder deeper- and instantly, his grip loosens. "Too much?"

"Nuh-No, just… intense."

His ears redden at your breathy tone. "You- uh- gotta stop making those noises."

You grin at how flustered he looks. "Or what?"

“Or else,” He corrects, his expression morphing into one that foreshadows breathy whispers and heated touches that leave you shaking.

A hand tips your chin up, and his lips graze your earlobe.

“Or else- I won’t be able to hold back, and you won’t be able to handle it, not in your state,”

“Caleb- aha.. Ha, I know. I’m just- just kidding,” you breathe, cheeks bright red.

“Of course you are,” he says, voice low as he continues with the massage. “Now stay still for me.”

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 9 - Déjà vu

CW: dead dove don't eat, torture, death, suicidal thoughts.

The playlist I have been writing to for this series is here!

Previous parts - masterlist - next

This is real, but it doesn’t feel real. Your breathing picks up, your heart is thumping in your chest. You try to remember the techniques your therapist taught you for avoiding a panic attack. 

This is real though, you’re not fighting against your subconscious and memories, this isn’t like the flashbacks you get in the shower.

This is real.

You’re still in the dark, maybe that's on purpose, maybe it's already started, the psychological torture. Keeping you in the closest thing to a sensory deprivation room. You don’t bother trying to keep track of time. They don’t bring you food or water, you can’t hear anything on the other side of the walls, it’s just you and your thoughts. 

Someone comes to collect you, slapping cuffs back on and walking you down a windowless corridor into a brightly lit room with a table bolted to the floor and chairs on either side. He shoves you down into a chair, there’s a large one way window in the room, on this side you can only see your reflection. 

You expect the soldier to tie your hands to the table or the chairs. He doesn’t though, he takes the cuffs and leaves. You’re alone now, you hear the door lock, not like you were going to run anyway. You’re not waiting too long before the door opens again.

Philip Graves walks in, you’ve only run into him a few times, he doesn’t look any different from what you remember. You straighten up in your chair, he walks over to the other side of the table. He has a folder tucked under his arm and two cups, one in each hand. 

“I didn’t know how you took it. Milk and sugar?” He asks as he puts one of the cups in front of you. You ignore him looking behind him at the one way glass. You wonder if they’re watching; John or Johnny, maybe even kyle. 

Graves puts the folder down on the table and sits down. 

There’s nothing they can do. It was days before Laswell managed to exonerate you before, you have a feeling this time it’s going to be different. 

“It surprised me when I heard 141 were getting a medic.” He leans back in his chair sipping his coffee. “How many times have you had to pull them out of the field for some dumb shit?” 

You stay silent. 

“Well, I always knew they would ruin every nice thing they get.” He chuckles, it makes you feel sick.

God you hate him. Good, at least when he hurts you it won't be as painful. You don’t have to worry about moving on without him, forgiving him. You can spend the rest of your life hating him for what he’s going to do. 

“Your personal devices are being checked. Want to let us know in advance if we will find anything?” He says, raising an eyebrow. Your stomach twists, they’ll find nudes pictures you sent to tease them before everything fell apart. You haven’t been able to bring yourself to look at them let alone get rid of them.

You stare him down until just sighs and takes another drink of his coffee. 

“I respect you, you’ve been here before and you’re still so.. put together.” He leans forward studying your face. “How do you do it? I would love to give some tips to my men.” 

It feels like a pathetic attempt to get you to lower your defences; make you think you’re the one with the power. You’re not going to say anything, not until he forces you, and even then you’re not going to make it easy for him. You’ve had your time to panic, you’ve had your time to cry, now it’s your time to fight.

You tune out Graves as he batters you with questions you ignore, you don’t want to build rapport with him. Instead you end up looking past him at the one way window in the room. You never got a chance to tell John you forgave him, maybe he’s watching, maybe he’s not, you don’t know what's worse. 

You don't know if Simon is okay, if he’s out of surgery or if he’s stable. That makes you sad, you hope he survives, a few months ago you wouldn’t have had the strength to push gauze in his wounds if he was bleeding out. Now you can’t stand the thought of him not being around. 

Your therapist was right, even though you didn’t believe it during your sessions, you feel stronger, brave. You worked the trauma into something positive, you forgave the people you love, the people you hurt you. You close your eyes letting out a breath, you remember the first day you were in the house you all bought. 

The kitchen was being renovated, the place was empty, all there was was a single mattress on the living room floor. That's all you needed apparently, that and takeaway, it was a good night. Even though the acoustics of the empty house were less than ideal, you had some really good sex, then you fell asleep in someone's arms. 

A knock on the door snaps you out of your thoughts, you look up at Graves who’s demeanor has changed. Maybe he’s bored of you ignoring him. He gets up and goes over to open it. He blocks the door, you try to look but you can’t see. You can’t make out what he’s saying either. 

When the door closes the mood in the room is different. Graves comes over and puts your phone on the table in between you both. He doesn’t sit down. 

“What do you think we found?”

You look up at him blinking. You won’t break this easily.

“It will be easier if you talk.” 

You hold your ground. There is nothing incriminating on your phone, on any of your devices. He crosses his arms. 

“I didn’t expect you of all people to be the one attempting to take out 141 twice.” He scoffs. “I can’t fault your dedication. But here’s the thing, you stepped on the toes of someone you probably didn’t mean to. Now we need to find out what you know.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him. He lets out a huff pressing his lips together. 

“Andrei Nolan, ring a bell?” You try so hard not to react, you can feel your jaw clenching though. Graves reaches over and picks up the folder. He flicks through it until he finds what he’s looking for, he throws one of the CCTV snapshots on the table. You don’t even need to lean forward to look, you know it's the same ones John showed you months ago. 

It’s happening again, John and Simon didn’t believe you when you were screaming and begging at them. You have a feeling Graves gives less of a fuck. 

“This really doesn’t have to be hard.” He puts the folder down bracing on the table, his arms spread apart. He studies you for a reaction you unclench your jaw keeping eye contact with him. He stands up striding round the table to stand next to you. You don’t move, keeping your eyes looking at yourself in the mirrored window.

“Your life is about to get extremely uncomfortable extremely quickly if you don’t cooperate.” His breath is hot on your ear, his voice low as he grits his teeth. “You think 141 were bad, you haven't seen anything yet. You should really think hard about how you want to continue these little talks.”  

His fingers are gripping your arms as he pulls you to your feet. He knees your thighs forcing you to bend over the table as he pulls your wrists into cuffs. Your heart rate picks up again, he's dragging you back to your cell. He throws you in without taking the cuffs off. You stubble against the metal bed, the door is slammed closed. Your arms are stuck behind your back as you steady yourself the best you can. 

You let out a grunt sitting down on the floor as the lights go off again. 

You’re not going to let them break you.

…

This time it’s harder. That surprises you. 

You don’t get to sleep, you can’t keep track of time, they don’t bring you food or water. Everytime you’re about to nod off or get comfy you're dragged out of your cell into the same blindingly bright room. The torture hasn’t started quite yet, Graves just shouts at you, his voice going horse after a few hours. 

You don’t say a word. 

Your body is exhausted, you have no idea how long it has been. One day at least, Graves took a shower. You could see his ruffled hair groomed, he smelt of the shitty base soap. 

“141 may have believed your bullshit but I don’t buy it for a second!” He shouts, slamming his hand down on the metal table. It’s been another long session, your head is swimming, your body is feeling weak, you could use some food, or a sleep. At least 141 kept you fed and let you get some sleep.

Graves comes over to you yanking your hair forcing your head to look straight. His grip is tight causing you to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palm. It’s the first time he’s been physical with you. 

“Lieutenant Riley is dead.” It’s like a punch to the gut. Your eyes widen, your breathing stops. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick, your head swims. No. he can’t be dead. 

“You did that. You killed him.” He points in the mirror. Your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes. He grips your hair tighter as he throws your head forward. Your neck pops, you look down at your knees, tears falling on your pants. 

He can’t be dead. 

You don’t move, you don’t listen to Graves, just let the silent tears come, being the only outlet for the pain in your heart. You never got to tell him you forgave him, you never saw him smile one last time. You never got to tell him you love him. Now he’s gone and that's all your fault.  

Arms grab you pulling you out the chair, you don’t fight them, you don’t have the strength, you don’t care. You expect to be taken back to your cell. Instead you’re taken to another room, a new room. There’s a table and a chair, you sniff looking around as Graves takes you over to the table. 

Another person walks into the room. You see a tray with some tools on it, a bucket with clothes soaking inside. You know where this is going and you don't care. Let them drown you, let them hurt you, you deserve all of this. 

You should have been there, you should have saved him. 

The other man is bigger than Graves, he manhandles you, your body is almost betraying you fighting against their grip. Something deep inside you knows what's about to happen and wants to fight. You end up slipping from Graves grip and falling to your knees. It’s not long before there is another person in the room. More hands on you.

Panic rises in you adrenaline pumping through your veins, your sadness has turned to anger, your fight or flight has kicked in and you’re choosing to fight. You scratch and kick, screaming at the top of your lungs until your throat is sore. It doesn’t matter though there are too many people, you don’t have the energy to fight them, even with the boost of adrenaline.

You’re picked up, your body slammed hard on the metal table, it’s cold, your ankles and wrists are cuffed. You can’t move or fight anymore. You look up watching everyone but graves leave the room. He grips your head pulling it down, it slams hard against the table making your ears ring. 

“I really didn’t want it to turn out like this.” He says, he sounds sympathetic. It’s bullshit. Your breathing is rapid; it feels like you can't breathe, your fingers tingle as Graves leaves your side. You hear the running of a tap, the sloshing of water.  

“How long did you last last time? A day? Two?” The door opens and another person comes in. You don’t bother looking, just stare at the fluorescent light on the ceiling. It stings your already raw eyes. “I bet we can do better.” 

You feel like you can hear a chuckle in his voice. The wet rag comes over your nose and mouth, you flick your eyes back to Graves standing above you. There’s a smile on his face, he’s enjoying this. 

You squeeze your eyes closed wishing you were anywhere else as cold water is poured over your face. 

next

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[cirqosmos]

broken lipstick. yjw

2024 | 16+ | ONESHOT 1.8K. | G-yandere; W-obsession, possessive, unhinged jungwon lol, forced kissing with lipstick yes.

DIRECTOR's CUT, found an old note of ideas in my phone from 2022 about jungwon × lipsticks, and thought that it would be a pity to not write about it so here it is. this is kind of like an experimental storytelling, just finding my way with the rhythm and pacing of the words, sentences, and grammar. so if it kinda sounds weird, apologies in advance lol !

finding yourself trapped in this world he created for you drives you terribly insane.

down, and down you go.

every words he spills—he claims that he had spent hours and days of effort for this room, curating it just how you would like it; makeup palettes and brushes, lipsticks, magazines, jewelries, pretty and dainty sundresses, coquettish bows and laces perfectly matching your taste.

everything single thing before you—was all you've ever dreamt for, wished for, manifested for. bare skin planted firmly on this king-sized bed you've listed as one of your life wishes, wrists and necks adorned with saccharine gemstones—ones you've often seen on magazines.

every single damn thing was here.

he claims that he did it because he wishes nothing but to see the finest shade of happiness be illustrated on your visage; for bliss and satisfaction weaved under the strings of fairy tales, you shall wish nothing more but to remain abode.

yes, it is an exact replica of your dream room yet a lot more bigger, lavish, but certainly not home. a doll house would be a much better, fitting term. or perhaps, a prison—masquerade as the definition of your perfect little utopia.

his eyebrows knitted at the way you worded it, saying that such comparison is absurd, and certainly is not the truth. for all that was before you, is all yours to take—and so is he.

all yours to take, he says.

but if it was yours, then why can't you wear all it outside? has he ever thought that all these things is fucking useless if you can't even bring it with you out of this sickening room? what's all these even for, you asks. he replies with that same sickening smile, "why, silly, of course it's for you."

you repeated it with spite, "no, this is not for me. you're doing this for you."

"if you say so," he brought his finger against your cheek, stroking it ever so sickeningly, causing you to lean away. "you're my priority here, your wants and needs are at the best interest of my heart. nothing more, nothing less."

it didn't miss your eyes how his composed visage falters ever so slightly, so subtle—it almost slips away from your fingers but you saw it and you didn't care.

his soul, you despises—every word etched of his existence, you loathed. death shall greet him, and you'd never spare a glance.

why would you? when just a month ago, a world filled with the brightest prospects was all waiting for you, but his grim arrival dims every glowing lantern ahead of your path, ultimately sealing the door to your future tight and begone.

akin to a rat in a trap under a cat's claws; your sanity wilting with each passing day. how many days or months has it been? you lose track of time. where is your phone, even? oh why, he asks? books and magazines was what you'd prefer over some petty little devices, so why would you need them now?

rage, despair, helplessness; you released all these pent-up frustration with each object you slammed against the floor, scattered about in a hazard mess. broken, shattered in pieces like you do. he should see it, feel it, of how his own hard work are gone into the drain, like what he had put you into.

footsteps approaching from the distance.

the door flew open, just like how he often appears, ruining every single opportunity you had back then. he appears too composed, inexplicably unfazed at the ravage scene before his eyes. his own efforts obliterated into nothing, every single thing he spent time on perfecting was wasted, in downright shambles.

you drop on your knees, suppressing your sobs as he approaches with small steps.

it was all too silent, with only your shaky gasps blending with the solemn air. with your head down, eyes locked against the wooden floor, and on your clenched fists shaking with grueling anticipation, you glance nervously at how he stands so still—staring down at you like you were an object.

you wish he just would kill you right now.

in your peripherals, however, you caught the sight of his fingers grabbing the tossed lipstick, now broken in half—it's smoothened tip now uneven. you waited for him to say something, perhaps throw profanities at you for ruining this dollhouse he had spent hours and days at.

grow mad at me, hate me, and then throw me away. in your head, you chanted these words—prayers it ultimately morphs into.

however a gasp spills out of your lips, your breath caught at the back of your throat upon seeing him applying the lipstick on his lips, still and all—while humming a melodic tune as he does so.

"is this how you do it?"

you didn't answer, only imbued with aghast at the deep shade of crimson hugging his lips. as peculiar as it may seem, you can't deny that this visage of his perfectly adorns it.

he steps closer, alarming you—manifesting straight to your eyes widening in sheer panic.

with strong arms, jungwon catches your legs before you could push him away, pulling you closer where he forces you to face him, gripping your jaw so tight and suffocatingly so into his well of eyes; with it's depths you could never fathom till your last breath.

yet he begs you to drown in them, to answer all the questions written all over within—what's so fucking wrong to just stay obedient, and be his oh so sweet darling? why can't you see his love and dedication for you? of how he's ready to give up everything for you?

maybe a slap to your pretty face would tighten the screw in your head a little, or perhaps a yell pulled out from his throat would do the trick, but oh darling—profanities don't suit you, nor does it do you justice to be treated so harshly.

fragile you are, and such a fragile one should be nested, sheltered away from this merciless world. you do not need to lift a finger, or tire your pretty little head over useless things but..

but why is it that you refuse to understand him?

evident it was, through the way you dug your nails on his hands, imbuing your ever growing hatred to him. not a single word spoken, nor spitting at each other but through your eyes—your rampant wishes of spitting him death grows enormous.

die, die, just die.

you held your breath, as a stroke of his finger on your temple—slides down your cheek. a grimace takes form on your feature as he leans in, propelling your body to fight harder against his—though, he remains stronger and faster—pouncing on you like a prey, diving in with his venom-laced fangs into your lips, forcefully so.

his carnal desires takes form across your visage; smudged, blotted, and smeared. a shade so intensified through his vows to make you understand his perception of love.

they say that love is patient, love is kind, love is forgiving.

no, that's bullshit. it's fucking slippery, a mess, metallic taste leaking out from your lip—spilling into his tongue, only for him to hum in frenzied delight. a taste so sweet, so divine, like caramel melting in his cavern.

tilting his head sideways—his tongue went further into yours, twisting and knotting like wet fabric—pooling an amalgamation of saliva, blood, and lipstick down the corner of your mouth. sticky palms on the back of your neck, spiralling you down and down into these candied greed.

heat, searing, throbbing immensely—this pain, do you understand it now? that's how his heart mourns towards your ungratefeful, petty actions. have you perhaps realise it? maybe not yet, as you still had this little fight in you, a funny sight to behold.

your head spins, flashing in mismatched colors, jaw throbbing by his gracious mouth of flames—infiltrating every corner.

soaking everything in you with his relentless rhythm—a pace you could never match as it accelerates beyond what you can take with each second. his lips, like a paint brush—and you, like a paper being crumpled into every way possible. moulding your speech into incoherent sentences, strings of pathetic cries for help drowned out into the void, your prayers to god himself had been engulfed by a devil's kiss.

what's a god, even? they say humans are made in the image of god, but he dare say that not even god are comparable to you, nor those who reign above the heavens—angels, sirens, succubus or whatever the hell are there—your feet they shall kiss.

a canvas you are—pure, and untainted. a masterpiece in the making, not even the greatest artist known to mankind could do justice to your beauty.

you're his haven, his abode. yet also a temptation, a sin, his inferno. every edge of your portrait tweaked perfectly into his own ideals and fantasies, yet also a curse, the poisonous bane of his life, so toxic—it contaminates his soul.

decaying, decomposing—perhaps he was the serpent, and you're the tenant of the garden. insatiable, the apple of eden couldn't be as mouthwatering as your visage.

so why, can't you understand his love?

if you couldn't see it before, then he'll make sure you'll see it now.

dragging you across the floor, jungwon forces you to meet your reflection in the shattered mirror. on your knees, you met this drowned out visage of yours, all visible for you to observe; disheveled hair, your cheeks bathed in intense shades of red, all the same to your neck and shoulders, lips swollen with a visible cut, drenched in all his unspoken words. a mess, you are.

his pretty little mess.

yet what a masterpiece you are, still. he coos with lips pursing up in a sweetened grin, as if he had sucked out all remaining little bits inside your little jar of hope. do you see it now? how every part of you belongs to him, all for his lips to take and taste.

"you look even prettier, all broken like this." jungwon isn't very much different, but while you look like a corpse bludgeoned into mayhem. the image he bears was of a bloodthirsty demon, an animalistic abstraction.

through the mirror, you could see him shuffling around—looking for something amongst the mess, only for the same lipstick he used as an instrument for this macabre play—returning to his palms.

with him back to your side, he delivered a stroke down your hair, tucking your locks behind your ear. a chin he places on your shoulder, one hand under your tummy and the other looped around your shoulder to reach for your lips.

the same broken lipstick, made its way on your lower lip. a shade so deep, so heavy, amplified by his twisted affection. all dolled up for only his eyes to see. your luscious hair—inviting him closer and closer, savoring the way it hugs his fingers. too delicate, the broken mirror could only shy away from you.

"mirror, mirror on the wall," the lipstick tossed on the floor, replaced by his thumb lapping your lip. "who's the fairest of them all?"

© 2022-2024, pieroulette on [tumblr].

[cece693]

i need a will solace fic in your writing oh my days you write so good

If You Can Hear Me

pairing: will solance x male reader tags: you almost die, admitting feelings, will is on the verge of a panic attack, angst then fluff, but angst isn't that bad, I promise

You never expected to feel at home at Camp Half-Blood. Before your satyr guide found you and whisked you away, you spent your days stumbling through a series of close calls with monsters you didn’t fully believe in. Now, you’re a recognized camper, forging your own identity among children of gods and goddesses, brushing shoulders with legends-in-training.

Yet something—someone—stands out in your day-to-day life more than all the magic or swordplay ever could: Will Solace, son of Apollo, healing prodigy, a gentle flame of warmth in a place often fraught with danger. His sunny smiles and steady hands once drew you to the infirmary for the smallest bruise you could find an excuse for. But over time, it grew from a mild crush into something deeper you never quite had the courage to name.

Summer at Camp Half-Blood means bustling energy, from chariot races around the track to wild, chaotic capture-the-flag nights in the woods. But the major event currently on the horizon is the Summer Challenge—an advanced training exercise that blends elements of scavenger hunt, combat drills, and puzzle-solving. Every cabin has a part to play, and rumors fly that the Ares Cabin has a special “surprise” planned.

On the morning of the challenge, you’re summoned by Chiron to help finalize some last-minute preparations in the arena. You, Will, and a few others are to do a final walkthrough, checking safety wards and making sure the enchanted training dummies are programmed correctly. It’s supposed to be routine.

Will walks beside you, quiver slung casually over his shoulder and hair tousled by the light morning breeze. He flashes you a lopsided grin that sends your heart hammering. “Don’t look so nervous,” he says, noticing the tension in your stance. “We’ve done these checks a million times. And if anything unexpected does show up, you’ll handle it. You always do.”

You offer a wry smile. “I’ll try not to trip over my own sword this time.”

He laughs, bright and warm. “And if you do, I’m definitely blaming the Ares Cabin’s poor craftsmanship.”

The arena is alive with activity as teams set up. Stacks of foam-tipped arrows, wooden swords, and magical devices line the edges. Clarisse La Rue, decked out in her Ares armor, prowls around with a scrutinizing eye, barking orders to her siblings.

You and Will split up to check opposite sides of the arena’s boundary wards. You’ve almost completed your circuit when an alarmed shout echoes from across the field. At first, it’s unclear what’s happening—just a chorus of raised voices, the heavy clatter of weapons. Then someone screams, “Monster!”

Your gaze snaps toward the center of the arena. A shape unlike anything you’ve seen crawls into view, vile and twisted, like a Chimera that’s been cursed by some dark magic. Part lion, part venomous reptile, it exudes an aura of rot and malice. You see greenish-black vines wrapped around its body, pulsing eerily like they’re feeding on the creature’s rage.

Will sprints to your side, bow in hand. His eyes flash with concern. "We’ve got to stop it,” he says, notching an arrow. “Or at least contain it until Chiron and the others can evacuate the younger campers.”

You nod, setting your jaw. “Let’s do it.”

Chaos reigns as campers flee the stands in droves. A handful of brave souls remain to fight—yourself, Will, Clarisse, and a few from the Hermes Cabin. Amid the frenzy, you notice that the wards designed to keep monsters out must have been tampered with—this beast shouldn’t have been able to step foot in the arena.

Someone planned this. The thought chills your blood.

Each time the monster roars, those eerie vines tighten, like they’re drawing power from the terrified energy around them. Arrows from Will’s bow glance off the beast’s hide, and Clarisse’s strikes, though powerful, barely scratch its scaled sections. You flank it on the opposite side, heart hammering. Timing your approach, you hurl your weapon at a vulnerable spot. With a vicious swipe of its tail, the monster smashes your sword aside and lunges. You barely dodge in time, landing hard on your shoulder and rolling across the dirt.

From the corner of your eye, you see Will run forward, golden light flaring around his hands as he tries to shoot an energized arrow—one infused with Apollo’s power—straight into the monster’s flank. It hits with a flash, briefly knocking the creature back, but the vines seem to absorb much of the energy.

“That’s not good,” Will pants, darting closer to you. “We need a new plan.”

You start to push yourself up, ignoring the bruise forming under your gear. “We have to cut off whatever’s fueling it,” you say. “Those vines—maybe they’re what’s making it so strong.”

Another roar shakes the arena. The beast’s eyes flare with glowing malice as it charges you again. With no time to think, you throw yourself in its path to keep it from trampling a wounded camper behind you. For a split second, Will’s voice cuts through the noise. “Move!” he yells, horror etched on his face.

But you can’t. The monster’s claw descends, and a blinding pain ignites in your side. You feel warmth trickle down your ribs—your own blood. Then comes the swirling sensation of poison, or maybe some dark vine energy, seeping into your veins. Everything spins. Your vision narrows on Will’s face—pale, stricken. He’s sprinting toward you, calling your name. The last thing you see before the world fades is his trembling, outstretched hand.

You come to—barely—in the infirmary. At first, you think you’re fully passed out, because all you can see is darkness and distorted flashes of color. But your ears pick up something: Will’s voice, hushed and thick with emotion.

“…did everything I could,” he’s saying, voice trembling. “The poison is resisting normal healing.”

Someone murmurs a response, but you can’t make out the words. Footsteps fade, leaving Will alone at your bedside. In the fragile silence, you catch Will’s shaky breath. “Please,” he whispers, voice cracking. “Please wake up. I can’t lose you—I don’t want to lose you. Not when I…I feel like I’ve only just started to realize how much I…”

He trails off, as though the rest of the confession is too heavy to say aloud. But he tries again, determination in his tone:

“You mean everything to me. I can’t believe I waited this long to tell you. If you can hear me, if there’s any part of you listening right now... I—I love you. I’m sorry if that’s too much, but I can’t hold it in anymore.” He chokes out a bitter laugh, the sound tinged with tears. “I never had the nerve to say it while you were awake. Now I’m terrified you won’t wake up at all.”

Warmth flares against your side. Apollo’s healing energy, funneled through Will’s heartbreak and determination, spreads through your veins, battling the toxic magic. Little by little, it pushes back the darkness. You float between consciousness and oblivion for an indeterminate time, but slowly, Will’s healing works. The darkness recedes enough that you can feel the softness of the infirmary bed and smell the faint scent of ambrosia.

Your eyelids flutter open, revealing the bright interior of the Apollo Cabin’s medical ward. Will is there, perched on a wooden stool, head resting against his folded arms on the bed beside you. He looks utterly exhausted, but you notice his hand is clasped gently around yours.

You manage a weak croak. “Will…?”

He jolts upright, eyes wide. Instantly, his free hand goes to your forehead, checking your temperature. A tangled mix of relief and panic flits across his features. “Hey—hey, you’re back. Oh gods, don’t move too much yet.”

His gaze lingers on your face, like he can’t quite believe you’re awake. You offer a faint smile, ignoring the throbbing ache in your side. “That monster…?”

Will sighs, shoulders relaxing. “Destroyed. Clarisse and the others managed to sever those vines once we figured out the source of its power.”

You watch him closely, remembering fragments of what you heard while drifting in and out. The raw emotion in his voice, the words he spoke—it all left an imprint, burned into your memory despite the haze. “Will,” you say gently, “I…I heard you, I think. I’m not sure how much was real or a dream, but—”

His cheeks flush. He looks like he wants to sink through the floor. “Y-You heard that?”

You give his hand a squeeze, wincing at the slight pull of pain along your side. “Yes, I heard that you care about me. A lot. Maybe even love me. I—I wasn’t fully conscious, but that part kind of stuck.”

Will averts his gaze, teeth sinking into his lower lip. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability from him. “I didn’t mean to drop that on you while you were half-dead.”

A weak laugh escapes you. “Hey, could be worse. And for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you said it.” You shift, ignoring the dull throb of your wound. “I—I feel the same way. I just never knew if you’d be open to…well, this.”

He exhales shakily, relief flooding his features. When he looks at you again, it’s like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Your throat tightens, and you grip his hand like it’s the only thing holding you to this moment. “I think I do,” you whisper. “And now that I’m not dying, maybe we can talk about it more?”

Will’s laugh is damp at the corners, and he squeezes your hand back. “Yeah. We’ve got all the time in the world to figure this out—once you’re better.”

He rises from the stool, gently resting a hand on your cheek. “But first, you need rest. Let me handle the bandages and keep an eye on your vitals. No heroic stunts for a while, got it?”

You nod, feeling a flush creep up your face at his closeness. “Deal. As long as you promise not to wait until I’m comatose to talk about your feelings next time.”

His grin sparkles with that golden warmth you’ve come to adore. “I’ll do my best.”

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for wring amputees: its ok if your amputee can't repair their own prosthetics

There's a trope in fiction for amputees to always be these mechanical geniuses who can make and repair their own prosthetics, endlessly tinkering away and improving them. This isn't a particularly trope, and i dont think its harmful or anything, but in reality, prosthetics are REALLY, REALLY complicated, and a lot of amputees cant do their own repairs. And thats ok. Like, prosthetic creation and repair is way, way harder than I think people expect. Well outside the skillset of your standard mechanic, handy man or craftsperson.

People who make and repair prosthetics are called prosthetists. To become a prosthetist, most countries around the world today require you to have completed a bachelor's degree in specifically in prosthetics and orthotics, which covers not only how to make a prosthetics (and orthodics) but a great deal of medical knowledge, physics, how different forces impact "non-standard" bodies, the additional biological wear-and-tear that comes with being an amputee and so much more. This will qualify you to do the job of fitting/making the prosthetic socket (the part that attaches to your body) and putting premade components together to make a functioning device. On top of this, many prosthetists are also expected to have artistic skills, sewing skills, good physical strength and dexterity, IT skills, and more recently, knowledge of 3D modelling and printing.

You want to make all the high-tech components the prosthetists put together to make the full prosthetic? The requirements for that vary country to country, but most will require at least some level study in the field of engineering and/or medicine, on top of what was already required for the prosthetics course.

The reason for all this is because even "basic" prosthetics are extremely finicky, and messing up one thing will have a domino effect on the rest of the body, especially in more complicated prosthetics. It can also result in people getting severally injured if anything is even slightly off. many leg amputees for example end up with spinal issues due to extremely minor issues with their prosthetic that weren't caught until years later, and by then the damage had been done.

Some amputees do learn to do basic repairs. This is most common in places like the US, where a visit to the prosthetist can cost hundred to thousands of dollars (depending on your insurance), but it's also quite common in rural parts of countries like Australia, where cost isn't an issue but access is due to vast distances between major cities. I was personally in this category; as a kid, my nearest prosthetist was 6 hours away. My prosthetist was able to teach my dad, who later taught me, how to do some of the simple repairs, but we still needed to go in every few weeks for the more complex stuff (Kids prosthetic need more adjusting than adults because they're still growing. Also I was rough on my prosthetics and broke them a lot lol).

But even after being taught how to do repairs and having my prosthetics for 20+ years, I only ever did these sorts of repairs to my below-knee prosthetic. I will not do any repairs of any kind to my above knee leg, which is much more technologically complex. Every time I tried, I made it worse to the point where the leg was unusable. I just leave those repairs to the guy who went to university to learn how to do it, and sometimes even he needs to send it off to someone with even more specialist knowledge when it's really badly messed up lol. Last time that happened Australia post lost the package. Not really relevant to this post, I just find the idea of it being sent to the wrong place by accident hilarious, it was one of my more realistic legs too so someone probably had a heart attack when they opened that package lmao.

Anyway, back on track lol.

This isn't even touching on the fact that on some more advanced prosthetics, many features are actually locked behind a security barrier only prosthetists can access. My prosthetic knee has an app on my phone I can pair it to, that allows me to change certain settings and swap between certain modes for different activities that tell the leg to change its behaviour depending on what I'm doing (e.g. a mode for running, a mode for cycling etc). but most of the more in-depth settings I can't access, only my prosthetist can, and he can only gain access to those settings with a security key given to him by the manufacturing company that requires him to provide proof of his credentials to receive it. I don't really agree with this btw, something about being locked out of my own leg's settings makes me feel a bit of an ick, but it's set up like this because people used to be able to access these settings and they would mess with things to the point their leg was virtually unusable. Because altering one setting had a domino effect on all the others, and a lot of folks weren't really paying attention to what they were messing with, all their prosthetists could do was factory reset the whole leg, which causes some issues too. Prosthetic arms are often similarly complex, as I understand it and have similar security barriers in place for more advanced arms. I don't know for sure though, so take that with a grain of salt.

All this to say these are incredibly delicate, finicky and complex pieces of equipment. There's nothing wrong with having a techy amputee character who can do their own repairs, but in reality, that is pretty rare, and its ok to have your character need to see a prosthetist or someone more knowledgeable than them. It's a part of the amputee experience I don't see reflected very often in media. In fact, the only examples I can think of in fiction (meaning not stories based on real people) where this is reflected are Full metal alchemist.

technically I think Subnautica Below Zero also mentions prosthetists are a thing in that world, but its a very "blink and you'll miss it" kind of thing...in fact I did miss it until my last playthrough lol.

[gunsandspaceships]

Tony Stark’s achievements

Childhood:

“Brilliant and unique mind”

At age 4 built his first circuit board

At age 6 built his first engine

Cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a dare

Went to college at 14

Built cool smart robots (Dum-E and U) when he was a teen

At 17 graduated summa cum laude from MIT

Polyglot

Before Afghanistan:

“Da Vinci of our time”

Became an owner and CEO of Stark Industries at 21

Successfully ran the company for decades

Advanced the world of technology, not only in weaponry and robotics but also:

created advanced AI J.A.R.V.I.S.

created holographic interface technology

created repulsor technology

Participated in charity

In and after Afghanistan:

“I’m sorry, I’m not Tony Stark”

Survived an open-heart surgery in a cave, without general anesthesia

Lived with, in fact, a debilitating wound, shrapnel, and a huge and dangerous technological device in his body for years and was willing and capable of doing not only his usual work but also being a superhero and doing all these next things...

Did not give up under torture and fought with his captors

Invented and built a miniaturized Arc Reactor, in a cave, with a box of scraps

Invented and built Iron Man armor, in the same cave, with the same box of scraps

Escaped from captivity by himself (with help from Yinsen, but without any armed assistance)

Became an expert in piloting and driving

Saved people in Gulmira

Saved a USAF pilot

Probably the best hacker in the world, was able to easily hack networks of the Pentagon, US government, AIM, and SHIELD

Fought with Iron Monger after nearly died. Defeated him and saved many lives. Was ready to die for that

Built many more different Iron Man armors

Fought terrorists between IM and IM2 (IM2 tie-in comics)

Saved a submarine crew (IM2 - newspapers in Vanko’s home)

Saved a woman from a fire (IM2 - newspapers in Vanko’s home)

“Stabilized East-West relations” (IM2 - newspapers in Vanko’s home), so the world was “enjoying its longest period of uninterrupted peace in years”

Organized Stark Expo

Was able to keep Iron Man armor in his safe hands despite the government’s and HYDRA’s attempts to take it for themselves

Defeated Ivan Vanko in Monaco

(Re)Discovered a new element

 Synthesized it, by building a particle accelerator, at home

Revolutionized energy industry and science. Gave clean energy to the world

Defeated Vanko in New York with Rhodey, Natasha, and Pepper and saved many lives again

Saved Peter Parker (IM2)

Made it so that the Abomination would not leave prison and join the Avengers

Built Stark/Avengers Tower powered by Arc Reactor technology

Saved Steve Rogers and many civilians in Germany from Loki

Was able to fight with Thor on equal terms

Biggest brain on Earth, arguably - in the Universe:

best scientist on the team, in SHIELD, on Earth, in the Universe

expert in nuclear, particle, and quantum physics

was able to learn very quickly – became an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics in one night

Successfully tracked Tesseract by its gamma radiation with Bruce

Saved Helicarrier with the Avengers and SHIELD agents on board, almost died

Saved Rogers from a merc right after that

Fought with Chitauri, killed many of them, saved a lot of people

Was able to blow up a Leviathan by himself

Saved New York City by redirecting a nuke to the wormhole

Saved the world by destroying Thanos’ Chitauri army, almost died again

Founded The United States Department of Damage Control to clean up after battles

Rebuilt Stark Tower into Avengers Tower and gave each team member their own quarters

One of the best biologists and biomedical engineers on Earth, even if it’s not his main area of expertise:

helped Maya with Extremis back in 1999, because knew more in her own field, and even didn’t remember that

was head hunted by Aldrich Killian to work on Extremis with/instead of Maya, who was the leading expert in tissue regeneration

improved and stabilized Extremis, so it became safe regenerative technology, and with it…

cured Pepper

healed extensive injuries in his chest

invented and implanted devices for remote control of his suits (into his forearm in IM3, and most probably into his brain for Mark L armor in Infinity War)

invented build-in diagnostic system in his suits

Invented many devices for protection purposes (ex. bomb disposal)

A capable detective. Figured out the cause of explosions in IM3 on his own

Saved Pepper instead of himself by putting Mark 42 on her during the attack on his Malibu mansion

Survived the attack with a barely working prototype suit. Shot down a helicopter with a piano

Was able to fight with enhanced fire-breathing regenerating terrorists without armor and weapons in Rose Hill. In handcuffs

Knowledgeable and skilled in medicine:

saved a kid with his arc reactor in a deleted scene from IM3, selflessly pulling it out of his chest and performing defibrillation under electric shocks

knew how to recognize hyperglycemia when Harley was eating 3rd bawl of candies

closed his wound in Infinity War with nanoparticles

performed first-aid on Bruce after his snap

Built a lot of stuff from random things he bought in a store for the assault on the Mandarin's mansion. In a motel

Successfully stormed the Mandarin's mansion full of armed and huge security guys with dogs. Alone. Without his armor

Successfully escaped captivity in the Mandarin's mansion with just a few pieces of armor on

Saved all the people who fell from the Air Force One

Stormed Roxxon Norco ship with Rhodey, without a suit. With one handgun

Saved the US president

Defeated Killian and his Extremis-enhanced terrorists, saved many lives

Built quinjets

Created Iron Legion

Became the benefactor of the Avengers, provided them with everything, was a combatant, and also the team’s pilot, hacker, engineer, medic, and scientist

As an Avenger saved many lives on missions, including destroying the rest of HYDRA in AoU

With Bruce’s help created Veronica and Hulkbuster suit

Defeated a rogue Iron Legionnaire with a fork

In contrast to other team members was able to function after Wanda played with his mind

Defeated mad Hulk. Saved a lot of lives in Johannesburg

Easily hacked nuclear codes in Nexus and found J.A.R.V.I.S. “in the world’s biggest haystack”

Created advanced AI F.R.I.D.A.Y.

Many advanced AIs

Created Vision

With the Avengers defeated Ultron and his army

Evacuated people who were left in Sokovia

Saved a falling evacuation shuttle with people on it

Together with Thor saved Earth by destroying the falling Sokovia

Rebuilt Stark Compound into Avengers Compound for the team in Upstate New York

Invented several medical devices, including leg braces, blood toxicity detector

Sponsored the development of technology for psychotherapy (B.A.R.F.). Prevented it from being used for harm

Funded all the students’ projects at MIT

Did everything possible to legally, politically, and physically protect the team before, during, and after the Civil War

Was able to disarm Winter Soldier without a suit, with only one armored glove

Figured out Spider-Man’s identity

Created Spider-Man’s suits

Mentored, sponsored, and looked after Peter Parker

Saved Peter Parker (SMH). Twice

Saved the ferry from sinking

Invented nanoparticles

 “Earth’s best defender”

Went to space to save Peter, Strange and bring back Time Stone

Saved Peter Parker (IW)

Saved Strange on the Donut spaceship. Killed Ebony Maw

Cloak of Levitation chose him as his second favorite (deleted scene with Tony wearing Levi and Strange in Mark L)

Was respected by Thanos himself

Withstood when Thanos hit him with a moon

Fought Thanos, made him bleed, kept fighting even without armor

Survived a severe injury thanks to his own invention

Was able to function, tried to fix Benatar, and return home while injured and ill with an infected wound

Built a lab for Bruce and helped him to become one with Hulk (combine the best of both worlds)

Became an amazing dad

Became an expert in time travel physics

Discovered/invented (controlled) Time travel

Built a time machine

Went on Time Heist and stole Tesseract from a guarded military base

Created his own Infinity Gauntlet

Thus brought half of the universe back to existence (Bruce snapped and partially sacrificed his health, but nothing would be possible without Tony)

Saved Bruce’s arm by providing emergency medical care

Fought with Thanos again and…

Saved the whole Universe

[reasonsforhope]

"An AI-equipped foot scanner placed at one’s bedside could be a lifesaving companion to those living with a risk of heart failure.

Developed by Heartfelt Technologies in concert with the UK’s National Institute of Health, the scanner takes 1,800 photos of a person’s two feet and analyzes them for signs of a fluid buildup called oedema, one of three best indicators of oncoming heart failure.

Heart failure occurs when the heart’s inability to pump blood properly results in a buildup of fluid in the lungs and a lack of blood-derived oxygen reaching vital organs.

Dr. Philip Keeling, the lead author on a study debuting the invention who is also a consultant cardiologist at the South Devon National Health Service Foundation Trust, explained why such a device would be a key tool in combating heart failure, something which affects 1 million Brits every year.

“This device detects one of the big three warning signs for people with heart failure before they end up in hospital,” he wrote, according to the BBC.

“Only about half of people admitted to hospital with heart failure currently get assigned an early review by a heart failure nurse who can check to see if they are suffering a harmful build-up of fluid because their heart is not working properly.”

“Amid a shortage of heart failure nurses, a device like this can be like a virtual nurse, tracking people’s health.”

AI IN MEDICINE: 

Teens Developed App That Identifies Mouth Cancer–Making Early Diagnosis Easy and Winning $50k for Their School

In 10 Seconds, an AI Model Detects Cancerous Brain Tumors Often Missed During Surgery

After Studying Mammograms, AI Can Detect More Breast Cancers Than Humans–With Fewer False Positives

New AI Smartphone App Accurately Diagnoses Ear Infections and Prevents Unnecessary Antibiotic Use

The study which Dr. Keeling helped run involved 26 patients across five NHS trusts. Alerts given by the device of potential heart failure came between eight and 19 days in advance of a hospitalization, giving a mean prediction time of 13 days, which is enough for measures to be taken that could prevent hospitalizations.

Six hospitalizations occurred during the trial period, and the device accurately predicted 5 of them. 82% of patients decided to keep the device after it ended.

“This small study suggests a simple device could significantly improve outcomes for at-risk patients with heart failure by keeping them out of hospital,” said Dr. Bryan Williams. Chief Scientific and Medical Officer at the British Heart Foundation which was not involved with the study."

-via Good News Network, June 16, 2025

[3rdvoice]

Letter column

Hey Mr. Dahm, I’ve been reading 3rd voice, and I love your worldbuilding. However, I know that you haven’t nor will you explain to the reader everything in the world. But I do want to know how you build your world in a way that: 1. You’re not overwhelmed 2. It seems so original 3. It’s beautiful to behold And if you have a guide or questions you ask yourself before starting, that would be lovely to know. Best wishes, Anonymous * April 28, 2025

I can answer at least one of those pretty directly, but in general the solutions I’ve arrived at are around the idea of “working from wide to tight focus.” In terms of preliminary questions: ideally I begin with at least some sense of NARRATIVE: not “what the story will be exactly” but “what sort of things will the story work with” and try to build everything from that starting-point.

To not be overwhelmed, I try to maintain focus on the interests and moving-parts of characters in the story, and I try to treat setting-detail as supportive of the bigger ideas of the setting and the story. One big thing 3V is about is “looking backwards,” so the setting becomes a device to articulate that basic idea in a bunch of different ways, from a bunch of different perspectives, constantly. Having a guiding thematic throughline in place can help keep things ORGANIZED! You can still SIMULATE the immense, uselessly noisy detail of “reality,” but I think there’s diminishing returns on that. The details that stick are the ones that support the big ideas. For areas where the details are, in my estimation, worth keeping track of in specific, I keep a few different documents that I can refer back to. These get filled in spottily in advance, and I generally put stuff in bold when they’re locked-in publicly in the comic.

Don’t know what to say really about originality and beauty. I am frustrated by invented settings that are too rote. I am motivated by an interest in fantasy fiction before it got locked-in to its current uptight model. So much of this, I think, just comes down to being a little intentional with one’s interests: if you look outside of your immediate cultural surroundings, you get a bigger idea of what’s possible to imagine. Nothing comes from nowhere!!

rice-boy.com

[bringthekaos]

I'm excited for your thoughts on the new season if/when you share them

It has legit taken me 3 days to come to terms with Act 1. Enough to be able to speak about it. Gunna apologize in advance for the wall of text, and I’m hiding it under a break for spoiler reasons. Also prefacing with these are all just my opinions. All are free to disagree with me and RB with discussions/theories etc. just don’t be a dick about it, I’m not engaging in any discourse.

Ok. So. I have mixed feelings, and I’m aware that this is because I don’t have the whole story yet. So this is all contingent on how the rest of the season plays out.

First and foremost, I’m… wildly swinging back and forth between love and disappointment for Viktor’s arc. So first the negative, and I’ll try to keep it brief because a lot of people have already expressed this and I don’t need to be beating that particular dead horse.

Viktor has had his agency, his bodily autonomy, his original ideas and nearly everything that made him Viktor stripped away. Nothing so far has been his choice. And while this could have worked just fine for an original character, he wasn’t. So there is a massive disconnect between what this character was/should have been. In League, it was all his choice (albeit with a healthy dose of mental illness thrown in, but still). AND it was very heavily suggested that many of the augmentations he performed weren’t as extensive as he lead everyone to believe (namely the controlling/dousing of his emotions). But it appears that whatever the Hexcore did to him, it’s real. He is clearly having a difficult time accessing his emotions, and if he can feel anything, it is limited to the point of him being completely stoic. And the thing with stoic characters is that you obliterate any emotional payoff for the audience. It’s very hard to make an audience feel an emotional connection to a character’s story arc when they themselves don’t feel anything (I have a theory about this though, but I’ll address it a little later in this post). And then there is the issue of Blitzcrank. Blitz was Viktor’s whole world, after his exile. How are they going to swing that? Like, I’m not even asking for Blitz to be in Arcane (that would be great, but I really don’t think they have time). But I stg if they take Blitz away from Viktor, make them someone else’s invention (my suspicion is Heimer or he finds the idea in Sky’s journal)… I’m sorry but no. This was Viktor’s idea, Viktor’s genius. I will genuinely be extremely upset if they take that from him too.

Then there is the whole situation with Sky. First, this girl was fridged. She was nothing but a plot device and continues to be just that. It feels hollow and forced, especially now that he’s hallucinating her as some sort of penance for what he did. (I have seen the prevalent theory that it’s the Hexcore using her image and his guilt to manipulate him, given that it “ate” her, and we have seen it “manipulate” him before when it punished him for trying to destroy it). But back to Sky—he barely acknowledged that poor girl. The reason for that can be argued, whether it’s because he’s gay or because he was just so wrapped up in his one-track minded research. But regardless, there just wasn’t enough setup between those two for this whole thing to have as much weight and meaning as I think it’s supposed to. Honestly to me (TO ME) it reeks of comphet. It feels like that random woman they threw at Poe Dameron to No Homo him. I’m not even asking for Jayvik canon. But the creators were well aware of this ship, after all it’s the second most popular ship in this show and it’s been around since 2012 when Jayce was literally created for Viktor. I’m asking for the bare minimum here—that it’s left open-ended as it was in League, open for interpretation.

Last negative I have is the whole Viktor Jesus thing. The first problem is I am pretty violently agnostic, and messiah narratives have never spoken to me. I don’t enjoy them, they feel weak. The whole “ordained by a higher power” thing is just… stale. Especially when this character originally had no higher power, he gave it to himself through his own hard work and ingenuity. Honestly, Viktor’s original arc is about as far from a Jesus allegory as you can possibly get. And I am absolutely terrified that they’re going to end said Jesus arc the way you’d expect—with him dying for it. Which leaves the moral of his story “disabled man should have just accepted that he was going to die despite the fact that it was the oppression and xenophobia of Piltover that left him out to dry, without proper health care, accessibility, equality, or equity that lead to his terminal diagnosis to begin with.” Which is a very oppressor-centric narrative and we do not need another one of those.

Sorry, I know I said I’d keep the negatives brief, and that was… not. My bad. But moving on!

I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, I did. I am working to embrace this new Viktor narrative and work it into my brain in a way that doesn’t ruin the ship for me. So without further ado, the positives.

Jayce.

Jayce.

Jayce.

I’d have to go back and time it, but it feels like he got more screen time in this first act than the entirety of the first season combined, and his character shined for it. It humanized him in ways season one never did. He’s caring, he’s devoted, and he loved Viktor! No matter what kind of love you think it is, it proves he loved Viktor without a doubt. He carried Viktor several city blocks to the lab to save him, and then YES, he broke his promise about the Hexcore because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing him!

And he’s funny! (The scene where he picks up the regular sized hammer in the fight against Renni and made that “this is ironic” face?? And then basically the entire interaction with Ekko? The hand me a tome thing, and then when he basically pulled this when Ekko suggested “so this is all your fault cuz you pissed off the Arcane”:

GOD that shit was great. Jayce’s personality just shined, and maybe it’s too much to hope, but maybe this will douse a little of the hate. Because instead of being a subtle hint at all of those things being true about him, it’s now overt. And when people lack media literacy, the hints have to be overt.

And th-the. The h. The HUG SCENE. I don’t think I will ever emotionally recover from that scene. Starting with Viktor who, despite being clearly emotionally—I dunno, vacant I guess—sounded so lost and scared when he said “what am I?” For me, it was whispers of that scene from The Last Unicorn: “what have you done to me?” And my poor sweet Jayce, who clearly hasn’t left this damn lab except to go to Cassandra’s memorial. Sleeping on the desk and bleeding through his bandages because he doesn’t want to spend a moment away from Viktor while he “recovers.” And his euphoric response when he finds Viktor alive, when he realizes he hasn’t lost him. And I OWE HIM AN APOLOGY, goddamn. I said in a post that “Jayce will not understand.” I thought that was how Arcane was gunna start the divorce. But Jayce genuinely did not care, as long as his lover friend was alive. And just… Jayce being so affectionate through this entire scene. The hug obviously, but also blurting things he thought he’d never get to say to Viktor—“I’m resigning from the council, my place was always here in the lab with you.”

And… the hug itself. I know we’re all analyzing it frame by goddamn frame, but I see exactly what everyone else sees—there is a moment where Viktor very subtly smiles. But it’s gone in an instant, and it turns bittersweet. LOOK AT HIM.

There is something there, it’s just buried. Deep beneath the surface. It seems to say “I want this, I have wanted this for so long.” But then he realizes something, something I don’t think we’re meant to understand yet. Maybe that he doesn’t feel anything about it anymore, and he recognizes that this should upset him and it doesn’t. Or perhaps it’s something more along the lines of “it’s too late.” Whatever it is, I think this is the exact moment he knows he has to walk away. Because he knows he’ll cave to the affection, he said it himself. (Which is another thing entirely. His voice changes when he says that. Something in him is reacting to that word. Maybe he’s fighting against it, or maybe he’s fighting to get it back. But something made him almost growl that word.)

Which leads me to my final thought (for this post anyway, cuz it’s turning into a novel); Viktor is still in there. He can still feel things, I just think they’re extremely muted by whatever the Hexcore did/continues to do to him, or he has to fight to express them. Because he also smiled at the hallucination of Sky after he “cured” Huck. And if he feels nothing, he wouldn’t have been “joyous” at the thought of her being proud of him, approving of the good things he’s trying to do in her memory. He wouldn’t crave that validation, that vindication from her. So I’m hopeful that we start to see this shell crack a little, especially if those visions of Sky are the Hexcore manipulating him through guilt. It will start to erode him, no matter how stoic he has become. And literally the only thing I’m clinging to is that Jayce will see this and try to pull him out. “He’s still in there and I have to save him.” And that maybe it’ll start to work.