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ratatattouille · 7 months ago

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Why Arcane's Finale Fumbled Pt. 2

In my last post, I argued that Arcane's second season was artistically beautiful and thematically cheap. I broke down where I believed the writers fumbled with Vi's, Jinx's and Viktor's characters, and how the conflict of season 2 should have centred around a war between Piltover and Zaun rather than Piltover/Zaun against Ambessa and cosmic robots. I asserted the the real let-down of Season 2 had to do with its themes and its refusal to commit to the political story it had set up.

Well, folks, on further examination, it actually looks worse than I thought, and I'm going to use two characters--Silco and Mel--to break down what makes the message of Arcane so hollow and even a little dangerous.

Let's get into it.

Silco: The First Proposition

Silco and Vander:

Silco is a character CENTRAL to the themes of Arcane. The setup of the entire drama of the show, the central theme, are these questions: what is the price of progress and are we willing to pay it? Should we pay that price? Or as Silco says it quite bluntly to the first kid we see him give shimmer to: “Real power belongs to people who are willing to do anything to get it.” This story isn’t merely about ambition, but a dialogue on what actual progress costs and looks like. What does a better world look like? Is the better world we’re fighting for better for us or others? And what (or who) are we willing to sacrifice to achieve that goal? Vander, when faced with that question on the bridge answers, “No dream is worth the loss of those we love.”

The death on the Bridge of Progress during the early war/conflict had too high a cost to Vander. Silco, however, “had enough.” Unlike Vander, what happened on the Bridge of Progress radicalized him. Silco, while being drowned by Vander, realized in that moment that he would do anything, not just to live, but to achieve his dream of a free Zaun. With or without Vander. Even if he had to sacrifice Vander. And we soon see, that while Vander dedicated the rest of his life to keeping the vulnerable in The Lanes safe (even if it meant making deals with enforcers), Silco was willing to throw citizens of The Lanes to the wolves on his way to achieve independence for Zaun. Silco calls it, “The necessary violence for change.” And in this episode (3 of Season 1) Silco sets forth a proposition for the entire show: does the path to a better world require violence?

Silco and Sevika:

Silco’s new approach to crossing the bridge of progress, the path to freedom is winding and twisted. Silco embraces that, because only the goal matters: an independent Zaun. Silco won’t be at the mercy of the Council or anyone in The Lanes, and Sevika is into that shit. We saw that she percieved Vander as weak and servile to enforcers. Who she deems abhorrent without remorse (Vander and Grayson are both despised by Sevika and Marcus because they are percieved as being too lenient with their enemies). Silco, however, has an ACTUAL plan.

He creates a shimmer enterprise because having this control not only gives him a monopoly on The Lanes (and the gangs within), but leverage when it comes to manipulating the Council. Violence and the threat of war are the official languages of both Zaun and Piltover. It is how anyone bothers to listen to Silco both in The Lanes and within the Council. We know that the rich Piltovians (like those IRL) only speak money. “Progress” to them is prosperity and legacy (and I’ll get more into that later).

By creating the shimmer enterprise, Silco not only gets his foot in the door, monopoly over the other gangs and factions (thus uniting them), but a metaphorical seat at the table. His name has weight now, which positions him to make demands of Piltover and give Zaun a thriving industry (at least when it comes to money). Especially because (as we see with Salo and Lest) shimmer is also used by the elites. Silco is a brilliant tactician who exploits the hubris of Piltovians (like Marcus, who wanted to be in charge so he can neuter Zaunites indiscriminately), and manipulates them to his own advantage (much like Mel). But when Renni’s son is killed in the mines, Silco’s proposition is confronted once again: isn’t it easy to justify necessary violence when no one you love is the collateral?

Silco doesn’t care about Renni’s son, doesn’t see himself as remotely near Renni’s position. When Twitch calls Jinx his “dog” (something Sevika herself wanted to do lmao), Silco gets twitchy. He doesn’t recognize any similarity between his relationship with Jinx and Renni and her son. Jinx is not someone he would ever consider as up for debate. Which was the point of tension between him and Sevika (a Sevika who’s loyalty he KNEW he needed in order to keep control, especially in the wake of Jinx’s volatility and unpopularity). Nevertheless, Sevika doesn’t betray him in that moment, because she still sees Silco as stronger (even though she believes Jinx is a weakness he needs to get rid of). As with Vander, Sevika views affection for their own at the cost of freedom as weakness.

Yet, funnily enough, she is fiercely loyal. She, like Jinx, is Silco’s “dog.” She shares his weakness, the weakness that makes her zealous for a better world in the first place. But what Twitch and Renni pose to both Silco and Sevika is the unsettling question of: are you really willing to go far enough? Or do you still see yourself as an exception? Regardless, when it comes to Silco’s proposition, Silco WAS SUCCESSFUL (and also accurate in his deductions on what would get both cities to respect him and eventaully give him what he wanted - Zaun). His determination and focus paid off, indeed, it’s hard to see how he could have been successful without the “necessary violence”. It is clear that he wouldn’t have. No shimmer, no independence. Silco, for all his gruesome methods, WAS RIGHT. Except . . .

Silco and Marcus:

By exploiting and manipulating the vulnerable of The Lanes, Silco also ensured he would suffer the same fate as Marcus. Unlike Silco, Marcus did horrible things to protect his daughter. Marcus, at first, had started out as a zealous enforcer, eager to clean out the rats of The Lanes. Although he didn’t plan for Grayson to be killed, he was willing to get rid of her in order to ensure that he would get into a position that allowed him to do what he wanted to do: exterminate rats and be the hero of Piltover.

Silco offers him bodies for Stillwater in exchange for ease of shimmer distribution. Silco is willing to sacrifice his own people, the people Zaun is ironically for, in order to gain influence in Piltover. Silco, however, did the opposite. Because he loved Jinx, he recognized her deepest insecurity and sought to assuage it (inadvertently weaponizing it against her and those who loved her). He let Jinx get close and gave her responsibility so she could feel like she belonged (he let her drug his eye, a delicate process, while she was still thought of as reckless and untrustworthy). He brought her deeper into the heart of the violence and taught her to embrace it. He made her a child prodigy of warfare.

He takes a different approach to Vander (who kept telling the kids to stay out of trouble where they could and used himself as a buffer). So was Silco wrong? Was Vander? The answer was, quite poetically and profoundly, their deaths and the resulting silence. Both died, more or less, at the hands of their daughters. This is something overlooked often by fandom. It was Vi’s choice to lead her brothers and sister into Jayce’s apartment that would eventually bring the enforcers down to The Lanes, sparking the chain of events that would lead to Vander’s death (or had things gone “well,” his arrest). Vi is also how Powder got the arcane stones in the first place. Vi’s encouragement (well-meaning and innocent as it was) played a hand in the disaster that followed.

But the fact that both Vander and Silco die regardless, paints an excellent portrait of the constraints of oppression. Both tried different methods when it came to rearing their daughters. Both methods got them killed and thrust their children into peril. Vander could only have shielded Vi for so long, and Jinx could only have taken so much so young before she broke down completely. The fate of the girls is not merely their fathers’ fault, nor their sister’s. The tragedies of their lives happen due to the simple fact that they were born in The Lanes. No choice, on either Vander’s, Silco’s, Powder’s or Vi’s mattered in the end.

They were always playing a losing game, which is what makes it so fucking INFURIATING when S2 comes along and suggests that “ACKTUALLY the reason everyone’s happy in Ekko’s AU is because Vi died/hextech was no more/Silco and Vander made up).” All of those were symptoms of the bigger issue, not the issue itself. And that is the horrible irony of Silco’s story. He WAS right. But his folly was viewing himself and those he loved as exceptions to the rule. For when Zaun demands the final price, when Jayce asks for Jinx in exchange for his dream being realized, he isn’t willing to pay anymore.

Marcus only crossed the bridge of progress into Zaun for the sake of his daughter (as is shown in a chilling scene where he finds Silco playing with her in her room). Likewise, when Silco FINALLY finishes, after all those years, his march on The Bridge of Progress, like Marcus, he dies in a swarm of bullets. But unlike Marcus, he is afforded time to tell his daughter, “I wouldn’t have given you to them. Not for the world.” Not for his dream. So what did Season 2 do with that?

Summary of Fumblings:

-I’ll tell you what Season 2 did. Season 2 took the biggest shit on one of the most fascinating characters in animated history. The reason I didn’t put that much critique up there was to show you how complex, layered, deep and thoughtful Season 1 was with Silco’s character. Silco in S2 became a cheap gimmick flung in our faces like the marketing team was trying to sell Silco plushies following the release. His back-story in Season 2 clashes horribly with Season 1. If Vander, Silco and Felicia were such chums back then, why did neither Silco nor Vi recognize each other when they met in Season 1? They were quite grown by the time the March on The Bridge of Progress happened. Honestly, there’s too many mistakes and inconsistencies with how Season 2 handles the backstory I don’t even see a point in getting to it

-(excerpt from one of the writers) I can't BELIEVE MY FUCKING EYES! Silco’s respect for Vander, despite the fact that Vander tried to drown him (most likely after the carnage on the Bridge of Progress where Vander realized the cost of war), was that Vander remained dedicated to Zaun’s independence, at least, until he began prioritizing the safety of the children over Zaun’s freedom. Silco’s respect for Vander had never been a goal or motivation. Silco never expressed any desire to be respected by Vander. He merely expressed respect, ONLY because Vander, up until he became the enforcer’s “lapdog,” shared his pursuit of a free Zaun. Silco killed Vander for the same reason Vander tried to drown Silco: they had become a threat to what they held dear - Silco, his pursuit of Zaun, and Vander the safety of his adopted children.

-”We build our own prisons. Bars forged of oaths, codes, commitments.” This conversation is SO FUCKING—rips into mattress and pulls out stuffing Jinx hallucinates Silco from within the cell she’s in at Stillwater, maybe the same one Vi had been in. Silco starts off saying something like “It’s funny how Marcus thought putting Vi in this cell was a greater mercy than killing her,” cluing us in to not just Jinx’s mental state but the very real torment it must have been for Vi as a child as well. SO JUST TO RECAP, WE ARE TALKING ABOUT THE PRISON OF THE CYCLE OF KILLING AND VIOLENCE, OKAY. In addition to that already horrible quote above, Silco says, “. . . and it will continue, long after the two of you.” So, folks, IN CONCLUSION, this cycle of violence (which I have already established like a fucking broken record is EXPLICITLY started and perpetuated by Piltover) is eternal and inevitable. Just let that fucking sink in. Let it settle nice and sour in your gut and then tell me how that GERD feels. Not only is that an appalling thing to suggest about any oppressive regime, it’s also untrue. Yes, humanity has not gone a decade without some form of conflict and struggle, but individual societies have been PROVABLY capable of both progress and regress. Both of which require the agency and active participation of others. And Arcane seems to want to show that progress is indeed possible, but it has already declared it, to some extent, a pointless pursuit in this conversation. Which is it, Arcane S2 writers? Is progress worth striving for, or is it pointless? “Oh my god, you’re so dumb ratatatouille!” you say. “Of course they answered the former! Duh! In Ekko’s monologue when Jinx is trying to kill herself, he tells Jinx that someone special once told him that no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new - someone worth building it for.” GREAT! DELICIOUS, EVEN! Now why is it that Ekko says this instead of Silco? Why isn’t this something Silco would say, given that this was the entire point of his and Vander’s story? That this is what his arc embodied and explored? “You’re so silly! Obviously Silco is a hallucination!” The show explicitly frames Silco as RIGHT and tries to tie in what Silco says with what Ekko says. More sympathetic viewers will say that since Ekko discovered that Jinx was never the problem, that hextech was, and that Jinx was actually the path towards progress - a path Silco had walked so she could run - Ekko approached her as someone he could finally save (and oh boy am I going to get into why that doesn’t work AT ALL later). Is is not Jinx, but the hextech, the ARCANE, that is dangerous. The hextech is the true jinx. It is what will keep the cycle going. That’s why Silco holds the arcane stone near his eye like that in the scene.

And to that I say . . . WELL THAT’S FUCKING STUPID. I don’t care that “Arcane” is the title of the show. It is the cheapest story gimmick I have seen since vibranium, except vibranium REMAINED a plot device and didn’t usurp the theme or political/interpersonal conflicts in Black Panther. Hextech was a PLOT DEVICE meant to be used to explore the themes which became the ENDPOINT. And this story SUFFERS SO MUCH from that simple change. This is why most critics of season 2 say the story should have remained focused on the interpersonal and political reasons characters did what they did, rather than siphoning all their stories into a mission to stop the evil, mystical stones. It is a fucking stupid distraction in S2, where in S1 it had been a beautiful metaphor, a fragment of a mirror that the characters held up to examine their faces.

But by claiming the cycle was the hextech all along, you just shat on everything that made S1 good.

Which brings me back to what Ekko tells Jinx, that she can still build a better world for the people she loves (like Vi, I guess). That’s why she comes back to help her sister. She cuts her hair (a symbol of letting go of the past) and joins Vi to defeat Ambessa and evil Viktor. This is treated as some kind of continuation (or the true point) of Silco’s “ending the cycle” speech. By letting go of Vi (literally) and Silco (also literally), she can finally . . . er . . . stop “running in circles.” So the show tells us she is BOTH supposed to fight one more time to achieve an autonomous Zaun AND fuck off to a new land to escape said cycle—which, what was the POINT of fighting if she still had to “escape” it in the end anyways?

NO S2 HALLUCINATION SILCO, JINX AND VI DID NOT BUILD THEIR OWN PRISONS. THEY SURVIVED THE CAGES THEY WERE PUT IN AS CHILDREN AND THEY DESERVED BETTER THAN THAT GODAWFUL DUMBASS SPEECH.

Do you see why this writing is so horrible? It contradicts itself so many fucking times, no matter how you splice it. Whether it’s about the cycle of violence being the fault of unforgiveness or hextech. None of it makes any sense because none of it was ever established in season 1 as being the cause for any of those things. And by even SUGGESTING that either or both of those could be the cause, the writers send us two very troubling messages: oppression is inevitable and also, somehow, the fault (rather than responsibility) of the oppressed. Actually no, I think the suggestion from the writers is even stupider: oppression is an option and you can opt in or out.

And that is the ultimate insult to Silco’s character and what he did for the story of the show.

Mel: The Counterpoint

Mel and Jayce:

Mel is Silco’s thematic counterpoint. In the story, Silco proposes that progress costs some “necessary violence.” Mel is faced with this same question as a child, when Ambessa presents her with the last remaining heir of a nation Noxus had conquered. Ambessa asks young Mel if they should kill or spare the girl. “Kino says war is a failure of statecraft,” Mel had said, when her mother told her about how her father had made her retrieve knives on the battlefield at ten so she’d know death. War, Mel is sure, is REGRESS not PROGRESS. It is the breaking down of the state, not the making of one. It’s obvious to Mel that sparing this girl, who looks about her age, is the progressive, less barbaric thing to do. Yet Ambessa insists, “Your brother thinks he can talk his way out of anything,” Likening him to being a fox among wolves when a good ruler needs to be both. To which Mel goes on to describe the kind of ruler the new conquered kingdom will need. A woman “with a kind, fat face to charm her subjects”, but moldable, to which Ambesaa basically says “So basically you? Cool. I’m down, but you have to prove yourself to me. Prove you can take it.” This is when Mel is presented with the ultimatum: choose to spare the girl or kill her. “We can show the people we are merciful,” she pleads on behalf of the girl. But Ambessa is firm. If Mel kills her now (a symbol of the old “regime”), she won’t (maybe) have to deal with any uprisings and kill thousands.

But Mel doesn’t swallow this poison, insists that diplomacy is the superior way, and is banished to Piltover, where she undertakes the task of proving herself. She tries to become the fox. She uses her kind, fat face to charm the Councilors of Piltover and utilizes Jayce to use hextech for Piltover so that her work in the city becomes impressive, cements her legacy as a Medarda, validates her as one of them, and ALSO proves her mother wrong, thus liberating herself from her mother’s cycle of violence and re-instating her rightful station as a worthy member of the Medarda clan.

But it’s not JUST that, though. Jayce’s enthusiasm to improve the world with hextech inspires Mel and validates what she felt so strongly as a child that Ambessa staunchly denied. When Jayce shares his dream with her, she goes all soft and says, “We’re (the Medarda’s) not often in the position to give back.” Which is . . . funny, lol. I think she was talking about herself rather than her entire family. Anyway, to Jayce, Mel was the one who gave him a second chance. He and Viktor wouldn’t have gone anywhere without her help. Jayce is likely the first person she’s felt capable of helping (especially outside Ambessa’s shadow), and likewise, Mel makes Jayce feel indominable (remember: “Nothing feels impossible when I’m with you”). Jayce makes her feel good about herself, hopeful that her ways can work. After all, being the fox has worked for Jayce and Piltover.

But Mel isn’t just the fox, and not for the reasons S2 thinks. Why? LONG before Ambessa sets foot in Piltover, Mel receives a letter from a correspondent overseas. She despairs that Jayce is not ready to be the success she needs him to be. Even after he confides in her about Viktor’s illness, to her it is not a personal loss. Like no matter what the meljayvik or melvik shippers say, Viktor and Mel DID NOT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT EACH OTHER OUTSIDE OF JAYCE. Jayce wants to uphold his promise in helping Viktor, the man who saved him from his own death (AND TRUST ME, WE’LL GET TO THAT) but Mel wants Jayce focused on keeping her investment and legacy IN PILTOVER safe from Ambessa.

So what does homegirl do? She manipulates Jayce into creating hextech weapons. The reason she moves for a vote to make Jayce a councilor on Progress Day is in light of Jinx’s attack. The councilors are worried that someone in the undercity got their hands on hextech and can use it against them. Jayce, feeling responsible for the situation (and that probably having something to do with Caitlyn nearly dying in the attack), proposes to pause all hextech developments until the threat is neutralized. Instantly, we see Viktor’s and Mel’s reactions—panic. Both are running out of time. Mel to make Piltover a success (in that it is able to defend itself from Ambessa), and Viktor to help those dying in The Lanes. So Mel proposes Jayce become a councilor instead.

We next see her examining Jinx’s bomb with Viktor and Jayce. Jayce asks Viktor if it’s possible that Jinx could create something resembling hextech. Viktor, who is busy marvelling at Jinx’s ingenuity and feeling a little proud of his people, says very confidently that “It’s a leap.” Meaning it’s far away from what Jayce and him are developing. But Mel needs SOMETHING to intimidate Ambessa. That, or she recognizes the undercity as a real threat to her dream of progress and prosperity. Legacy. The undercity is ugly and she wants to neutralize it before she loses her chance. Regardless, here, we see her make the choice to be the wolf. The relentless and unmerciful. Focused and driven by her ambition. She will be a Medarda, unlike last time. Armed and prepared. When Jayce asks if she knows for certain that Zaun intends to turn the gemstones into weapons, Mel says, “That doesn’t matter. We’ll assume,” which pisses Viktor off. But then she performs the ultimate manipulation on Jayce. She uses Jayce’s care for the Kirammans and Piltover to convince him that it’s necessary to “protect your people” which, Viktor can tell, does not extend to the people of the undercity.

Once again, Mel is demonstrating that she doesn’t see Zaunites as people. She barely acknowledges Viktor when he protests, saying “That’s not what we invented hextech for!” She merely looks at him, then looks back at Jayce and talks to Jayce. She repeatedly ignores Viktor, talks over him, as if he isn’t there. Doesn’t matter. After all, Jayce is the only one in Piltover worth her time. Piltover is her project, not the dirty undercity. Mel had already sown the seed for Jayce’s rampage by the time Ambessa showed up.

“Stay away from Jayce!” she says, and yet Mel is what brought Ambessa close to Jayce both physically and ideologically. For hextech and Piltover (the City of Progress) to be safe, Jayce has to commit some “necessary violence for change.”

This isn’t only Ambessa’s fault, but Mel’s and Jayce’s errors as leaders. By neglecting the undercity, Jayce fails to see how his innovations could be weapons until it's too late. Mel is also so focused on Ambessa as a threat that she neglects the threat of the undercity, a place that only became a threat because of YEARS of failed state-craft.

Jayce acquiesces to Ambessa's rhetoric since the attack at the bridge, and proposes to the other council members to go into The Lanes with force, which they are all (including Mel) hesitant to do. But then Jayce goes ahead anyways, and kills a kid (which we’ll come back to), and he not only regrets it, but does a 180 and returns, like Mel, back to his core values — peace and progress over prosperity or legacy. He makes a deal with Silco and then goes and tells the Council what’s up. Mel, now utterly convinced of her position, is the first to cast her vote in favor of an independent Zaun, and removes the Medarda ring while she does so, signalling her disdain for all the clan represents. Not only that, but she smears gold over the Noxian ships in her painting, which her mother correctly reads as a rejection of Noxus and an embrace of the Piltover her and Jayce want to build. Mel does not anticipate the attack, and Mel, in the last frame of the finale of Season 1, is the first target of Jinx’s bomb, the first councilor it was going to hit while her back was turned to it.

Mel and Viktor:

Mel’s parallel with Viktor is interesting. Mel’s interest in hextech (and initially Jayce) are to her own ends, later becoming altruistic (Viktor’s interest in Jayce also starts as an interest in his theories although his motivations were altruistic from the start). Jayce reminded her what she wanted to be in the first place. That her family name, like Jayce’s was to his, was a ball and chain around her neck. Holding her back from true progress. From a better world. A better legacy. Viktor comes from nowhere-land. Viktor doesn’t have a family legacy to inherit. Viktor is a Zaunite. And soon, much like Viktor, Mel is going to have to work hard to create her own legacy. Both Viktor and Mel are sort of outsiders in Piltover. As is shown in S2 with Salo, Piltover, the Fake City of Progress, has no accommodations for the disabled, which makes Viktor stand out like a sore thumb (also, Viktor is the one who made his own leg brace). Mel is a foreigner who has to make a name for herself before she can latch onto the Medarda title. Viktor wants the city to be good, while Mel wants the city (and herself) to look good by matching the strength and prosperity of Noxus.

This is why Viktor gets so sassy with her lmao. He sees through her manipulations and notices that she is pulling Jayce away from what they’d set out to do together (he is also annoyed at how easy it is for Jayce to forget). Mel is the one who tells Jayce it would be wiser to let the council members get away with their criminality (all while cracking down on The Lanes), which makes them wealthier, something that pushes Jayce deeper into his own prejudices against Zaun, where he starts seeing himself as primarily a caretaker of Piltover rather than hextech, as a councilor rather than a scientist, and it jeopardizes his relationship with Viktor.

But Jayce helped her re-connect with the values all three of them shared deep down. The desire to help people and make the world a better place. After the bridge massacre, Mel wants to put her charm and diplomacy to good use, and she does so in the Council Room when she votes for Zaun’s independence.

But here’s where the FUMBLE happens. In S2, we see that Mel’s magic seems to have shielded Jayce and herself, but not Viktor. Not only that, but it’s hinted that Viktor’s magic is resistant to her touch. We don’t get any answer as to why that is (although I’d like to think that was Viktor being petty even while unconscious). This is especially weird since the arcane is alluded to be where the mages get their power (and isn’t it convenient that Viktor became a mindless war machine controlled by the corrupted/corrupting arcane instead of a mage when we see that in other universes he is indeed a mage already?). Not only that, but Viktor can clearly “touch” her magic through the puppet, later on.

Jayce keeps asking her why he was spared and Viktor wasn’t, and Mel, once again, cannot answer him. She knows that her magic protected her and Jayce, but once again, Jayce is lowkey asking why all these horrible things keep happening to Viktor instead of him. Why he is spared instead of Viktor. Unlike Mel, I have an answer. The answer IS PRIVILEGE JAYCE NOT THE FUCKING ARCANE AND THE MYSTICAL NATURE OF MAGIC OR SOME UNKNOWN FORCE OF FATE. Viktor’s tragedy was something that could be helped by both hextech and just Piltover not being a bunch of fucking asswipes. Viktor’s “bad luck” was actually just piss poor governance, or as Kino would say, “a failure of statecraft.” When Mel forsook her original ideals in order to pursue her mother’s acceptance and her family legacy, she did what all the other council members did: make themselves comfortable in places of power at the expense of the oppressed. In order for her to reclaim herself, she had to abandon Noxus and her dream of returning or belonging to the Medarda Clan. Mel has to choose between her family’s legacy and her own longing for progress and dedication to mercy over violence.

Mel and Ambessa:

While Jayce has to fight Victor (who is really now reduced to just another weapon Jayce created that’s gotten into the wrong hands - and more on THAT later), Mel’s task is facing down her mother. By removing the context of oppressed/oppressor inherent to the Piltover/Zaun dynamic, we fail to explore S1’s setup for Mel. IT SHOULD BE NOTED that the reason diplomacy worked for Mel and not Silco was because of their differences in power. When Viktor tells Jayce “There is always a choice” after Jayce expresses his doubts regarding what Mel said about the Zaunites making hextech, Viktor was talking about Jayce’s choice. Mel’s choice. Mel could have chosen to be diplomatic, even with the threat of Jinx. But instead she forsook her ideals in pursuit of her desire to become a Medarda and, like her mother in her dream, preferred to eliminate the threat rather than integrate (Zaun). Even if she back-tracked by the time her mom came back.

Mel has to face the fact that, like Jayce, she betrayed her values and initiated something horrible: the war she’d always dreaded and despised. Mel is why Ambessa heard of the weapons in the first place. But S2 doesn’t focus on this at all. It barely acknowledges it. Instead, Mel is sucked into the Black Rose and told she’s a mage and that her mother must die for the sake of nameless nations the Black Rose mentions. You see, Ambessa is a scapegoat. An excuse to halt and dissolve any meaningful discussion on Piltover’s (and Mel’s) hand in the plight of The Lanes.

By making Ambessa the big bad, the council members and other Piltovians complicit in Zaun’s desperation get a free pass. Both in the show and by fandom. In fact, Mel can now be regarded as a hero (one of the GOATs of Arcane, if I recall) for killing Ambessa, then being christened the wolf by her mother. We don’t have to reckon with the fact that for most of the time she ignored Zaun, and that when Zaun got her attention, her first instinct was to weaponize Piltover, saying, “The peace was already broken.” And I’m pretty sure the reason she did this was LARGELY for ambition, because not more than an episode later, she’s backtracking, insisting that Jayce doesn’t know war like she does, that they should simply give Silco what he wants.

So Viktor was right. She wasn’t forced to create hextech weapons. She wanted to do it for her own gain. And Jayce rightfully gets mad at her in S2 when he recognizes her manipulations (even if he himself was complicit). He does, however tell her that “No one can control you and you’ll never be a passenger.” Once again affirming her incredible power—only this time, the focus is magic and not her political prowess. AND ISN’T IT CONVENIENT THAT MEL “DOESN’T UNDERSTAND” HER EMPATHIC POWERS SO SHE CAN BE TECHNICALLY EXCUSED FROM HER DECISIONS IN S1? HOW COOL IS THAT?!

Lmao when Mel starts lecturing her mother in the finale with “Mother, look at the price of your ambition,” it’s like . . . okay? You exacerbated this war long before your mother, girl. You were the one on the council for YEARS before she arrived. Mel, like Caitlyn, gets to play saviour while barely taking any credit for the fact that she was largely responsible for where Zaun and Piltover ended up (sis literally determined council votes singlehandedly). When Mel stands on the other side of the Bridge of Progress, she sees a trail of violence. She decides to cling even more firmly to her core values. Silco was right, but so was Mel. You see, diplomacy wouldn't have worked for Silco, but it could work for Mel, because Mel had power.

Summary of Fumblings:

-And what was that, “(Piltover is) the city I built for my family” BS? By the end of S1, it is clear that Mel wants NOTHING to do with being a Medarda anymore. She wants to keep Noxus and Piltover SEPARATE. So why does she tell her mother, “You will never be a Medarda” as some kind of gotcha? Lmao, like why tf does that matter? How would she know? Why would she care? Other than her and Kino, what other benevolent Medardas are out there that makes her say this?

-The Black Rose warns Mel of Ambessa’s “thirst for legacy” (much like Mel’s) leading to a worldwide calamity. Mel wants to imagine that her mother prizes her own children over her pride, but the Black Rose insists that’s not true. That Ambessa is willing to sacrifice her children for more power and legacy. We do understand, however, that when Ambessa is confronted by the Black Rose, she is resorting to hextech so she can avoid using Mel (”she’s safer as our enemy”). AND THAT WOULD MAKE SENSE IF THE THIRD ACT ACTUALLY ACTED LIKE IT. How is Mel going to be this really great weapon that Ambessa doesn’t want to use because she loves her (which like, why didn’t she love Kino then if it wasn’t about magic?), but also simultaneously SENT AWAY TO A DISTANT LAND OUT OF HER WATCH? So now she’s hiding Mel, but she wants to pursue the arcane that is waking her mage-ness up and making it impossible for Mel to hide? Ambessa was literally there in the council room in the aftermath of the explosion. She knew Mel had used magic to protect herself and Jayce, but she didn’t do anything? Say anything?

Now most of this is clearly setting up another story in Runeterra (which means my criticism will ultimately be left to conjecture), so I’m going to focus instead on her last words to Mel: “You are the wolf.” The wolf being a symbol (at least in callback to season 1) of ruthlessness and fearlessness: the opposite of mercy. Why does her mother say this? Because Mel finally made a kill? Or because she killed to protect what she built? Finally embraced her power? Yeah, let’s go with that last one. Mel’s development in S2 becomes one where we focus on the power she’s always had, both magical and influential. Yet the show focuses more on the cool magic part than the rammys of Mel’s decisions in S1. It ignores her political power and frontlines her magical abilities, even making her political prowess partly due to her magical empath powers . . . like . . .

-Mel had dislodged her legacy from the Medardas by the time S2 rolls around. . . except no she hasn’t. In the end, Mel is sailing back on the Noxian ships she painted over, and she is doing so as the new Warlord (even wearing what looks like her mother’s cape) because she is the badass wolf, the leader that her mom wasn’t. And how did she achieve that power? Magic. Why does she want to go back? To reform the Medarda name? To take on the mission her mother couldn’t finish against The Deceiver? Because Jayce is dead? Who even cares at this point, this is mainly happening for the spinoff. It isn’t illogical, it’s just the least interesting approach to her character. Mel had much more agency in S1, and her political prowess made her formidable. But that doesn’t matter anymore.

-Her whole arc in S1 was all about her finding the courage to leave the Medarda name behind in pursuit of true progress, but then she kills her mother and sails away from Piltover, the city she fought to protect and killed her mother for and is all about probably reforming the Medarda name—and that’s her job done? Is it me, or is that a reversal of her—pardon the pun—progress? Also, she grew up in Piltover, it must be more of her home than Noxus ever was. Not only that, but making Ambessa go from an imperialist tyrant to this woman bravely fighting against a larger, more powerful threat cheapens what Noxus represented for me. Sometimes conquerors do be conquering, and they make threats up to justify their greed. Not the other way around. It’s not too egregious, but it would’ve been nice if the Black Rose had been more of an epilogue thing.

-sigh I know I’ve said it before but it’s because it’s true . . . the conflict should have remained between Zaun and Piltover and Ambessa was a cheap way out of what S1 was building up

-Ambessa was not who Mel needed to physically defeat, but someone she needed to ideologically defeat. And we don’t see any of that. By the time Ambessa calls Mel “the wolf” it’s hollow, because it’s about Mel being a more powerful combatant than a wise ruler. In this moment, her “foxness” is about how she figured out the “deception” of the Black Rose and not how she outmaneuvered her mother politically. Perhaps it would be epic if we knew what the fuck she meant by “I see your face deceiver!” and then super sayan-ing out of nowhere. Her not having mercy on her mother is about being a Medarda, a question that wasn’t the focus of season 1, merely a catalyst. Becoming a Medarda was the goal Mel had, not the need. She needed to learn how to rule. Instead, she learns how to kill. And then she’s off to her home in Noxus as more of a soldier and spy than a queen.

Which likely means two things:

-S2 got bored of Mel and just gave her cool reflective powers to make up for it. Making every interesting development about her character happen off-screen, in the writers room, or on another show.

-S2 was deliberately trying to communicate that it sided with Ambessa. That violence and combat, war, is not merely a failure of state craft, but necessary or inevitable to political growth. That militarism is the only thing that can answer militarism. That the only way to ensure the progress you make is secure is arming yourself. Even though this topic has some grey areas, Arcane explicitly picks a side by narratively using Ambessa to justify Piltover’s weaponization of hextech.

i know fandom has a lot to say about Mel being a “strong-black woman” character, but as a black woman myself, I hated how they stripped her of what made her such a strong, enigmatic presence in S1. Her prowess, her wit and cleverness. Her sheer intellectual power made her so FORMIDABLE.

She’s just a lost, hurt uwu little puppy for most of S2 before she’s given her US government assigned Avengers superhero uniform.

Mel in Act I was already using Lest to spy and we almost got a good story then—POOF!—Black Rose.

-Mel’s contribution to the development of hex-tech every step of the way is completely ignored. Instead Viktor and Jayce take full responsibility.

Conclusion:

Mel and Silco's arcs both ask: is violence necessary for progress? Both answer yes, but Mel's remains a little unsatisfactory. Because Mel had a choice. She had power. Power that Silco was willing to do (almost) anything to get. Both Mel and Silco's presence in S1 were formidable, and what made them so intriguing was there thorough understanding of people, both the good and the bad. But in S2, at least for Mel, what made her such an agentive character is thrust aside for spinoff hype. It's not that it isn't cool, it is. It's just one of the things that made S2 feel not only chunky, but disconnected from the roots of its story in S1. Both Silco's and Mel's characters in S2 reveal a very poor (or troubling) view of oppression, power dynamics and politics.

Anyway, that's just me. I was gonna do Ekko, Caitlyn and Jayce as well, but this post got too lengthy. I'll probably need to whittle it all down later. I've already cut so much.

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane critical #mel medarda #jayce talis #jayce arcane #viktor arcane #mel arcane

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krakenandsnackin · 20 days ago

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Meet the Team: PWHL Seattle Mini-Primer

Hello! I am mostly a lurker and reblogger here but I am a Kraken fan and a newly minted PWHL Seattle fan. I have been paying peripheral attention to the PWHL (takeover tour game was LIT), but now that we are getting our own team I wanted to start digging my teeth in. Posting here to help build the community, but I am brand new to this so please let me know what I missed so I can refine the mini-primer as we go!

The vibes I am getting of this team so far…

Stacked as hell

Everyone watches women's sports

We love lesbians

Thanks especially to krackencord friends for the help getting started!!

Meet the first five...

Hilary Knight #21 aka Knighter

One of the best hockey players of all time 🐐 and Captain America 🇺🇸.

She was captain of the Boston Fleet.

“Signing Hilary Knight was an absolute no-brainer - she’s the heartbeat of any team she joins" Said PWHL Seattle General Manager Megan Turner.

She is a self proclaimed Kraken enjoyer and loves the city of Seattle, joined Alison Lukan & Linda Cohn during a Kraken broadcast this season.

She kinda grew up/has family in Sun Valley Idaho so about as local as you can get for this area of the US.

True champion of women’s hockey. Has been on the frontlines for years causing trouble and forcing the issue of adequate facilities, travel, staff and pay. Uses her superstar status to make change, has been a part of the players union leadership since day one.

Dating another Olympian - US Speedskater Brittany Bowe (can you say power couple?)

She's 35 but not slowing down yet! Tied for PWHL points leader last season and second in goals. I cant list all her other accomplishments and awards because it would take forever.

Forward, from Palo Alto, California (Also grew up in Illinois and New Hampshire) signed to a 1 year deal.

Danielle Serdachny #92 aka Dax

Second overall pick in the draft last year but played bottom minutes last season (Seattle hockey loves a fresh start).

Seattle GM Megan Turner said: "She’s strong, plays through contact, and she’s only beginning to tap into her full potential"

Regarding her first season in the PWHL: "I didn't have as much of an impact as I hoped I would in my rookie year but I think this fresh start will be really good for me, the opportunity to play." under a new staff and new teammates... I hope I can turn some heads this year." (can't escape the narrative)

Scored the OT game winner to secure Team Canada the gold at women's worlds last year.

All time leading scorer at Colgate University.

Came from the Walter Cup runners up - the Ottawa Charge.

Forward from Edmonton, Alberta signed to a 2 year deal.

UPDATE: Seattle Kraken Assistant Coach/Icon Jess Campbell coached Serdachny in 2018/19 to a championship in the CSSHL (high school hockey?) and is excited to see her come to Seattle!!!

Cayla Barnes #3

LITERALLY ONE APPLE TALL (5'2")

Also coming off her rookie season, was drafted 5th overall by Montreal.

Cali gal who got her start playing roller hockey.

Has a chocolate lab named Hulk.

Another noted queer and dating a goalie!

She led the Victoire in time on ice last season.

Already a two time Olympic Medalist at 26.

Longer term deal, she's gonna be part of the core of the team.

GM Megan Turner "Even as a rookie last season, she played with the poise and presence of a veteran, and we see her playing a key role on our blue line."

Dynamic puck mover.

Defender from Eastvale (Corona), California signed to a 3 year deal.

Alex Carpenter #25 aka Carpy

The PWHL's all-time third leading scorer.

Her being left unprotected by NY was likely the biggest surprise of the protection lists, she also wore an A for them.

GMMT (is this anything?) says: “She’s an elite two-way player who has proven to be one of the best in the world for years, and she has the ability to take over a game at both ends of the ice. She’s hungry to win and brings the kind of drive that sets the tone for a team."

Patty Kazmaier Award Winner

Was on the US national team as a 19 year old for the 2014 Olympics, inexplicably got cut in 2018, then won her spot back in 2022.

Is also queer! Wife is an assistant equipment manager for the Toronto Marlies.

Plays Mario Kart as Mario…?

Eldest daughter!!!! to Bobby Carpenter who played in the NHL for 18 seasons and won 1 Stanley Cup as a player and 2 as a coach with the Devils.

She participated in the 2023 NHL All-Star skills competition.

Forward from North Reading, Massachusetts signed to a 1 year contract.

Corinne Schroeder #30 aka Schroeds

Shutout QUEEN! Recorded the first-ever shutout in the first-ever PWHL game and led the league with 4 shutouts with NY last season. The league record is 5 which she also holds…

Fan made sign and goalie chant enjoyer.

Grew up on an egg farm and has a cute Manitoba? accent

Sickest pads in the PWHL.

GMMT says “She brings poise, confidence, and the kind of elite goaltending every team needs to win, and we can’t wait to see her between the pipes for us.”

Goalie from Elm Creek, Manitoba signed to a 2 year contract.

Sidenote about her hometown…Population of 339. Claim to fame? Home to the second largest fire hydrant in Canada, and Corinne Schroeder. No literally she is the ONLY NOTABLE PERSON ON THEIR WIKIPEDIA PAGE!

Additional sidenote, comment section consensus among NY Sirens fans is that we got their two best players ( sorry u guys okay over there?)

Media to endear you

This Comment ⬆️ ⬆️ ⬆️

Goodbye videos for Knight, Schroeder, Barnes (second slide), Serdachny and Carpenter. These let us get to know them a little better and some sick highlights.

The past and future GOATS of Seattle women's sports (with special guests retired from the Storm and Reign 👀👀)

First ever jersey video (with Knight and Serdachny!)

Hilary Knight interview on an old Sound of Hockey interview ep. 71 where she talks about her connection to the PNW. (I CANNOT FIND THIS ANYWHERE PLEASE HELP)

Bonus big n' lil

Already obsessed with the narratives. See y'all after the expansion draft on Monday!!

#yes i did make this whole thing while half watching a very long SCF game #pwhl seattle #pwhl #hilary knight #cayla barnes #alex carpenter #corrine schroeder #danielle serdachny #pwhl expansion #jessica campbell #seattle kraken

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mywitchyblog · 6 months ago

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Reacting Answering and debunking Kristine s take on shifting (girl who talked about genetics and shifting)

Let’s clear the air, babes. 💅✨"

So, I know some of y’all might have stumbled across that TikTok from @sectumsempress (Christine), and if you haven’t yet, let me sum it up: it’s a video where she dives into her takes on shifting—some thought-provoking, some solid, and others… well, let’s just say they need a little rethinking.

Now, before anyone panics or starts spiraling, let me reassure you: you’re not doing anything wrong. Shifting is a personal journey, and one person’s opinions (even if they’re loud and sassy) don’t define the truth. If you’re feeling overwhelmed by her claims, breathe, because I’ve got you.

I’m here to break down her points one by one: where she’s spot on, where she’s almost there, and where she’s just plain off the mark. This isn’t about dragging anyone—it’s about keeping the shifting community informed, confident, and empowered.

Remember, babe: shifting is real, it’s valid, and you are more than capable of mastering it. Let’s dive into this post with clarity, sass, and a sprinkle of tough love. We’re addressing it all, and we’re doing it together. 💖✨

Taglist :

1: "I don't know what it is, but I do think there is a genetic component to who can and cannot shift."

Oh, honey. Let me stop you right there. Reality shifting is about consciousness, not chromosomes. No one’s out here unlocking DRs with their DNA. If shifting were genetic, then wouldn’t identical twins always have the same shifting abilities? Newsflash: they don’t. Shifting is deeply personal—it’s shaped by belief systems, practice, and the state of your subconscious mind.

Let’s talk logic:

If shifting were genetic, why do people from all backgrounds, ages, and cultures shift successfully?

If genes dictated shifting ability, how do beginners with no spiritual training manage to shift while seasoned practitioners struggle sometimes?

This "genetic component" claim feels like an excuse to gatekeep shifting behind a veil of exclusivity. You don’t need elite DNA—you need clarity, discipline, and faith in your abilities. What you’re really saying here is “I’m struggling and need something to blame.” Blame your approach, babe, not your ancestors. Shifting doesn’t care about your family tree; it cares about your mindset. 🧬✨

2: "Out of everyone who can shift, most of them shouldn't, including myself when I first started."

Now this is projection if I’ve ever seen it. Just because you weren’t ready when you started doesn’t mean the rest of the community isn’t. People shift for their own reasons, whether it’s healing, exploration, fun, or growth. Who are you to decide who should and shouldn’t explore their consciousness?

Let’s unpack this:

Shifting is a skill, and like any skill, it comes with a learning curve. Mistakes and missteps are part of the process. No one is perfect at it from the jump, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t try.

This idea of “most people shouldn’t shift” reeks of elitism. What’s the criteria? Who makes the rules? Oh wait—you don’t, because this is an individual journey.

And let’s not ignore the thinly veiled guilt here. “Including myself when I first started” screams “I made mistakes, so no one else should try.” No, sis, you made mistakes so others can learn and grow. Let people figure it out for themselves—your experience isn’t universal. Stay humble. 💁‍♀️✨

3: "If shifting is affecting your current reality to the point where your mental health plummets and you can't function, the cost is too high. This is also at past me."

Okay, valid point. For once, we’re aligned—but let’s add nuance. Shifting itself isn’t the villain here. The problem arises when someone uses shifting as an escape or obsesses over their DR to the detriment of their CR.

Here’s the truth:

Shifting works best when you’re grounded in your CR. Neglecting your CR responsibilities, ignoring self-care, or avoiding real-life problems will inevitably lead to burnout. Your CR self is the foundation for all your realities. If you’re not taking care of yourself here, it’s going to show up in your DR too.

Balance is key. Shifting can be an incredible tool for healing and self-discovery, but it’s not a replacement for addressing your mental health or real-life challenges.

Let’s also call out this “past me” comment. You’re shading yourself for your mistakes, which is fair, but don’t let that self-criticism turn into fear-mongering for others. Instead of saying “the cost is too high,” try saying, “Learn from my mistakes and prioritize your well-being.” That’s the energy we need. 🧠✨

4: "I think there will come a time when shifting is able to be explained scientifically."

Now we’re getting somewhere. Yes, science may eventually catch up, but let’s not act like shifting is waiting for permission to exist. Just because something isn’t fully understood doesn’t mean it’s invalid. Dreams weren’t “real” until REM sleep was discovered. Electricity wasn’t harnessed until the right tools were developed. Shifting is the same—it’s ahead of its time.

Here’s the tea:

Quantum physics already hints at the nature of reality being far more fluid and observer-dependent than we once thought. Concepts like the observer effect and parallel universes align with what shifters describe.

Neurology is just scratching the surface of how visualization and intention shape the brain. Lucid dreaming, meditation, and neuroplasticity all prove that the mind is capable of extraordinary things.

The fact that shifting isn’t yet measurable doesn’t diminish its validity. Science is a tool, not a dictator of truth. Shifting is real now, and science will catch up later. Don’t let the lack of a peer-reviewed study make you doubt your own experiences. 🔬✨

5: "The majority of people on Shiftok in 2020 were lying."

You’re not wrong, but let’s dig deeper. Were there liars? Absolutely. TikTok’s algorithm rewards drama, and fake success stories grabbed attention. But dismissing the entire Shiftok community as liars is lazy and reductive.

Here’s what really happened:

Many people on Shiftok were genuine shifters sharing their tips and experiences. The problem was that TikTok favored sensationalism over authenticity. Real advice got buried under Hogwarts weddings and Draco stans claiming they had seven kids in one night. 🐍✨

The fake stories weren’t malicious—they were clout-chasing. People wanted likes, and exaggerating their experiences worked.

But let’s not let the liars overshadow the genuine shifters who were out there putting in the work. Misinformation thrived because of the platform, not because everyone was lying. Don’t throw out the whole community just because some people were playing the algorithm. 🌟✨

6: "Way more people outside of the internet shift than we think they do, and most of them are adults."

This one is surprisingly solid, but let’s add some layers. Shifting has been around forever—it’s not a TikTok invention. People have been exploring alternate realities under different names, like astral projection, lucid dreaming, and deep meditation, for centuries. These practices have roots in spiritual traditions across cultures, often led by—you guessed it—adults.

Why don’t we hear more about these adults?

They’re less likely to post about it online because they don’t care about clout or “DR trends.”

Many adults see shifting as a private, sacred practice rather than something to flex.

But here’s where the take falters: don’t dismiss teens and younger people just because they’re more visible online. Shifting transcends age. The internet didn’t create shifting; it just gave teens a platform to talk about it. And let’s not act like adults are automatically better at it—age doesn’t guarantee discipline or skill, hun. Stop pitting age groups against each other. Shifting is for everyone, whether you’re 15 or 50. 🌌✨

7: "Nine out of ten times, teenagers do not have the emotional maturity or mental capacity to handle a DR. I know I sure wouldn't have been able to."

Okay, this one SCREAMS projection. Just because you weren’t ready doesn’t mean an entire generation of teenagers isn’t. Emotional maturity isn’t an age—it’s a mindset. While it’s true that some teens might struggle with the responsibilities or intensity of a DR, plenty of them are capable of handling it.

Here’s what you’re missing:

Shifting is deeply personal. One teen’s DR might be about living in Hogwarts, while another’s might be about exploring their self-worth or healing trauma. What they can handle depends on their intent and preparation—not their birth year.

This take also assumes that adults magically have their lives together. Let’s be real—plenty of adults couldn’t handle a DR either. Emotional maturity is learned through experience, not something that just arrives with age.

Instead of writing off teenagers as too immature, why not empower them to approach shifting responsibly? Help them understand the importance of grounding techniques, journaling, and balancing their CR. Support them instead of gatekeeping, babe. Growth comes from guidance, not judgment. 🖤✨

8: "Shifting to live as a child when you are an adult is wrong."

Oh, let’s unpack this nonsense, because the judgment here is LOUD and unnecessary. Shifting to live as a child isn’t inherently “wrong”—it’s all about intent. People shift to younger ages for all kinds of valid reasons:

Healing: Someone who had a traumatic childhood might shift to experience the innocence and joy they missed out on. That’s not “wrong”—it’s deeply therapeutic.

Nostalgia: Revisiting a simpler time in life can be comforting and grounding.

Where’s the harm if someone is revisiting their childhood for healing or self-discovery? The only time this could be “wrong” is if someone’s doing it for malicious, fetishistic, or exploitative reasons. And let’s be clear—that’s an issue with the person’s intent, not the act of shifting itself.

This take reeks of moral grandstanding. If you don’t understand why someone might shift to a younger age, maybe try asking instead of judging. People’s reasons for shifting are complex and personal. Stay in your lane and let them live. 🍼✨

9: "Shifting to live as an adult when you are a child is wrong."

And here comes the hypocrisy. Why is shifting to an adult age suddenly a problem? If a teenager shifts to experience independence, maturity, or even just to see what adulthood is like, how is that “wrong”?

Let’s break it down:

Exploring independence: Teens often feel powerless in their CR lives. Shifting to adulthood can give them a sense of control or help them explore who they want to be.

Learning experiences: Shifting to an adult DR doesn’t mean teens are out here taking real-world risks. It’s an internal journey. They’re not suddenly going to have access to bank accounts or responsibilities in their CR.

The issue isn’t teens shifting to adult ages—it’s how they approach adult themes. If a teen shifts irresponsibly or romanticizes harmful aspects of adulthood, that’s a learning opportunity, not a reason to gatekeep. Let them explore and grow. The real world isn’t handing out “mature enough” badges; why should shifting? 🔑✨

10: "Shifting is a perception of reality that takes place inside your own mind, and this does not make it any less real."

Babe, what even IS this take? Calling shifting “a perception of reality inside your own mind” is the laziest oversimplification. It’s like saying the ocean is just “wet stuff” or the universe is just “space.” Shifting is SO much more than a mental exercise.

Here’s why this is bullshit:

Shifters report full sensory immersion in their DRs—smells, tastes, and even physical sensations. That’s not just perception; that’s a relocation of awareness.

Many shifters describe gaining knowledge or skills in their DRs that they couldn’t have fabricated in their CR minds. That’s evidence of connection to a separate reality, not just “perception.”

Saying it’s all in your head is reductive and dismissive. Shifting isn’t just a daydream or lucid dream—it’s a deliberate movement of consciousness.

By this logic, everything you experience is just “perception,” and therefore not real. Do better. Shifting is as real as the CR you’re reading this in—it’s just on a different frequency. 🌀✨

11: "Therefore, perma shifting is impossible."

Who told you this? Perma shifting isn’t just possible—it’s the logical extension of what shifting already is. If infinite realities exist and your consciousness can relocate temporarily, what exactly is stopping it from staying permanently?

Let’s debunk this thoroughly:

Shifting doesn’t require you to return to your CR. You’re not tethered here by some metaphysical leash. If you can spend weeks in a DR, why not forever?

This take assumes that your CR body is what keeps you “alive.” Wrong. Your consciousness is the seat of your existence, not the meat suit you’re wearing in your CR.

The only barrier to perma shifting is fear or lack of belief. People who say it’s impossible are projecting their own limitations. If shifting is real, so is perma shifting. Stop trying to box people into your doubts. Perma shifters are already out there living their best DR lives while you’re here arguing with yourself. 🖤✨

12: "Your body will not get up and do things while you're shifting."

Okay, I’ll give credit where it’s due—this one is spot on. Your CR body doesn’t suddenly start sleepwalking or doing the cha-cha while you’re in your DR. Shifting doesn’t override your physical body’s autopilot mode. Instead, your CR body stays in a deep state of rest, like sleeping or meditating.

Here’s why this is accurate:

Shifting is a relocation of consciousness, not physical movement. Your awareness moves to your DR, while your CR body stays put. It’s like putting your computer on sleep mode—it’s still there, just inactive.

If your CR body did start moving, you’d be blending realities, which isn’t how shifting works. Shifting creates a clear boundary between where your consciousness is and where your body remains.

That said, your CR body can react slightly to your DR state—like twitching or deepened breathing—but it’s not going to hop up and do laundry. So yes, you’re right, but don’t act like this is revolutionary knowledge. Most people know this already. Your body stays put while your mind does the exploring. 🛏️✨

13: "Most people treat scripting and shifting as a choose-your-own-path fanfic instead of reality."

This one’s got layers, and I’m ready to dig in. First of all, who cares if someone treats scripting like fanfic? Scripting is a personal tool, and people can approach it however they like. But let’s get real: scripting is way more than fanfiction.

Here’s the nuance:

Scripting is a powerful manifestation tool. It sets clear intentions for what you want to experience in your DR. Treating it like a story doesn’t make it any less valid. If imagining yourself as the protagonist in a beautifully detailed “fanfic” helps you focus, then it’s working, period.

Not everyone scripts for the same reasons. Some people use it to map out specific DR details, while others treat it as a loose guide. Neither approach is wrong—it’s about what works for YOU.

Also, let’s not act like scripting takes away from the “reality” of shifting. Scripting isn’t fake—it’s preparation. The moment you shift, what you scripted becomes as real as your CR. So stop invalidating people’s methods just because you don’t like the format. 💁‍♀️✨

14: "Putting your DR on a pedestal makes it harder to get to."

Okay, now we’re talking sense. This take is 100% accurate, and it’s a trap that a lot of shifters fall into. When you treat your DR like it’s some magical, unattainable place, you create mental resistance that makes shifting harder.

Here’s why this is true:

Your subconscious mind follows your beliefs. If you see your DR as something distant or godlike, your subconscious will act accordingly. It’ll say, “Oh, we’re not worthy yet? Cool, let’s not shift.”

When you overhype your DR, you’re also adding unnecessary pressure. Shifting becomes less about the journey and more about the desperation to “make it happen.” That desperation creates doubt, which blocks your progress.

The trick? Normalize your DR. Think of it as a natural extension of your existence, not some impossible dream. It’s real, attainable, and waiting for you—you just have to stop psyching yourself out. DRs are exciting, but they’re not fairy tales. Treat them as real, and your subconscious will follow suit. ✨

15: "I'm really excited about going to my DR in the same way that I'm really excited about going to a theme park or to a museum. Something very exciting but also very real and attainable."

Another solid take—this is exactly the right mindset. Approaching your DR with excitement, but without putting it on a pedestal, is the sweet spot for successful shifting. It’s the energy of anticipation, not desperation, that aligns your mind with your destination.

Here’s why this works:

Excitement fuels intention. When you’re genuinely excited about shifting, your subconscious is more likely to cooperate because it associates your DR with positive emotions.

Seeing your DR as “real and attainable” grounds your belief system. If you treat it like a natural part of your reality, your mind will perceive it as such.

This take is also a great reminder that shifting is a journey, not a chore. Approach it with the same joy you’d have for any adventure, and the process becomes smoother. Your DR isn’t some untouchable fantasy—it’s a place you can visit with the right mindset. Theme park energy, but make it metaphysical. 🎢✨

16: "I'm not excited about going to my DR like some heavenly dream world. That's just unrealistic."

Thank you for saying this, because it’s time to drag the “heavenly DR” myth. DRs aren’t utopias, and expecting them to be perfect sets you up for disappointment. Shifting is about experiencing another reality, not escaping to some flawless paradise.

Here’s the tea:

Every DR has challenges. Just like CR, your DR will have ups and downs. That doesn’t make it any less real or amazing—it just makes it dynamic and authentic.

Thinking of your DR as a “heavenly dream world” adds unnecessary pressure. When you finally shift and realize your DR isn’t perfect, you risk feeling disillusioned or disappointed.

The truth? Your DR is real, but it’s not going to solve all your problems or fulfill all your fantasies. Treat it as an exciting new chapter, not a flawless escape. The more grounded your expectations, the more satisfying your experience will be. ✨

17: "Judging people for what they do in their DR based on CR standards is usually wrong."

Finally, a take that makes sense! This is the kind of nuance we need in the shifting community. DRs operate on their own rules, and trying to apply CR standards to them is like judging a fish for not climbing a tree.

Here’s why this is on point:

Different realities, different rules. What might be morally or socially acceptable in CR could be completely irrelevant in a DR. People shift to explore and experience, not to replicate the exact conditions of CR.

Judging others is counterproductive. Shifting is deeply personal. Someone’s DR journey might be about exploring sides of themselves that they suppress in CR, and that’s valid. As long as they’re not harming others, it’s not your business.

Let’s be clear, though: this doesn’t excuse harmful behavior in DRs. If someone’s intentionally scripting unethical or damaging scenarios, that’s a different conversation. But for the most part, let people live and shift without your CR morality checklist. 🌀✨

18: "Every single thing you script has far-reaching consequences that you cannot imagine until you get there. If you script that you can't sweat or can't grow body hair, you'll show up in your DR with some medical condition that causes those things."

Girl, when we thought there was progress... you do THIS?! Let’s break it down, because this take is serving a mix of paranoia and half-truths, and I’m disappointed.

Yes, scripting can shape your DR reality, but this idea that every single detail comes with “far-reaching consequences” is dramatic and misleading.

Scripting sets intentions. If you script that you don’t sweat, your DR might interpret that literally, but it doesn’t mean you’re suddenly cursed with a medical condition. Your DR adapts to your intentions, not in some twisted monkey’s paw way, but in alignment with your desires.

This take leans heavily into fear-mongering. It’s important to script mindfully, but implying that a poorly worded script will backfire catastrophically is unnecessary drama.

Let’s not scare people into thinking shifting is a minefield of unintended consequences. Scripting is flexible and intuitive. If you don’t like something in your DR, you can shift back and adjust. Chill, girl—it’s not that deep. 😒✨

19: "Things in reality don't just fucking happen for no reason."

This is facts, but let’s unpack it fully. Whether it’s CR or DR, reality operates on cause and effect. Your actions, intentions, and beliefs shape your experience.

Here’s the tea:

In shifting, your subconscious mind plays a huge role. Nothing “just happens.” If you experience something unexpected in your DR, it’s often tied to unintentional thoughts, emotions, or residual CR beliefs.

This take is a good reminder to take responsibility for your scripting and intentions. You are the architect of your DR. If something goes awry, it’s not because the universe is out to get you—it’s because of how you set the framework.

That said, let’s not act like every single thing needs to be micromanaged. Part of the fun of shifting is letting your DR surprise you. Control the big stuff, but leave room for spontaneity. Your DR doesn’t need to feel like a sterile checklist. ✨

20: "Scripting yourself a dysfunctional abusive family on purpose is fucked up."

YES, babe, say it louder for the people in the back! This is a take I fully agree with. If you’re intentionally scripting harmful or abusive dynamics into your DR, you need to seriously reflect on why.

Here’s why this is so problematic:

Your DR is a space for growth, healing, and exploration. Why would you willingly bring toxicity into it? If you want to explore complex relationships, that’s fine, but scripting outright abuse is deeply concerning.

This kind of scripting raises ethical red flags. Even if DR characters are technically constructs, the energy and intent behind scripting abuse can reflect unresolved issues or harmful tendencies.

Shifting is a powerful tool—don’t misuse it by scripting negativity for the sake of drama. If you’re scripting toxic situations, ask yourself what you’re really seeking. Your DR should uplift you, not drag you into unnecessary harm. Do better. 🖤✨

Let’s wrap this up with love and clarity, babes. 💖✨"

So, after unpacking @sectumsempress’s (Christine’s) points, here’s the bottom line: Shifting is YOUR journey. Some of her takes were valid, others were shaky, and a few? Well, they needed a reality check. But hey, that’s the beauty of conversations like these—it gives us a chance to reflect, grow, and strengthen our understanding of shifting.

Remember:

Shifting is deeply personal. What works for one person might not work for you, and that’s okay.

Misinformation doesn’t define you. Always question, explore, and trust your intuition.

You are capable, worthy, and enough. Whether you’re scripting, visualizing, or just starting out, your DR is closer than you think.

At the end of the day, the shifting community thrives when we support, uplift, and educate each other. So let’s keep pushing forward with confidence, kindness, and a whole lot of sass. Your reality is yours to create—don’t let anyone dim that light. 💅✨

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swytstars · 4 months ago

Text

coco-b(rat) kisses- JAKE SIM (MDNI 18+)

synopsis : Oh how of a brat you are in school, full of attitude and sarcasm, but the beauty and grace you bring out is what everyone agrees that makes you YOU. But the one and only Jake sim disagrees on that, you piss him off so much!! You're smart, pretty plus your sweet coco scent attracts the heck out of him in your AP classes, and he's not gonna deny that fact, but you constantly trying to steal HIS spotlight on the "weekly elite scholars" is chocking him. Would he put you in your place and fight for his spot or things take a change when you realize what he's trying to do?

Pairing : rival!popular Jake x popular!reader, all enhypen members, wonyoung + rei (IVE), sunwoo (tbz), hanni (NJZ), JULIE (kiss of life), RICKY (zb1),keeho (p1h)

warnings : SEMI-SMUT!! , profanity, kys/kms jokes, heated arguments, mention of death + family members, childhood trauma, peer pressure. slow burn. mdni 18+

genres: AU (not smau!!) rivals to lovers trope, senior + junior of high school era, coming of age, y/n gives off a massive SHERPAY EVANS VIBE, Jake is a massive nerd and sexy athlete in secret.

a/n: hello! This is written work which means sadly no smau until the (very) end! A reminder that under the age of 18 readers please please please get off my page😓 as much as I appreciate your support I am responsible for warning you before you read any further! Please enjoy and updates will be a bit slow as I'm in exam seasons (idk why I get the MOST ideas during this time, don't ask idek either and I wish I know too) but it's gonna be a long ride so buckle up my love!

TAGLIST : open STATUS : ONGOING

☆ DIARY ENTRY 0 - PRELUDE

☆ DIARY ENTRY 1 - BRAT OF THE YEAR

☆ DIARY ENTRY 2 - ARE YOU JELLY DUDE?

☆ DIARY ENTRY 3 - TBC..

☆ DIARY ENTRY 4 - TBC...

☆ DIARY ENTRY 5 - TBC...

☆ DIARY ENTRY 6 - TBC...

⋆౨ৎ˚ © swytstars on tumblr — do not copy or translate.

please reblog or comment to boost your writers

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jeyramarie · 25 days ago

Text

The recruit- Yelena Belova x reader (Season 2 Part 3)

summary: when they thought it couldn’t get more crazy, Congressman Barnes shows up.

w.c: 3,862

warnings: angst, mentions of gun

a/n: my apologies for this part coming out later than anticipated. the clinic i work at has been… tough this week 🤡 but anyway, without further ado, lmk if you wanna be tagged and happy reading 🤍

part 1~ part 2

Previously on the recruit..

The honking continued, getting louder and louder until the limo stopped right in front of them. A tall man got out of the car, waving his hands in the air.

“Yelena!” He shouted. “It’s dad! Don’t go into the vault! Valentina is going to burn you alive!”

John and Ava slowly turned their head towards her while Y/n kept her eyes on the man.

“Alexei?”

“Y/n?” Alexei spoke in surprise, watching the widow walking towards him.

He wrapped his arms around her, placing his hand behind her head for support. Alexei was almost fond of the y/h/c. Ever since he met her, he always felt a need to protect. The Russian never pinpointed the exact reason, but he always tried checking in on her from afar. Just like he did with Yelena all this time.

“So good to see you.” He smiled, parting from the hug.

“You too.” Y/n smiled. “How’s Melina?”

“Oh no, that’s-”

“Can you guys catch up later?” John interrupted, rolling his eyes. “We need to get going.”

Alexei raised his hands in surrender, walking backwards towards the driver seat. Yelena walked to the back, holding the door open for the y/h/c who pecked her lips before climbing inside. The blonde got in the front seat as Y/n moved next to Ava, right behind Alexei.

“So I was able to catch up with Miss Fontaine to fancy event, I thought it would be good for networking, you know?” He started, turning to look at Yelena for a quick second. “But as soon as I overheard the coordinates of the vault, I rush back home, get this tactical beast, then I drive straight here. Oh, America is so big. Have you ever drive through Oklahoma? It’s so fast. Oh, forgot to tell you, don’t drink from the Big Gulp back there.”

“Ew.” Y/n muttered, staring at the cup in disgust, quickly moving her eyes to the blonde.

“Alexei, have you slept?” Yelena asked, turning to face him.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead!” He shouted.

“I’d like not to die today, so maybe someone else should drive?” Walker suggested.

“Yeah, I can drive.” Y/n added, nodding her head.

“Mr. Walker, second coming of Captain America.” Alexie smiled, staring at the agent through the rearview mirror, completely ignoring the widow behind him. “You and I have much in common, you know? I, too, was a state-sponsored super soldier in Russia.”

“But also very different because Walker actually knows what he’s doing.” Yelena commented, staring out the window.

“Ghost, ah, what a magician.” Alexei continued. “You disappear, you reappear. When you reappear, does sometimes things not pop up in right places?”

“Oh, I find it best just to ignore him sometimes!”Yelena shouted to the back.

“What impressive friends you’ve gathered.”

“We are not friends, Alexei.” The blonde replied bitterly.

“No, we’re disposable delinquents.” Ava said, throwing her arm over the back of the seat.

“Whatever you are, the light inside you is brighter, you know?”

“That was very nice, Alexei, thank you.” Y/n smiled, patting his shoulder.

“How bout this?” He continued. “You are team of scrappy anti-heroes.”

“Yeah, right.” John scoffed. “Go Thunderbolts!”

“What? Yelena.” The Russian smiled, staring at his daughter. “You named them after your peewee soccer team?”

“Oh my god.” The blonde muttered in embarrassment.

“The West Chesapeake Valley Thunderbolts, sponsored by Dimitri’s Elite Industrial Lighting and Electronics.”

“No, no.” Yelena shook her head, speaking over Alexei.

“Never won a game, Yelena had so much fun. There was a girl who pooped during a game, it was crazy.”

“It was sponsored by Shane Tire Shop.”

“Shane?” Alexei squinted his eyes. “What are you talking about, Shane?”

“Yes, it was.” The blonde nodded, staring at her father with concern. “You really need to sleep.”

“What about this Bob you mentioned? What’s the plan? Where am I driving?”

“It’s not like that.” Yelena shook her head. “We need to escape and we need to hide.”

“Yeah, it’s much smarter for us to split up, there’s an airfield not far from here.” John shrugged. “We’ll just disappear from there.”

“Split up? No, no, no.” Alexei commented, sounding almost disappointed. “You may not see what I see but I have been around long time.”

“Yeah, no shit.” The agent muttered.

“This is the making of a team.” He started, lifting his fist. “That can raise to glory. A team that can bring light to darkness.”

“That’s nice, Alexei, but I really doubt they wanna be a team.” Y/n commented, leaning closer to him.

“A team of heroes that can be on the weakest spots.” He continued, completely ignoring the y/h/c.

“No, no, this is not a marketing opportunity, okay?” Yelena replied, raising her voice, feeling annoyed by her father. “Valentina is hunting us and we cannot win, do you understand?”

“Baby, maybe tone it down a bit?” Y/n muttered.

“Why?” She whispered, looking back at the y/h/c.

“I do, you don’t.” Alexei argued back, raising his voice. “You said that Valentina was going to use the power of this Sentry Project to take over and get us killed.”

“Yes, yes.” The blonde replies as Y/n turns her head to look at Ava and John, who seemed uninterested in the conversation.

“You need to stand up to her, you and your team-” The Russian continued but was quickly interrupted by John.

“Uh, you got a convoy approaching fast, step on it.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Alexei grunted, pushing his foot in the accelerator.

“Is that it?” Ava questioned, noticing the slight change of speed of the limousine.

“Can this go any faster?” Y/n asked, leaning into the window seal that led to the passenger seats.

“Takes a second.” He muttered, hitting the steering wheel.

“Alexei!” Yelena shouted, watching as the numbers on the dashboard only went up every 4 seconds.

“They’re getting closer.” Y/n announced after moving next to John, wanting to stay vigilant of the trucks. “Oh no, they have machine guns.”

Bullets began hitting the metal of the vehicle, causing the back passengers to duck before lifting their heads from time to time to stare out the window. The military trucks got faster, leaving dust and bullet casings on the way.

“Alexei!” John called out, ducking once again as the shots kept coming.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, she’s bullet proof.” He waved his hand. “Changing defensive measures.”

The Russian opened a small compartment under the radio, revealing a few buttons and switches. For a second, Yelena actually felt hopeful. For a second, she trusted that Alexei was gonna help get them out. Just like that mission in Ohio, right before she joined the Red Room. The bearded man pushed up a switch causing disco lights to turn on in the back of the limo. The song “Pony” blasted on the speakers, causing all three of them to look at him in question as Yelena sank in her seat in embarassment.

“What kind of people do you drive, Alexei?” Y/n asked in disgust before peeking over the back seat to hear the gunshots again.

The bullets hit the car rapidly, causing the back window to shatter as John placed his shield immediately.

“What happened to bulletproof?!” The agent shouted, pressing the shield harder against the seat cushion.

“Bullterproof-ish.” Alexei replied in panic.

“Jesus Christ!” The blonde shouted.

Gunshtos continued to attack the car, as John continued to shield the back window, restraining the bullets from coming inside. Y/n sat on the ground of the limousine, silently praying for a bullet to not catch her this time. Like she told Bob, it wasn’t the first time she was shot but considering the circumstances they were in and the lack of medical accessibility, getting shot was not an option.

“Time to bring out the bottle service.” Alexei said, moving his hand on his shoulde.” Come on, Ghost, give me the good stuff.”

“Not very inappropriate!” Ava shouted in doubt.”

“Vodka!” The Russian shouted. “Vodka now!”

The brunette hands him the bottle and he immediately takes off the cap. Alexei takes a sip before shoving a piece of cloth inside. He lit it on fire, throwing it out the window for all of them to watch the bottle crash onto one of the trucks. They all felt a glimpse of hope as they watched the front start catching fire before it extinguish immediately.

“Give me a break!” Walker shouted, covering them with his shield again.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” Ava announced before putting her helmet on again.

“Where are you going?” Y/n asked, watching as she disappeared from the seat before appearing on top of the trunk.

A loud screeching sound erupted from the trucks, causing Ava to press her hands over her mask. John grabbed her suit and pulled her into the limosine, before covering them from the bullets. Y/n reached for the brunette as she agonized, covering her ears. The y/h/c looked behind her to see the blonde pushing her body through the door to sit on it, taking out her gun in one swift motion.

“Yelena!” She shouted, hurrying towards the front seat opening. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

A loud explosion came up behind them, causing all of them to turn to see each truck come into blazing fire. Alexei looked through the rear view mirror as the rest looked out the back to see a man riding a motorcycle. He held a gun on his left arm, dricing closer to the limousine.

“Is that Bucky?” John spoke in disbelief.

“Oh, oh, Winter Soldier.” Alexei spoke proudly.

Bucky released the wire of the last truck, before stopping his bike to get off. He grabbed the wire, wrapping it around his wrist to push it to the ground, causing the truck to flip over.

“Now that’s what I talk about!” The russian shouted with his fist in the air in victory.

John shouted in emotion along with Ava who slapped the seat in celebration. It was then that Bucky lifted his gun again, shooting something that landed on the trunk of the limousine. The object started beeping rapidly, causing all of them to stare in fear.

The device exploded, causing the limousine to lift up by the trunk before falling on its hood. John grunted as he lifted his head, looking around to see Ava crawling towards the broken window. They stepped outside and were immediately targeted by Bucky while Yelena began to open her eyes. The blonde felt confused, quickly remembering the y/h/c that laid a bit far from her.

“Y/n.” She muttered as Alexei woke up as well, looking to the side to his daughter crawling to the back.

Yelena reached Y/n, placing one hand on her chest while the other moved the hairs away from her face. Fear erupted in her mind, feeling as her chest began to close up.

“Y/n, come on.” She muttered, rubbing her thumb over the widow’s cheek.

“Is she okay?” Alexei asked, turning to look at them.

“I don’t know, she’s not waking up.” Yelena’s voice broke as she shook Y/n’s shoulders. “Baby, come on, open your eyes.”

After a few seconds, the y/h/c finally opened her eyes, immediately meeting the soft green orbs that always seem to bring her down to Earth. She took a deep breath, taking in her surroundings as the blonde kept pushing her hair back.

“We have to crawl out of here.” Yelena said, grabbing the widow’s hand to pull her on her hands and knees.

“Everytime I seem to feel okay, there’s always another freaking accident.” Y/n groaned in pain before looking up. “Anything else you got for me, God?”

“I’m sure God has got you covered if you’re still breathing.” Yelena chuckled, crawling out the window before turning to help the y/h/c crawl out. “There we go, careful with the glass.”

Y/n held Yelena’s hands, standing on her feet as she caught her breath. She looked over the blonde’s shoulder to see everyone tied up, sitting on the ground with Bucky standing next to them, pointing a gun at them. Yelena turned around, lifting her hand towards him to release the widow bites when Y/n grabbed her arm, lowering it slowly.

“Hi, Bucky.” She spoke, causing the blonde to stare in question. “Or should I say Congressman?”

“How have you been?” He asked with a chuckle as the widow smiled.

“I’ve been good.”

“What the hell is happening?” Yelena questioned turning to Y/n. “How do you know him?”

“I worked with him before Valentina recruited me.”

“She helped me with all the tech stuff at the Avengers Compound.” Bucky replied, nodding his head with an awkward smile.

“Okay, so, why are you here?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I have to do this.”

“Do what-” Y/n began and was quickly cut off by a taser divide thrown at her.

Her body convulsed rapidly as she lost all her ability to move, making her fall to the ground. Yelena attempted to fight but was quickly hit with the taser as well, falling on her knees. The blonde tried to reach out to the y/h/c but her arm was pulled back by Bucky, who placed electric handcuffs on her.

A few minutes later they all sat in the garage of an abandoned gas station. Ava and Alexei sat next to each other while John, Y/n and Yelena sat across from them. Their restraints had been upgraded to metal wires and zipties, allowing Bucky to freely stand against the wall. He stared in deep thought, wondering why Valentina had recruited these kinds of people. Especially someone like Y/n, who to him, always had great potential.

“No, no, no!” Alexei exclaimed. “Just when I’m getting my team together. Mister Soldier, you are making terrible mistake.”

“Save it for the committee.” He replied bitterly.

“What committee?” Yelena asked, turning her head towards him.

“All of you are evidence in the impeachment trial against Valentina.”

“We don’t even work for Valentina anymore.” Y/n rolled her eyes, scooching closer to Yelena.

“She tried to kill us.” Ava chimed in, leaning forward to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“We were ordered to destroy all of her secrets.” John added, shaking his head. “Actually, she sent us to kill each other in this vault.”

“But then we met Bob.” Y/n shrugged.

“There was a man in the vault.” Yelena spoke, looking at the Congressman. “She’s done something to him, it’s called Project Sentry.”

“He shot up into the sky, he exploded and then he crashed into this mountain and then he died, didn’t die-”

“Yes, I got it.” Bucky spat, cutting Ava’s explanation. “He’s very, very scary.”

“Congressman Barnes.” John called out.

“Alright, Walker.” He replied, walking behind Alexei and Ava to stand in front of the agent.

The atmosphere shifted immediately. Whatever it was that these two men had, there was strong tension. Violent tension.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you know me, Bucky.” John stared with sincere eyes. “So cut the shit and listen to what we’re trying to tell you.”

“Yeah, I know you, John.” Bucky spat, placing his hands on his hips. “And you made your choices. I know it’s been hard since Olivia left and took your kid, but still, this is on you.”

“Barnes, that’s enough.” Y/n spoke, breaking the silence as she followed him with her eyes, returning to where he stood earlier. “There’s no need for you to speak about private things right no-”

“What? You’re defending him now?”

“I’m just saying that talking about John’s… situation, it’s not something you can just blurt out.” Y/n argued, staring at the agent with apologetic eyes.

“You know, Y/n, you’ve always been too nice for this line of work.” Bucky shook his head. “Bucky, there won’t be any committee left.” Ava spoke, changing the topic as she noticed the change in the energy of the room. “Okay? There might not even be a government, she has big-”

“Threads, yes, I got it, named Bob or Sentry, who flies, right?” Bucky spoke, feeling annoyed. “And you’re all heroes going after Val, ready to save the day.”

“We weren’t gonna go after her together.” John muttered in defeat.

“We were just trying to get home alive, actually.” Yelena shrugged.

“That’s even more pathetic.” The Winter Soldier shouted, turning around to face the window.

Alexei muttered something in Russian causing the blonde to shush him. Bucky’s phone ran, he picked it up almost immediately. He spoke in a hush tone, as Y/n leaned over to speak into Yelena’s ear.

“Are we really gonna testify against Valentina?” She whispered.

“I hope not, I just want to go home with you.” The blonde replied with a soft smile.

Y/n leaned forward, connecting their lips in a quick peck before Bucky’s voice burst their small love bubble.

“Bob?” He questioned, turning to them.

“Bob!” They all exclaimed, nodding their heads.

He remained quiet, furrowing his brows as he listened to the other person on the line. They all stared at each other in question, wondering if he wanted for one of them to speak or to just stay quiet. He finally hung up, looking up at them, quiet.

“It’s bad, Bucky.” Yelena spoke.

He walked behind Alexei, ripping away his handcuffs before moving to Ava.

“What are you doing?” She asked in fear.

“I’m letting you go.” He grunted, moving over to John’s side. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why?”

“Shh, for the glory.” Alexei whispered.

“Well you know Valentina, she's got this thing out there, people are gonna get hurt.” He groaned, cutting off Y/n and Yelena’s restraints. “And I gotta stop and her and you are gonna help me.”

“Wait, us?” Yelena asked in disbelief.

“Why? You got some place to be?”

“Bucky, you have the wrong people.” The blonde shook her head.

“Look, I’ve been where you are, you can run but it doesn’t go away.” Bucky sighed. “Sooner or later, it’s gonna catch up to you and when it does, it’s too late. See, you can either do something about it now, or live with it forever.”

“Stop Val and save Bob.” Yelena spoke, breaking the silence before looking up at herdad who stared proudly.

“I’m in.” Y/n smiled as John and Ava agreed before they all turned to the Russian.

“Yes!” He shouted. “Yes!”

They all stood up, following Bucky towards a storage truck. Alexei climbed in the passenger seat as John, Ava, Yelena and Y/n sat on the back. The truck was empty, perfect for a decoy car to be hidden in sight. The blonde grabbed the y/h/c’s hand, squeezing it before lifting it to kiss her knuckles.

“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet.” Yelena asked, as Y/n leaned against the wall before turning to look at her.

“Just thinking about what Bucky said earlier.” She bit her cheek from the inside. “How I was too nice for this line of work… He told me that, my frst day at the compound. Everyone rejected me, no one wanted to work with me but I was always there helping them… even if they were mean to me.”

“That says more about you than them.” The blonde smiled, tightening her grip on her hand. “When we first met, you were always so nice to me and I was clearly a bitch because I hated working with partners… and yet, there you were always looking out for me.”

“I’ll always look out for you, I love you.”

“I know, I love you too.” Yelena smiled, leaning in to connect their lips in a soft kiss.

She lifted her free hand, cupping the y/h/c’s cheek, pulling her closer to deepen the kiss. Their lips fit together as if they belonged with each other. They were so in trance, that none of them heard John calling out for them.

“Yelena.” He spoke, looking at Ava in disgust before turning to the couple. “Y/n.”

They broke apart in awe with one another before Yelena threw John a death stare, causing him to shift in place.

“What were you talking about?” Y/n asked, shifting closer to Yelena to wrap their arms together.

“The weapons we carry.” Ava replied, leaning forward.

“Oh well, I have these little widow, tzz tzz, zappy things.” Yelena spoke, lifting her right wrist, before taking out her gun. “I have this .19.”

“.45.” John said, showing his gun, smoothly realizing the bellet barrel. “The long barrel.”

“Oh wow.” Ava nodded her head, not feeling amused. “It’s big.”

“It’s long.” Yelena added, causing Y/n to chuckle under breath. “What about your hat?”

“My hat? You mean my helmet?”

“Whatever you wanna call it.” The blonde shrugged without a care.

John and Yelena kept going back and forth over the appearance of the helmet as Y/n began to notice that the drive was getting a bit longer than expected.

“Are we actually going to the Avengers tower? Is it even still the Avengers tower?” She squinted her eyes, looking at the rest of the group in question.

“Yes and I don’t know.” Ava replied before shouting. “Are we there yet?!”

“Almost!” Bucky and Alexei shouted back as they stayed sitting down.

Suddenly the van’s movement caused them to jerk to the side before quickly recovering. They all stood up and prepared their weapons to execute Bucky’s plan. Or what they thought was a plan. Gunshots were heard from inside the truck, queuing John to open the door upward. They piled out, finding one person to fight against.

A guard launched at Y/n, causing her to duck, swinging her knife acrodd his abdomen. The man fell immediatly as another one came running towards her. She grabbed her wrist, stepped on his foot, watching as he released the gun. The y/h/c caught it in mid air, pointing it over her shoulder to shoot, where it landed on his neck. Out of nowhere, a strong arm came around her neck as she felt the hard barrel of the gun against her back. She elbowed the man’s ribs and took the opportunity to knee him in the abdomen before grabbing her knife once again to stab it into the back of his neck. Y/n ripped away the knife and turned to Yelena when-

BEEP

“Jesus, you guys, we literally just put that drywall in.” Valentina spoke through the speaker. “I left the door unlocked for you, come up.”

They all stared at each other in confusion. She left the door “unlocked” so she was waiting for them. Valentina knew they were coming. Bucky walked towards the elevator first, pushing the button as the rest of the team walked closer to him. Yelena grabbed Y/n’s hand, intertwining their fingers together, silently reassuring each other that they were okay. The doors opened with a small ding, making them all pile into it. The y/h/c looked at the blonde, giving her hand a small squeeze before looking forward at the door. Y/n couldn't pinpoint the reason at the moment, she couldn’t tell her girlfriend, considering how crowded the elevator was. But a little voice inside her head told her that something was wrong, something was going to happen. She just hoped it didn’t have to do with Bob.

yelena taglist: @imfuckinggenius @yelenabelovasbxtch @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ilovewinter101 @s1ut4nat @nebulablakemurphy @theshippergal @kacka84 @an-evergreen-rose @wandaswifeyforlifey @loomontoia @zombies1ayea @baylegend6 @twentyonetornmyheart @screechcat

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x you #yelena belova fic #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova smut #yelena belova angst #yelena belova fluff #thunderbolts*#the new avengers

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sapphiresaphics · 3 months ago

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Part of the frustration we have with the whole “Caitlyn is a dictator!” argument is because it ignores Ambessa.

Martial Law was already declared by Ambessa and the Piltover Elite BEFORE Caitlyn was nominated to be general. Do you guys remember how Mel was tracking what Ambessa was doing behind the scene with rallying together Piltover elite to unify before Jinx’s terrorist attack? Caitlyn didn’t declare martial law, Caitlyn was put in charge of martial law.

Caitlyn was shoved into that role when she was the most vulnerable and most easily manipulated. And she spends the greater half of the rest of the season PUSHING BACK against Ambessa’s rhetoric. Every fucking scene we get with her is her challenging and standing up to Ambessa. The ONLY time we see her falter is when Jinx is involved in the prison break because Jinx is the only thing she’s actually after.

Caitlyn has no use for Stillwater’s deepest dungeons. Caitlyn despises Singe for unleashing Shimmer on Zaun’s people. Caitlyn refuses to arrest people without probable cause. Caitlyn suspects Ambessa is up to something and actively investigated and betrays her when she figures out what it is.

What Caitlyn did is bad. But she’s not HITLER. She’s not even an Elon Musk. And your willful blaming of her when Ambessa is RIGHT THERE PULLING THE STRINGS shows me that 1) you don’t understand the story being told, 2) care more about performative moralizing than genuine critique, and 3) are very likely homophobic.

#arcane #arcane season 2 #caitlyn kiramman #arcane critical is a bad faith hashtag #bad arcane criticism #i’m so sick of these ridiculously bad takes #bad faith criticism #Ambessa is right there

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witchyintention · 5 months ago

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Red Flags to Watch for Online as a Witch or Pagan

The internet is a wonderful place for witches and pagans to connect, learn, and share experiences. But just like a bubbling cauldron can contain both healing potions and questionable concoctions, the online witchcraft and pagan community has its fair share of red flags. Whether you're a seasoned practitioner or a baby witch just starting out, knowing what to look out for can save you from misinformation, scams, and straight-up cult-like behavior.

1. The "One True Way" Mentality

If someone claims their way is the only correct way, run. Fast. Witchcraft and paganism are vast, diverse, and deeply personal paths. No single tradition, spell, or deity is superior to another. Anyone who insists otherwise is likely more interested in controlling you than in fostering genuine spiritual growth.

2. Gatekeeping and Elitism

"You’re not a real witch unless you do XYZ." Sound familiar? Gatekeeping is rampant online, and it usually serves to boost egos rather than build community. Whether it’s requiring a specific lineage, expensive tools, or obscure knowledge, true spiritual paths welcome curiosity and growth, not exclusion.

3. Charging Exorbitant Fees for Basic Knowledge

It’s fair for experienced practitioners to charge for in-depth classes, readings, or handcrafted tools. But if someone wants hundreds of dollars to "unlock your true potential" or sell you a "highly exclusive" spellbook, take a step back. A lot of foundational knowledge in witchcraft and paganism is freely available through books, forums, and online communities.

4. Fear-Based Marketing

Beware of anyone who tells you that you’re cursed and that only *they* can remove it—for a hefty fee, of course. Fear-based marketing plays on insecurity and panic, leading people to spend unnecessary money or perform rituals they don’t understand. Authentic practitioners empower, not frighten.

5. Toxic Positivity or Love-and-Light Only Spaces

Yes, positivity is great, but shadow work and acknowledging the dark are just as important as embracing the light. Beware of spaces that shut down conversations about struggle, trauma, or the more challenging aspects of spiritual growth. True spirituality isn't just "good vibes only."

6. Cult-Like Behavior

If a group or individual discourages questioning, insists you cut off family and friends, or demands unwavering loyalty, you’re stepping into cult territory. Healthy communities encourage independence and critical thinking.

7. Misinformation and Historical Inaccuracy

Social media is full of posts that sound mystical but are factually incorrect. If someone confidently declares that "witches were burned at the stake in Salem" (they weren’t, they were hanged), or claims an ancient spell that clearly came from a 1970s book, do some fact-checking. Reliable sources and scholarly research are your friends.

8. Unverified UPG as Universal Truth

UPG (Unverified Personal Gnosis) refers to personal spiritual experiences. They can be powerful, but they’re just that—personal. If someone insists their deity *only* communicates in a specific way or that their interpretation is the only correct one, take it with a grain of salt.

9. Overuse of Fear Tactics About "Wrong" Practices

While certain precautions in magic are important, some practitioners online will have you believe that if you so much as light a candle incorrectly, you’ll be cursed for eternity. Magic isn’t that fragile. Mistakes happen, and the universe isn’t waiting to punish you for using the wrong incense.

10. Exclusivity and Hierarchies in Online Groups

Some online covens or groups try to create a hierarchy where only a select few are deemed "worthy" of deeper knowledge. While mentorship and initiatory traditions do exist, beware of groups that make you jump through endless hoops for basic spiritual insights.

11. Fake "Secret Ancient Knowledge" Claims

If someone claims to have knowledge that no one else in the history of witchcraft has ever had and will only share it for a price, it’s likely nonsense. Most magical traditions have been passed down for centuries, and while personal gnosis is valid, true wisdom isn’t exclusive.

12. Cultural Appropriation Disguised as Spirituality

Be mindful of practitioners who claim to be able to teach you "Native American Shamanism" when they have no actual connection to the culture, or those who mix and match sacred traditions without understanding them. Respect and research go a long way.

13. Demonization of Certain Practices Without Context

If someone tells you that working with certain deities or spirits is automatically "evil" without any nuance, they’re likely spreading fear-based misinformation. Not every dark god is "dangerous," and not every light being is "safe." Context is everything.

14. "Instant Results" Promises

If someone guarantees that their spell or product will give *instant* results, be skeptical. Magic, like anything worth doing, takes effort, energy, and patience. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

15. Dismissing Science Entirely

While magic and spirituality involve metaphysical elements, dismissing science completely is a big red flag. If someone tells you that "quantum physics proves magic is real" but can’t explain how, or insists that modern medicine is useless in favor of "pure energy healing," be cautious.

Final Thoughts

Navigating the online witchcraft and pagan community can be both magical and overwhelming. The key is to stay curious, question things that don’t sit right, and trust your intuition. The best teachers and communities will encourage your growth, not stifle it.

Happy practicing, and may your online journey be as enlightening as your magical path!

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How to Support the Blog

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💜 Love the blog? Subs on Ko-fi & Patreon (18+) get to see posts before they go live on Tumblr! I also offer readings and spells in my Ko-fi Shop!

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billielolly · 10 months ago

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Sims 3 Build - Brownstone Townhouse

This brownstone townhouse is perfect for a large sim family - with a nursery and all. 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms on a 30x20 lot.

Watch the speed build: https://youtu.be/O5xdt7HCdFU

Download here:

Patreon (free): https://www.patreon.com/posts/109702177/

Exchange:

Expansion packs:

World Adventures

Ambitions

Late Night

Generations

Pets

Showtime

Supernatural

Seasons

University Life

Stuff packs:

None

Store content:

None

Custom content:

PralineSims - P-Glass Tiles III

Wandering Sims - Gentle Leaf Pattern 3

Wandering Sims - Nocturnal Watercolor Pattern 8

missyzim - Neoclassic Build Set (Window Arched Short, Arched Door)

Martassimsbook - cmdesigns Anemone Bathroom Set (Candle, Small Mirror)

Martassimsbook - Sims 4 Parenthood Xtreme Shower Tub

ATS3 - Canister

Martassimsbook - Syboulette Millennial Kitchen (Dish Soap, Dishes Rack, Utensils Pot)

Cakenoodles - 13pumpkin Rustic Wood Floor

Martassimsbook - Ars-botanica Cup of Pansies

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild Dahlia and Delpinium Vases

Martassimsbook - novvvas Planties pt3 (Ficus Lyrata V1, Ficus Elastica, Monstera Deliciosa)

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild My Home Set Hanging Pothos Plant

Martassimsbook - Novvvas Mid Century Modern Living Room Succulent 2

Martassimsbook - Lorelea Abstract Paintings

Julietsimscc - Dolce Vita Paintings (Small + Medium Frame)

Julietsimscc - Giveaway Gift Paintings (Without Borders)

Wandering Sims - Summer String Pictures 1

Wandering Sims - Summer String Pictures 2

johziii - Irene Posters

cozygirlsimmer - simkoos Simple Modern Tumbler

PralineSims - Beautiful Sheep Rug 4

PralineSims - Contemporary Carpet 32

Onyxium - Newell Rug

Angela - Michelle Bedroom Mirror

TheNumbersWoman - Shabby Chic Elite Living Curtains One Tile

TheNumbersWoman - Shabby Chic Elite Living Venetian Blinds 1 Tile Short

NynaeveDesign - Lyne Curtains 2x1

ATS3 - Toothbrush #2

Martassimbook - PsychicPeanutKitty December Clutter Books

Wandering Sims - Kids Wall Art 9

Wandering Sims - Kids Wall Art 14

Wandering Sims - Kids Wall Art 15

pyszny16 - Reading Corner Bookshelf

pyszny16 - Kilburn Bedroom Calendar

Julietsimscc - CWB Kids Bedroom Freebies (Unicorn Head, Teddy Bear)

Martassimsbook - Syboulette Dreamy Set Rug

ATS3 - Coastal Crib

ATS3 - Tam-Tam Bedroom Dresser

ArtVitalex - Kiester Bench

ATS3 - Apron

ATS3 - Rack with Chopping Board & Knives

ArtVitalex - April Kitchen

Lulu265 - Lily Dining Mirror

ArtVitalex - Rowlett Key Bowl

Mutske - Medium Palm

ArtVitalex - Ullery Living (Rug, Seat Double, Seat Single)

#ts3 #ts3cc #s3cc #the sims 3 #simblr #ts3 build #sims 3 build #sims 3 house #ts3 house #sims 3

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romanceclubofficial · 1 year ago

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🔔🔔🔔 New episodes release schedule 🔔🔔🔔

The release of the new episodes is scheduled for August 8th to August 9th.

LOVE FROM OUTER SPACE Season 2 (final), episode 11

PATH OF THE VALKYRIE Season 3 (final), episode 9 Season 3 (final), episode 10 (finale)

ELITE TAG Season 3 (final), episode 9 Season 3 (final), episode 10 (finale)

SONG OF THE CRIMSON NILE Season 2, episode 7 Season 2, episode 8

W: TIME CATCHER Season 2, episode 7 Season 2, episode 8

KALI: FLAME OF SAMSARA Season 2, episode 3 Season 2, episode 4

GARDEN OF EDEN Season 2, episode 6 Season 2, episode 7 Season 2, episode 8

SOULLESS Season 2, episode 4 Season 2, episode 5 Season 2, episode 6

ASTREA'S BROKEN HEART Season 1, episode 9 Season 1, episode 10 Season 2, episode 1

HEAVEN'S SECRET: REQUIEM Season 1, episode 9 Season 1, episode 10 Season 2, episode 1

AND THE HAZE WILL TAKE US Season 1, episode 3 Season 1, episode 4 Season 1, episode 5

STORY 43 Season 1, episode 1

DRACULA: A LOVE STORY No new episodes ⚠️Due to the author's personal reasons.

HELL AND HIGH WATER No new episodes ⚠️The release of new episodes is temporarily suspended.

CHASING YOU 2 No new episodes ⚠️Due to the author's personal reasons.

LOVE, SIN & EVIL, VOL.1 No new episodes ⚠️Due to the author's personal reasons.

7 BROTHERS No new episodes ⚠️The team is on vacation.

#romance club #your story interactive

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aspenmissing · 5 months ago

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Heyaa! have a little request for you <3

Young Silco x Piltover Reader

Slow Burn Romance

Reader wants to explore the undercity and finds"The Last Drop". She meets a young man called "Silco", where there friendship starts to grow. She wants to learn more about the life in the undercity - He wants to learn more about Piltover (which is a lie - He only wants to be close to her). Maybe Reader decides to stay with him?

But seriously: We need a Spin-Off about young Silco and Vander. Season 2 wasn't enough ;-;

ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʟʟ

ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜰᴇᴀᴛ. ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴇʟɪᴄɪᴀ) || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 9449 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ ɪᴍᴘʀɪꜱᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ, ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɪꜱꜱᴜᴇꜱ, ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏᴏᴄ ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ! ꜱᴏ, ɪ ᴍᴀʏ ᴏʀ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀʙᴏᴀʀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟɪᴇ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇꜱ. ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ!! <3 <3

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

In the heart of Piltover, where the glass towers reached into the sky, there lived a young woman named Y/N. She came from a family of considerable standing, whose wealth and power were woven deep into the fabric of Piltover. Despite this, Y/N's heart was restless. The world above was comfortable, yes, but it never fully satisfied her curiosity, her longing for something more. Her parents, steadfast in their views, believed that someone of her status should not need to work—that her place was among the elite, attending social events and maintaining the family's reputation. Yet, Y/N couldn't silence the feeling that something was missing.

It was during a rare night off, after another long round of lavish gatherings, that Y/N found herself driven by an unshakable itch. Her soul craved something deeper than the gilded cage her family had built for her. She longed to know the world beyond Piltover's pristine walls, to see the real life hidden in the shadows. And so, she decided to venture into the Undercity, a place her parents spoke of only in whispers.

She had heard of a place known as The Last Drop, a bar that was said to be the meeting ground of the Undercity's toughest. It was here that her journey began, drawn by a desire to understand a world so foreign to her. As she entered, the dim light and the heavy scent of alcohol and smoke met her senses, mixing with the distant murmur of hushed conversations and clinking glasses.

She hadn’t intended to draw attention to herself, but as soon as she entered, a pair of sharp eyes locked onto her. Silco. His gaze was intense, calculating, as if he could see right through her. She tried to blend in, her cloak drawing a veil over her identity, but it was clear that she didn’t belong. Silco, however, was no stranger to Piltover’s elites sneaking down into the Undercity, and he didn’t take kindly to the unexpected presence of one so high-born in his domain.

Before she could even make her way further into the room, his hand shot out, gripping her arm firmly. His dark eyes bore into hers as he pulled her away from the centre of the room.

"Not safe for someone like you to be walking around here unguarded," he said, his voice low and commanding, laced with suspicion. "Why are you here?"

Y/N was startled by the suddenness of his action, but she steadied herself quickly. The force of his grip was firm, but she didn’t flinch. "I wanted to see it. I wanted to understand... the Undercity," she replied, her voice a mix of nervousness and defiance.

He paused, sizing her up. "Curious little thing, aren’t you?" he said, his tone sharp, though there was a flicker of something else in his gaze. "Most people from Piltover don’t have the nerve to come down here."

Y/N met his eyes, holding her ground. "I’m not like most people."

Silco studied her for a long moment, his face unreadable, before he released his hold on her arm. He didn’t say another word but gestured for her to follow.

As the weeks passed, Y/N returned to The Last Drop again and again. Her desire to understand this world, to unravel its mysteries, was growing stronger with each visit. Silco, always watching from the shadows, began to take notice of her persistence. He found it intriguing—her quiet determination to see beyond what Piltover wanted her to see.

One evening, as she slipped into the dimly lit bar, Silco finally addressed her directly.

"I expected curiosity to wane. And yet, here you are. Again." His voice was smooth, measured, laced with an amusement she couldn’t quite place.

Y/N met his gaze, unflinching. "And I expected more resistance. Yet, here you are, indulging me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned back against the bar, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Curiosity can be dangerous here. People don’t come down from their golden towers without reason. What is yours?"

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders as she looked around the room, at the faces hardened by survival, at the weight of the Undercity pressing down on them all. "I want to understand. Not just what Piltover teaches. Not just the stories we tell ourselves to sleep at night."

Silco regarded her for a long moment, his good eye gleaming in the low light. "Understanding is a slippery thing," he mused. "And knowledge has a price."

Y/N tilted her head. "Then tell me. Let me decide whether I’m willing to pay it."

With each meeting, Silco shared more of his world with her, telling her about the Undercity—its politics, the injustices, the power struggles. In return, Y/N spoke of the world above, of Piltover’s order and innovation. She was fascinated by Silco’s vision for the Undercity, his ambition to change the system that had always kept them down. And he, in turn, was captivated by her perspective—a woman born into wealth and status, yet willing to look beyond her comfortable life to understand the people she had been taught to ignore.

Over the next few months, their meetings grew more frequent, and the connection between Y/N and Silco deepened, shifting from mere mutual understanding to something more complicated. Silco began to trust her enough to confide in her, revealing aspects of his life and past that he rarely shared with anyone. It wasn’t long before he began introducing her to those closest to him—people who had stood by his side for years, each with their own scars and stories.

But it wasn’t just The Last Drop where they met anymore. Silco began taking her beyond its walls, leading her through the winding streets of Zaun, showing her the city through his eyes.

"If you truly wish to understand this place, you can’t just sit in a bar and listen to stories," he told her one evening, stepping out onto the uneven cobblestone roads. "You need to see it. To breathe it in."

And so, he guided her through the smog-laden streets, past neon-lit alleys where children played with makeshift toys, their laughter echoing against the walls of rusted metal and worn brick. He showed her the factories where workers toiled for scraps, the clinics barely keeping the sick alive, the markets where traders haggled over scarce supplies.

"This is the Undercity," he murmured as they walked. "Not the one Piltover tells stories about. Not the one they pretend doesn’t exist. This is the real Zaun."

Y/N took it all in, her eyes moving over the people, their expressions ranging from hardened resignation to quiet defiance. There was suffering here, yes, but there was also resilience, a will to survive that burned in every glance, every movement.

"They don’t need pity," Silco continued, watching her closely. "They need change. They need someone who won’t just look, but who will fight to give them more."

As the weeks went by, he took her deeper still. Into the underground chem-labs where shimmer was refined, the hidden corridors where deals were struck in hushed tones. He introduced her to those who mattered—those who shaped the flow of life in Zaun, whether in the shadows or in the open.

Just as Silco had shown Y/N the truth of Zaun—the struggles, the resilience, the reality beyond Piltover’s carefully curated narratives—Y/N wanted to show him the other side. The reality of Piltover, not the pristine illusion the Undercity despised, but the complexities beneath its polished surface.

However, Silco had always been cautious. Growing up in Zaun had made him that way. Distrust was second nature, especially when it came to the city above and those who called it home. But something about Y/N’s insistence—her unwavering resolve, the way she refused to back down—made him hesitate. Made him consider the possibility that, perhaps, there was more to see.

One evening, as they sat in the shadowy corner of The Last Drop, the low hum of conversation surrounding them, Silco leaned back in his chair. His fingers tapped a slow, rhythmic pattern against the worn wooden table as he studied her, his sharp gaze unreadable.

"You truly believe there's something worth showing me up there?" he murmured, his voice low, sceptical but not dismissive.

Y/N met his gaze head-on, unwavering. "I know there is."

Silco exhaled slowly, his fingers stilling against the table as he considered her words. His good eye flickered with something unreadable—wariness, curiosity, perhaps even the faintest trace of amusement.

"And what exactly do you think I’ve failed to see?" he asked, tilting his head.

Y/N leaned forward slightly, her expression calm but resolute. "That Piltover isn’t as perfect as it pretends to be, but it also isn’t as simple as you believe." She rested her arms on the table, her fingers lacing together. "You think it's all greed and control. That everyone up there looks down on Zaun without a second thought. And yes, some do. But not all."

Silco let out a quiet scoff, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Naïve."

"Realistic," she corrected. "You showed me Zaun beyond the stories I was raised on. Let me do the same."

For a long moment, he said nothing. The dim candlelight flickered between them, casting shifting shadows across his sharp features. His silence stretched, and Y/N knew he was weighing the risks, calculating every possibility as he always did.

Finally, Silco set his glass down with a soft clink and leaned forward, mirroring her stance.

"Alright," he murmured, voice low and measured. "Show me."

The next evening, under the cover of dusk, Y/N led Silco through the winding streets of Piltover. The air was crisp, cleaner than the thick, chemical-laced atmosphere of Zaun, but Silco remained on edge, his movements careful, his sharp gaze scanning the people around them.

He had been to Piltover before, of course—years ago, when he was younger, more reckless, before he truly understood how dangerous the city above could be for someone like him. Back then, he had been a ghost slipping through its streets, unnoticed, unseen. Now, walking beside Y/N, he felt exposed.

"You’re tense," she noted, glancing up at him.

"I have every reason to be," he muttered, adjusting his coat. "Piltover isn't kind to men like me."

"Then let me handle this," Y/N assured him, leading him further into the city.

She didn’t take him to the grand, glittering districts where the wealthy paraded in their finery. Instead, she led him through quieter streets, where the scholars and artisans lived, where innovation and knowledge flourished away from the political games of the Council.

They passed a small bakery where a woman called out to Y/N with a warm smile, offering fresh bread from a tray. Y/N handed Silco a piece without hesitation, as if daring him to see Piltover as more than just its elite. Further along, a group of children dashed past them, laughing as they played a game with chalk-drawn lines on the cobblestones.

Silco remained quiet, observing everything, absorbing the details like a man waiting for the catch.

Finally, Y/N stopped outside a modest workshop, its windows illuminated with soft golden light. She pushed open the door, gesturing for him to follow.

Inside, the scent of ink and parchment filled the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of machinery. Books lined the walls, some stacked haphazardly on wooden desks where half-finished inventions lay scattered amongst schematics and notes. An elderly man, his spectacles perched at the edge of his nose, looked up from his work.

"Ah, Y/N," he greeted warmly before his gaze shifted to Silco. His brows raised slightly, but there was no hostility, only curiosity. "And this must be your… guest."

Silco said nothing, simply watching.

"Professor Aldric," Y/N introduced, stepping forward. "He’s one of the few who’s spent his life studying both Piltover and Zaun. He doesn’t take sides—he seeks understanding."

Aldric chuckled, setting down his pen. "Understanding is often more dangerous than taking sides, my dear." His gaze flickered back to Silco. "But you already know that, don’t you?"

Silco’s lips curled into a small, unreadable smirk. "Perhaps."

Y/N turned to him, her expression softer now. "You wanted to see another side of Piltover. This is it."

Silco glanced around the room, at the knowledge laid bare, at the quiet resistance against ignorance. His fingers brushed absently against the edge of a blueprint, tracing the lines of an invention he didn’t yet understand.

For the first time since stepping into Piltover, he wasn’t just looking for its flaws.

He was listening.

Silco began to trust her enough to confide in her, revealing aspects of his life and past that he rarely shared with anyone. It wasn’t long before he began introducing her to those closest to him—people who had stood by his side for years, each with their own scars and stories.

One evening, as the low hum of conversation filled the smoky air of The Last Drop, Silco motioned for Y/N to join him in the back room. He had clearly been preparing for this moment.

“Y/N, this is Vander,” Silco said, nodding toward a tall, broad-shouldered man who stood with an air of quiet authority. Vander’s rugged face was framed by dark, untamed hair, and his eyes held the weight of many battles fought, both external and internal. There was a quiet power in him, an unspoken command that seemed to radiate from his very presence.

Vander’s gaze softened when he met Y/N’s eyes, a mixture of curiosity and caution in his steady look. He gave her a small nod in greeting, sizing her up with an unspoken understanding. He was the kind of man who could read people without saying a word, and Y/N felt the weight of his scrutiny, though it wasn’t unkind.

“And this is Felicia,” Silco added, gesturing to a woman who stood at the far end of the room. She had striking purple hair that cascaded around her shoulders in soft waves, and a confident, almost mischievous glint in her eyes. Felicia radiated an energy that could have been described as both sharp and warm—a rare combination in a world as unforgiving as theirs.

Felicia offered a sly grin as she stepped forward, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “So, you’re the one who’s been getting Silco all worked up,” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s about time we finally met.”

Y/N smiled in return, sensing that Felicia was the type of person who would both challenge and protect those she cared about. “I’m not sure I’ve worked him up exactly,” she replied, her tone light and playful. “But I’m happy to meet you both.”

Felicia chuckled, crossing her arms and giving Silco a sidelong glance. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard the way he talks about you, right?” she quipped, her voice full of amusement. “He’s been practically glowing every time your name comes up.”

Silco’s normally composed expression faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, though the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He shot a warning glance at Felicia, but there was an unmistakable fondness in the way he looked at her.

Vander, who had been watching the exchange with a bemused expression, couldn’t help but chuckle. He stepped forward, crossing his arms with an easy, knowing grin. “I’ll say this much, Silco,” he said, his voice gravelly yet affectionate, “It’s about time you brought her here. I was starting to think you’d be keeping her all to yourself forever.”

Silco shot Vander a sharp look, though there was no malice in his gaze. “Watch yourself, Vander,” he muttered, but the edge in his voice was more playful than serious.

Vander laughed softly, slapping Silco on the back in a friendly gesture. “Oh, I’m just teasing you. You’re not that hard to figure out. You’ve been talking about her for months, and now I see why. She’s got that same fire you’ve got, doesn’t she?”

Silco’s lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smile, though he quickly masked it with his usual stoic expression. "She's got more than fire," he replied quietly, his gaze momentarily drifting to Y/N. There was something unspoken between them, something that went beyond words.

Felicia, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, tilted her head with a knowing smile. “I think someone’s a little protective,” she teased, nudging Vander with her elbow.

Vander just chuckled, shaking his head. “Let him be. It’s about time Silco had someone who could keep him on his toes.”

Y/N felt an undeniable pull to these people, to the sense of purpose that seemed to bind them together. Despite their rough edges, they shared a bond forged by hardship and loyalty—a loyalty that ran deeper than mere survival. They were connected by more than just their struggles; they were a family in their own way, bound not by blood but by choice and shared experience.

Over the next year or so, their journeys became a routine—an unspoken exchange where each led the other deeper into their respective worlds.

Silco guided Y/N through the hidden veins of Zaun, places even the average denizen of the Undercity rarely saw. She walked with him through the smog-choked alleyways where chem-barons brokered power, through underground labs where shimmer pulsed in glass vials, where desperate souls sought strength in a substance that took just as much as it gave. He took her to the heart of the rebellion, to the people who whispered of revolution with fire in their eyes, who saw Silco not just as a leader but as the only man willing to tear down Piltover’s walls.

"This is the Zaun I fight for," he told her one evening as they stood on the edge of an old refinery, the glow of neon and industry painting the city below in hues of blue and green. "Not the one they tell horror stories about up there. The one that’s still breathing, still fighting for its right to exist."

Y/N listened, as she always did, but she also watched—watched the way people looked at him, how their loyalty to him ran deeper than fear. Silco wasn’t just speaking of revolution; he was living it.

And just as he showed her the depths of Zaun, she pulled him further into the reality of Piltover.

She took him beyond the grand halls of the Council, beyond the polished streets where wealth dictated worth. Instead, she led him to the workshops hidden between towering spires, where young inventors struggled against bureaucracy to create something truly meaningful. She took him to the clinics where medics worked tirelessly, treating those who had fallen through the cracks of their so-called perfect society. And she introduced him to people like Professor Aldric, those who sought not power, but understanding.

"Not all of them are your enemy," she told him one evening, standing outside a small orphanage on the outskirts of Piltover. Children ran through the courtyard, their laughter light against the crisp night air. "Some are just trying to make things better in their own way."

Silco watched the scene before him, his expression unreadable. "Good intentions don’t change the system," he muttered.

"No," Y/N admitted, turning to look at him. "But they change people. And people change the system."

Neither of them ever tried to sway the other completely. They didn’t need to. This was never about changing minds—it was about understanding them.

Some nights, Silco would return to Zaun, the weight of the Undercity settling back onto his shoulders, his mind caught between the truth he knew and the truths Y/N had shown him.

Some nights, Y/N would return to Piltover, looking out over the bridge that divided the cities, wondering how long they could balance on this fragile thread between two worlds.

But still, they kept walking forward. Together.

The grand chandelier above cast a warm golden glow over the dining hall, its soft light glinting off the polished silverware and the delicate China that held a meal fit for Piltover’s elite. The table stretched long, adorned with pristine white linens and perfectly arranged dishes, yet Y/N barely noticed any of it.

She sat in her usual seat, fork idly pushing food around her plate, her appetite non-existent. The room was quiet save for the faint clinking of cutlery against porcelain as her parents ate with the refined grace they had been bred into.

Her mother, ever the picture of elegance, dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a silk napkin before finally acknowledging her daughter's silence. "Y/N, dear, you’ve barely touched your food." Her voice was smooth, pleasant—calculated. "That’s not like you."

Y/N hesitated, fingers tightening around the stem of her glass. She could feel her father’s gaze shift toward her, sharp and expectant. He was not a man of wasted words; he observed, he judged, and only spoke when necessary.

She took a slow breath before speaking, her voice quieter than usual. "Have you ever been to Zaun?"

The question made her mother pause, knife hovering over her plate. Across from her, her father set down his wine glass with a soft clink, his expression unreadable.

Her mother let out a light, dismissive laugh, as if she had misheard. "Zaun? Darling, whatever has brought that place to mind?"

Y/N pushed her plate away slightly, leaning back in her chair. "I just don’t understand." She glanced between them, trying to gauge even the smallest shift in their expressions. "We have so much here. The wealth, the knowledge, the power to help. And yet, we do nothing for them."

Her father exhaled through his nose, resting his elbows on the table as he regarded her with mild scrutiny. "Helping Zaun is not our concern." His voice was even, deliberate. "Their struggles are of their own making."

"Are they?" Y/N challenged, her tone sharper now. "Or are they suffering because of the choices made up here? Because Piltover turns a blind eye while Zaun drowns in its own poison?"

Her mother frowned, tilting her head slightly as if assessing her daughter anew. "Y/N, dear, I don’t know what nonsense you’ve been reading, but Zaun has always been this way. It’s simply… how things are. You can’t save people who refuse to save themselves."

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. "That’s exactly the kind of thinking that keeps them suffering."

Her father leaned forward slightly, his gaze darkening. "Enough." The single word cut through the air, final and unyielding. "Piltover thrives because we do not concern ourselves with matters beneath us. Do not let foolish ideals cloud your judgment. You are a L/N—you would do well to remember what that means."

Y/N’s jaw clenched, her hands curling into fists beneath the table. A L/N. A name that meant power, prestige, influence. But in this moment, it felt like a chain.

Her mother sighed, reaching for her glass. "You’re still young, darling. In time, you’ll come to understand."

Y/N swallowed the bitter retort sitting on her tongue. She had already begun to understand—just not in the way they wanted.

She glanced down at her untouched meal, then slowly pushed her chair back, the legs scraping softly against the marble floor. "I think I’ve lost my appetite."

Without waiting for permission to leave, she rose and strode out of the dining room, her heart pounding against her ribs.

She had spent her whole life surrounded by Piltover’s gilded walls, listening to the justifications of people who had never stepped foot beyond them. But now, with every passing day, every stolen moment in the streets of Zaun, she realised something.

She no longer belonged here.

It wasn’t just the exchanges of knowledge, the slow unraveling of the worlds they had grown up in. It was the way Silco’s gaze lingered on Y/N just a little longer when she spoke with quiet conviction. The way her presence in The Last Drop no longer turned heads because she had become a fixture, a constant. It was in the stolen moments, the way their footsteps naturally fell in sync as they walked through Zaun’s winding alleys or Piltover’s golden-lit streets.

One evening, as they stood atop an old iron bridge overlooking the river that carved a jagged divide between their worlds, the tension that had been steadily building finally surfaced.

"You hesitate now," Silco noted, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Y/N turned to him, brow furrowing. "What?"

He took a step closer, his sharp gaze locked onto hers. "When we first started this, you spoke of Piltover as though it were a paradise. A shining beacon. But now…" His voice lowered, almost teasing, almost testing. "You’re starting to see that even heaven casts shadows, aren’t you?"

She exhaled, looking past him toward the flickering lights of the city above. "I see the cracks more clearly than I did before. But that doesn’t mean I’ve lost faith in it."

Silco hummed, considering her words. "And yet, you spend more time in hell than you do in heaven."

There was something unspoken in his words, in the way he watched her now—not as the girl from Piltover who had walked into The Last Drop out of curiosity, but as someone who had stepped willingly into the dark and lingered. Someone who wasn’t looking back.

Y/N turned back to him, her expression softer now. "Maybe because there’s something worth staying for."

Silco’s fingers twitched at his side, as if debating whether to reach for her, to close the space between them. He had spent his life calculating, planning, ensuring that every move he made was one of control. But this? This was unpredictable. Dangerous in a way he hadn’t accounted for.

"You're playing a dangerous game, angel," he murmured.

Y/N took a step closer, her voice steady. "So are you, devil."

For a moment, the air between them was thick with something neither was willing to name. Then, slowly, Silco’s lips curled into the ghost of a smirk.

"Then let’s see who falls first."

Zaun was not a city known for beauty—at least, not in the way Piltover was. It had no gleaming spires, no pristine avenues lined with gold and marble. It was a city of rust and shadow, where neon lights fought against the ever-present smog, and survival came before aesthetics.

And yet, as Silco led Y/N through the winding backstreets of the Undercity, past alleyways slick with rain and the ever-present hum of machinery, there was a glint in his eye. A rare thing—almost boyish in its quiet excitement, though he masked it well behind his usual composed demeanor.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked, stepping carefully over an uneven grate as she followed him deeper into Zaun.

"Patience," Silco murmured, glancing back at her with a smirk. "You’ll see soon enough."

The air thickened as they descended further, the din of the city above fading behind them. Finally, they emerged into an open cavern, illuminated not by neon, nor by the flickering lights of Zaun’s industry, but by something far more natural.

Bioluminescent plants clung to the cavern walls, their soft blue and violet glow casting an ethereal light over the underground lake stretching out before them. The water, dark and still, mirrored the glowing flora, creating the illusion of an endless sky beneath them.

Y/N inhaled sharply, her breath catching as she took it all in. "Silco…" she whispered, stepping forward. "This is…"

"Beautiful?" he finished, watching her carefully.

She turned to him, smiling. "I was going to say unexpected. But yes, it’s beautiful."

Silco exhaled, tilting his head slightly as he studied her reaction. "I thought you'd like it," he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. "Not many know of this place. It’s untouched. Hidden from the rest of the city."

"A secret, then?" Y/N mused, stepping closer to the water’s edge.

"A sanctuary," he corrected.

For a moment, they stood side by side in silence, watching the way the faint glow rippled across the water’s surface. Y/N had never seen Zaun in this light before—not harsh, not desperate, but calm. At peace.

"You surprise me, Silco," she murmured, turning to him.

His lips curled at the edges, his gaze flickering to hers. "Do I?"

"You act like you only see the world for what it is—cold, cruel, broken. But then you show me something like this, and I realise... you see more than that, don’t you?"

Silco’s expression shifted—something softer beneath the sharp exterior, something unspoken. His fingers twitched at his side, as if debating whether to reach for her, to close the space between them.

Y/N, emboldened by the quiet intimacy of the moment, took the risk for him. She reached out, fingers brushing over the back of his hand, testing the waters.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, after a beat, his fingers curled slightly, barely gripping hers in return.

"Perhaps," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

They stayed like that, standing on the edge of something neither of them dared to name, the quiet hum of the glowing cavern wrapping around them like a secret meant only for the two of them.

Her parents had begun to notice the changes, though. At first, it was subtle—small signs that she was slipping away from their expectations. The late nights, the unexplained absences, the way her mind seemed to wander when they spoke of her future. They hadn't said anything directly, but Y/N could feel their watchful eyes on her, a tension building in the house that made the air feel thick with unspoken questions.

One afternoon, as Y/N returned home from another clandestine meeting with Silco, she sensed something was wrong the moment she opened the door. The house felt different—tense, charged. She froze in the doorway, her heart skipping a beat. The quiet hum of the house was replaced by the muffled sound of footsteps, the rustle of movement coming from upstairs.

With a growing sense of dread, Y/N made her way to her room, but the moment she turned the corner, her stomach sank. There, in her sanctuary, a group of enforcers were rummaging through her belongings. Her parents stood silently by the door, their expressions unreadable.

Her mother’s eyes locked onto her with a cold, hard gaze that sent a chill down her spine. “Y/N,” her father’s voice was low, controlled, but there was a sharpness to it. “We need to talk.”

Y/N’s mind raced, panic rising in her chest as she glanced between her parents and the enforcers. Her pulse quickened, but she forced herself to stay calm. She knew this moment was inevitable, but she hadn’t imagined it would come like this.

The enforcers continued their methodical search, turning over clothes, drawers, and books with cold precision. One of them picked up her journal from the bedside table, flipping through the pages before pausing, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He studied her with an unsettling look, as if he had unearthed something that made her a threat.

"Found something," he muttered, holding the journal up for her parents to see.

Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest, the panic rising as she realised what had been uncovered. Her journal. The one place where her thoughts had been free, where her feelings for Silco had taken shape, messy and unfiltered. Every secret, every emotion she’d tried to bury, was now exposed.

Her mother’s gaze hardened as she stepped forward. "This is what you’ve been hiding from us? This is what you’ve really been up to?"

Y/N’s father spoke next, his voice thick with contempt. "We raised you better than this, Y/N. This—this nonsense—this is what you’ve turned to? Associating with someone from Zaun?!"

Y/N stood her ground, her jaw set, her heart racing. The sting of their disappointment was suffocating, but she refused to let it break her. She could feel their judgement burning through her, but still, she didn’t flinch.

"Silco," she said firmly, her voice unwavering, despite the chaos in her chest. "He’s been more to me than you ever were. He doesn’t try to fit me into some mould that doesn’t work. He sees me, truly sees me. He understands what it means to live, not just exist. He’s not pretending, not hiding behind fancy walls like you."

Her father’s face twisted in disbelief, his fist clenched tight at his side. "How dare you speak like this? After everything we’ve done for you?"

Y/N's words came rushing out, unrestrained. "Yes. Yes, they’re better. The people of Zaun—they fight for their survival every day. They’re not caged in some shiny world pretending that everything’s fine. Silco has fought for his people, for himself, and he’s shown me something I never had here: freedom. Real freedom."

Her mother’s face flushed with fury. Before Y/N could react, her mother’s hand was already in the air, a sharp slap echoing through the room. The sting of it rocked Y/N back, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.

"You will never set foot outside this estate again," her mother hissed, her voice low and venomous. "You will stay here, under our control, where you belong."

The words hit her like a blow to the chest, but Y/N refused to let them have the power to break her. She opened her mouth to argue, to fight for her right to make her own choices, but the enforcers were already leaving, filing out of the room one by one with an almost reverent silence. Finally, they closed the door behind them, and the quiet that followed was deafening.

Her father stepped toward her, his gaze cold, his voice low and commanding. He gestured toward the chaos in the room—the overturned drawers, the scattered pages of her journal, the remnants of her life that had been pried open, exposed.

Her mother, still seething with fury, walked past without a glance, slamming the door shut with finality. The sound of the lock clicking in place reverberated through Y/N’s chest like a death knell. Her parents’ footsteps receded down the hallway, leaving her alone in the wreckage of her own life.

Y/N stood there, her breath shallow, her body rigid with anger and defeat. The room, once her sanctuary, now felt suffocating, like a gilded cage closing in on her. The walls were closing in, trapping her inside. She had once thought of her home as a place of comfort, but now, it felt more like a prison—a beautiful cage that she could never escape, no matter how hard she tried.

She had been a bird with clipped wings, an angel in a cage, meant to be admired from afar but never allowed to fly. But she wasn’t meant to be caged. She wasn’t meant to stay locked away in this suffocating space.

Days blurred into each other, and the silence in the estate had become unbearable. Y/N barely noticed the passage of time, each moment dragging by as if the weight of her own thoughts was enough to slow everything around her. Her parents' words replayed over and over in her mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. The slap from her mother still stung, a physical reminder of how far they had pushed her away, and the lock on her door felt like a cage closing in tighter with every passing second.

She spent her days sitting in her room, gazing blankly at the walls, the isolation gnawing at her. The lack of Silco’s presence—his sharp wit, the way his eyes had a way of making her feel seen in a way no one else had—left a void that she couldn’t ignore. The Undercity, with its dirt and grit, had become her refuge, a place where she felt alive. Now, it seemed a world away, and the cage her parents had built around her felt more suffocating than ever.

Meanwhile, Silco noticed her absence, though at first he didn’t think much of it. Maybe she was busy, distracted, or lost in her own thoughts. But as the days stretched into a painful silence, he couldn’t shake the gnawing sense that something was terribly wrong. He could feel it deep in his gut, a quiet but insistent pull telling him that Y/N needed him, that something had shifted.

He knew where she lived, of course. She had shown him the secret path that led to her window, and he had memorised every detail—the crooked tree that grew right in front of it, the way the vines had crept up the wall like nature itself was trying to break into the confines of her world. And so, with nothing but concern and urgency pushing him forward, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

The evening was quiet, the air cool as he approached the estate. The mansion’s grandeur seemed a world apart from the raw streets of Zaun, and it unsettled him. He preferred the chaos of his city, where nothing was hidden behind walls or wealth. His footsteps were light as he made his way to the tree that rested just beneath her window, its gnarled branches stretching up like a natural ladder. Silco didn't hesitate, his hands finding their place on the rough bark as he began to climb, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement.

The tree groaned under his weight, but it held steady as he scaled higher, his mind focused on only one thing: getting to Y/N. He reached the window, pulling himself up just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him stopped him cold.

Y/N sat on her bed, her shoulders slumped, her body curled inward as if trying to shield herself from the world. She was staring blankly at the floor, her face drawn and empty of its usual fire. The vibrancy that had once filled her eyes seemed gone, replaced by an unbearable stillness. It broke something in him to see her like this—like a bird whose wings had been clipped, trapped in a cage of her own making.

He couldn’t stand it.

Silco, never one to wait for the world to change on its own, looked around and saw the small acorns scattered around the ground beneath the tree. With a slight smirk, he picked one up and tossed it gently at the window, watching it tap lightly against the glass. He waited a moment, then threw another, and another, until he had a rhythm going—small, insistent taps that broke the silence in her room.

Y/N’s head jerked up, her eyes scanning the window as she tried to figure out where the noise was coming from. The familiar sound of the acorns hitting the glass was enough to make her heart skip a beat. Her eyes widened as she saw him—Silco, perched in the tree outside her window, his face framed by the night.

For a moment, she simply stared at him, unable to believe what she was seeing. The sight of him—so close, yet so far—pulled her out of the haze she had been in. But it wasn’t just his presence that shook her; it was the understanding in his eyes, the way he seemed to see right through the walls she had built around herself.

"Angel," he called softly, his voice carrying in the quiet of the evening.

Her throat tightened, her breath catching in her chest. She wanted to say something, anything, but words seemed so small against the enormity of everything she had been feeling. Instead, she just took a step toward the window, her eyes never leaving his.

The vulnerability in his gaze pierced through her, and she could sense the weight of something unspoken between them. Silco’s presence had always been a balm for her turmoil, but now, in this moment, she saw the depth of his concern. He was afraid.

"Silco," she whispered, her voice trembling as she finally found the words. "I... I’m sorry for not coming back to you. My parents—they locked me up here."

He hesitated, his gaze softening with concern, before responding in a voice raw with emotion, "I was afraid you might’ve gone, that maybe I pushed you too far. I thought... I thought I had lost you."

The confession hit her like a wave. Silco—unpredictable, dangerous, and always in control—was afraid? She hadn’t realised how deeply he felt her absence until that moment.

Shaking her head slowly, she took a breath to steady herself. "You never could, Silco. You could never push me away. I never wanted to leave you, not really." Her eyes met his, her voice softening with the weight of everything unsaid. "I just... didn’t know how to be anything other than what they wanted me to be."

A knowing, almost wistful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It was as if he had heard her unspoken words long before she said them, as if he’d been waiting for this moment. "Then come with me, Y/N," he said, his voice low but filled with an unmistakable promise. "Leave all of this behind. With me, you’ll never be caged again. No more pretending. No more hiding."

Y/N stared at him, her heart racing in her chest as his words sank in. She felt the weight of what he was offering—a chance to truly be herself, to live freely, without the expectations of others pressing down on her. It was everything she had ever wanted, and yet, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

But in that moment, the suffocating walls of her parents’ estate, the years of living a life that wasn’t hers, seemed to melt away. For the first time in a long while, Y/N felt something she hadn’t thought possible—hope. She finally saw the possibility of freedom, not just in the world around her, but in herself.

And it was all standing there, beneath the tree, waiting for her.

Just then, the sound came—the unmistakable thud of rapid footsteps, quick and determined. Her parents. They were coming. And they wouldn’t be pleased to find her at the window, talking to the very person they despised.

Her heart pounded in her chest as her mind raced. Without thinking, Y/N rushed to the door and shoved her dresser in front of it, the heavy wood scraping across the floor in a loud protest. It wasn’t much, but it would buy her precious moments.

The sound of her parents’ muffled voices echoed from the other side. Her father’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and biting. "Y/N! Open this door, now!" he bellowed, his anger unmistakable. "You will not defy us, not after everything we’ve done for you!"

Her mother’s voice, cold and venomous, followed swiftly. "You’re not leaving, not now, not ever. You’re ours, Y/N. You belong here, with us. Open the door!"

Y/N’s teeth clenched, her hands trembling as she gripped the window frame. The words stung, but she couldn’t let them control her anymore. They wouldn’t stop until they had her—until they dragged her back into the life they’d decided for her. She had to leave. She had to fly. And there was only one person offering her that chance.

Her eyes flicked back to Silco, still there, calm and unwavering, his hand outstretched toward her. The lifeline she had been waiting for.

"They’re going to break through," she said breathlessly, panic rising in her chest. "They’ll send the enforcers—they’ll make me stay."

Silco’s gaze softened, but there was no fear in his eyes. Only certainty, a quiet power that grounded her. "Then we don’t have much time. Y/N," he said, his voice low and steady, "you don’t need to run. You need to fly."

He extended his hand further, his palm open, waiting for her to take it. "I will catch you. I promise."

Y/N hesitated. Her eyes darted to the drop below her—the dizzying height that seemed to stretch forever. Her stomach lurched. Her mind screamed in fear. Was this really freedom? Or was it just another risk? Another way to fall, to lose herself completely?

Silco’s steady gaze held hers, his expression softening as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. "This is your moment, Y/N. I’ll catch you. I’ll be there."

The sound of her parents’ voices grew louder. Their fury surged with every shout, pounding against the door, their fists banging against the wood. The enforcers were close now, footsteps echoing down the hall. The urgency in their movements was unmistakable—her time was running out.

Y/N’s breath came faster, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with the growing panic. But she could feel it now—the tension building, the weight of her decision. She was standing at the edge of everything. With one last deep breath, she looked at Silco. His hand, steady and unflinching, was still there, a lifeline in the chaos.

And then, she stepped forward.

The window opened wider, the cool night air rushing in like a flood of freedom. For the first time in days, a spark of hope flickered in her chest. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t.

Just as she stepped off the ledge, the sound of the door crashing open rang out behind her. The enforcers had arrived, shoving the dresser aside with a forceful bang. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she fell, the world spinning in a blur of motion. The weightlessness of the fall was dizzying, her pulse racing with terror.

And then, she felt it.

Silco’s strong hand grasped hers, pulling her out of the air, grounding her in the chaos of the moment. She gasped, her breath sharp as she looked up at him, their faces inches apart. His grip was firm, unwavering, like the promise he had made. His presence was everything in that moment—secure, solid, and real.

"You did it," he whispered, his voice low, full of admiration, but there was something deeper there too—something like relief. "You flew."

Y/N clung to him, her chest heaving with the rawness of the moment. For the first time in a long while, she felt alive—truly alive. She wasn’t a bird in a cage anymore. She wasn’t trapped. She was free.

They ran, their footsteps heavy against the earth as they dashed through the darkened woods. The trees blurred by them in a chaotic dance, the shadows whispering and shifting with every step they took. Y/N’s breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, her pulse hammering in her ears, but she didn’t dare stop. She couldn’t. Not now. Not when she had finally taken the first step toward freedom.

Behind them, the enforcers were closing in, their footsteps growing louder, crashing through the underbrush with relentless force. The thundering of their pursuit mixed with the frantic rhythm of her heart. Her parents’ voices could still be heard, distant but full of fury, calling her name, demanding her return. But Y/N couldn’t hear them anymore. Not truly.

Silco’s pace never faltered, his presence a steadying force beside her, his eyes never leaving the path ahead. His hand was a lifeline that anchored her, pulling her forward. They pushed harder, faster, as though the ground itself was trying to hold them back. But with every step, they grew closer to something else—something far more dangerous, but far more alive.

They reached the edge of the woods, the trees thinning out to reveal a jagged cliff before them. The drop was dizzying, the rocks below like jagged teeth waiting to tear through the earth. Y/N stood at the edge for a moment, breathless, her gaze fixed on the sheer drop, the abyss below calling to her in a way she could not explain.

It felt like a choice.

A flash of light shone behind them. The enforcers had reached the clearing. Their heavy boots pounded on the ground, and in their wake, the familiar figures of her parents emerged, silhouettes carved against the moonlight. Her mother’s eyes blazed with fury, her father’s face a mask of cold, unyielding anger. They were almost there.

For a moment, Y/N’s heart fluttered with doubt. The abyss before her—so terrifying, so unknown—stood in stark contrast to the life she had known. A life of comfort, of certainty, of heaven. She could hear the echo of her mother’s voice, sharp and demanding, You belong here, with us. The temptation of that world—the promise of peace, of staying safe in the golden cage of her family’s protection—was so close.

But then, Silco’s eyes found hers, steady and unwavering.

There was no more hesitation in his gaze, no more fear. His expression was calm, almost serene, as if he, too, knew the weight of the choice that lay between them. His voice was low, but it carried the weight of their shared moment. "Y/N," he said softly, "This is it, isn't it? The choice between what we know and what we can be."

Y/N looked down at the chasm before her. A dizzying drop into the unknown. A fall into hell. But it wasn’t just a fall, was it? It was the leap she had been waiting for—the moment she would leave her past behind, let go of the chains that had bound her. It wasn’t just a choice between two places. It was a choice between two lives. The life of comfort, of heaven, or the life of risk, of freedom, of him.

She turned her gaze back to Silco. His eyes were dark, filled with a fierce, raw kind of longing, as though he, too, knew that this moment would define them. They shared a silent understanding—a bond forged in the chaos they had already endured together. A bond that would only grow stronger in the fires of whatever was to come.

Y/N’s lips curled into a soft smile, her voice a whisper carried on the wind. "I’ve lived in heaven all my life," she murmured, "But heaven’s never felt like home."

She took a step closer to him, the ground beneath her feet trembling with the gravity of her words. Her heart steadied, the fear of the unknown fading with every beat.

“And Silco,” she said, her voice filled with quiet defiance, “If I must fall from heaven, then I’ll fall for you. I’ll fall for you, any day. I’ll fall for you, even if it means the flames of hell will scorch me.”

A dark, knowing smile curved at the corner of Silco’s lips. His grip on her hand tightened, a silent promise between them. "Then come with me, Y/N. Hell’s not a place—it’s a chance."

Her parents’ voices shouted again, the anger and desperation mounting in their words. "Y/N! You don’t belong with him! Come back!"

Y/N looked at them, her expression distant, as if hearing their voices from a faraway world. She felt their calls, but they seemed like a whisper now, fading into the wind. She wasn’t tethered to their world anymore. She was free. And freedom, though terrifying, was a gift she wasn’t about to let slip away.

Her heart raced with anticipation, her pulse quickening as she took a final glance at the abyss below them. It called to her—an open invitation to a life undefined, a chance at something new. Something with Silco.

"I’ll fall for you, Silco. Every time," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "Because I love you…"

Silco’s eyes softened, a rare vulnerability flickering in the depths of his gaze. He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking until there was nothing left but the shared weight of the moment. He cupped her face gently in his hands, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw, as if memorising every inch of her.

“And I love you too, my angel," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Before either of them could say another word, the world seemed to stop. Time slowed, the rushing wind around them faded, leaving only the sound of their hearts, synchronised, beating together. Silco closed the space between them, and in that single, breathless moment, their lips met.

The kiss was desperate, as though they were trying to capture the very essence of each other in that fleeting instant. It was raw, hungry, and full of promise—a promise that even the flames of hell wouldn’t be enough to break. Their love, their connection, was something neither of them could deny any longer.

As they pulled away, their foreheads pressed together, breathing heavily, Y/N felt a rush of clarity flood through her. This was it. This was their moment. The leap wasn’t just about the fall—it was about choosing each other, no matter what.

With a final, shared glance, they held tightly to one another. Silco’s hand found hers once more, and as they both looked out into the abyss below them, there was no fear. Only trust. Only certainty.

"Together," Silco whispered.

"Together," Y/N echoed softly.

And in that moment, as they took the leap, Y/N realised she had chosen. She had chosen him, and she had chosen to fall—because falling with Silco felt more like flying than anything she had ever known.

The world around them was a blur of water and dark stone. The moment they hit the water, everything had become a chaotic swirl of cold, the pressure of the fall pressing down on them as they sank deeper, then surged back to the surface. Gasping for air, Y/N found herself clutching Silco, her fingers tangled in the soaked fabric of his clothes, her heart still racing from the sheer intensity of the jump.

She had never been more alive.

They managed to swim towards the edge of the cave, pulling themselves out of the water, their bodies shivering from the cold, their clothes clinging heavily to them. But none of that mattered. They were here. Together. Safe. For the moment.

The cave around them was breathtaking, bathed in soft, eerie light from the cracks in the stone where faint, bioluminescent moss grew, casting an ethereal glow across the jagged walls. The air was damp, filled with the scent of earth and salt, but it felt like a sanctuary. Like they had finally found their place.

Silco, drenched but unharmed, turned to Y/N, his face unreadable in the dim light. He reached out and gently brushed a lock of wet hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"You’re here," he said, his voice low and full of wonder, though it was hard to tell if it was for her or for the sanctuary they had discovered. Either way, it didn't matter. She was here. And so was he.

Y/N’s lips curved into a tired, yet satisfied smile, her own fingers tracing the wet line of his jaw as she met his gaze. “I’m here,” she said softly. “With you. For you."

She was shivering, not just from the cold but from the magnitude of the choice they had just made. The fall wasn’t just physical; it had been a leap into something far more dangerous. But it was one she had willingly made. A choice to leave everything behind for him, to trust him in a way she had never trusted anyone before.

Silco’s expression softened, and for the first time since they’d met, there was a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. He stepped closer, his damp body brushing against hers, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the warmth of his chest.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice almost a vow, his arms tight around her as though he couldn’t bear to let go. “You won’t regret this.”

Y/N closed her eyes, leaning into him, the weight of their decisions settling over her like a warm, steadying presence. “I know,” she whispered. “I don’t regret it. Not for a second."

The sound of water dripping echoed around them, but in that moment, nothing else mattered. The storm, the enforcers, her family—they were all a distant memory, swallowed by the vastness of this cave, this sanctuary Silco had promised her.

She wasn’t just falling with him. She was with him—in every sense of the word. And she knew, deep in her heart, that whatever came next, they would face it together.

#Arcane #Arcane Fandom #Arcane fluff #Arcane angst #Reader Insert #silco x you #silco x reader #silco x y/n

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