#looking through my notes to compile my data

[hero-of-the-wolf]

..... I don't think I want to remember the context for this

[pedgito]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | Javier Pena x reader

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | this is my own entry for the summer lovin' challenge, somehow torturing myself further by writing a fic amongst all my other wips and helping organize this challenge. there's sweaty javi p and office sex, that's all you need to know.

content warning | heavy smut, teasing upon teasing upon teasing, lots of mentions of heat/sweat, perfect use of ice in a situation like this, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, public-ish sex

word count — 5k

You curse quietly over your second paper cut of the day, nursing your pointer finger between your lips and silently reprimanding yourself for agreeing to help Steve—he was good at begging, you could give him that, and a hell of a sweet talker when he wanted to be. He always wore you down, a promise of coffee every day for a week on him, or lunch the following day, anything to sweeten the deal. This time it was neither.

“I rescheduled twice already,” He’s pointed out the reasons on his fingers, extending them out as he numbers them and using his finger to add emphasis as he pressed down on them as he went, “we finally have someone to watch Olivia for us this evening, and you know, you won’t even be alone—Pena’s staying late.”

He wiggled his three fingers like it was the best deal you’ve ever been offered, a smile growing on his face as he attempted to pass over the file that you took with reluctance, blowing out a puff of air and clutching it to your chest, arms crossed over the manila folder as you glance at your dainty watch—four in the afternoon. Not bad. Not great, either. You’ve stayed later—given your commute is only about five minutes. You tended to pick up the slack, for everyone, but mostly those boys. You weren’t sure how it ended up this way, but even Carillo acknowledged it. 

You did grunt work, small and miniscule things in the lives of two DEA agents who were out in the field hunting a notorious cartel leader every day—but you, you were dealing with papercuts and carpal tunnel, it wasn’t nearly as comparable.

And Javier Pena made sure to remind you every chance he had.

You pluck at the group of files labeled La Quica and El Limon, a hefty collection of data that has been compiled for the past several months and felt never ending—you were nearing the point of understanding every piece of information in this room back to front, knowing far too much about the cartel than you originally intended. It was terrifying; even seeing the look on either of the men’s faces when they returned back from a hard day of busts and undercover work.

And, maybe Javier just figured you didn’t care or wouldn’t be able to comprehend half of what was stored away in these files—but he sure wasn’t quiet about it.

It’s been around an hour now, tearing through the unorganized mess that the file room had become.

Mumbling the names under your breath as you drag your finger over the sticky note and kneeling down until your practically on all fours, digging through a box on the floor with your head tucked and oblivious to Javier as he rounds the corner to the secluded room, heavy footsteps falling on deaf ears, too entranced in the task to notice him.

He clears his throat with distinction and your head snaps up, looking clearly disturbed and annoyed—Javier offers a superficial smile and points a finger at the pile on the floor, his shoulder leaned against one of the tall shelves holding boxes upon boxes of crucial information.

Your eyebrows raise in expectation, head shaking slightly at him as you urge him to speak and get on with whatever comment he was dying to make as he continued to stare down, licking his lips briefly before they finally part and—

“Those the files we’ve been asking for?”

That Steve has been asking for—Not Javier, never Javier. He’s too macho and mighty for paperwork and sitting at a desk all day.

“It is part of them,” You say with emphasis, “I still have an entire section to go through. Steve asked me to pull everything we have on those two.”

“Well, everyone’s leaving—and I know where most of the shit is. I got it, you can head out.”

You seethe, jaw clenched and your eyebrow furrows as you stand, a pile of strewn papers in your arms.

“You know, instead of going through Steve to have me fetch the stuff you need—I don’t know, you could just man up and ask me directly.”

He has no idea what you’re talking about.

Except, he does.

He’s shoved off work to Steve who was enough of a pushover for his friend and partner, to pick it up when he had time, but this time it had landed on a busy day, a busy weekend, there just wasn’t enough time for him to handle it. 

“La Quica, El Limon—Carillo was talking to you about them this morning. What’s got you so tied up that you couldn’t handle it yourself?” You ask accusatory, back turned to him as you walk toward the table in the center of the room.

“We’ve got leads to check out, muñequita.” 

Out of your wheelhouse. Yeah��Okay, that explains it.

You roll your eyes at the nickname and drop the stack with a distinct thunk before moving past him, narrowly avoiding his broad shoulders as you walk past him, through the half-open door as you grab for one of the styrofoam cups on the water dispenser before spooning the ice into it and filling it with water, sipping with a distinct look of disdain as you eye Javier up and down, seeing that he’s followed you over, half in the doorway and half out.

“If you’re going to stand there the least you could do is help me,” You tell him, “that way we can both get out of here faster and not have to spend any more time together than we need to.”

“It’ll be faster if I do it myself,” He tells you, a metaphorical shoo-ing away as he nods toward the stairwell at the end of the hall, “I know this room like the back of my hand.”

“Have you been in here lately? It’s a mess. No one ever puts anything back in the right spot.” 

Javier’s got his signature pout on, looking downtrodden and pathetic behind his thick mustache perched on his upper lip, the constant look of being unimpressed by everything.

“I’m not leaving, Javier. You’re welcome to help, stay late, whatever—but I’ve been in this room, in this heat for an hour already and you’re not about to swoop in and snatch the credit for something you couldn’t be bothered doing yourself in the first place, alright?”

Javier looks surprised at that, not as much by the bite in your tone but the lack of snide comment, not calling him an asshole or a prick and storming off. Again, you brush past him with your drink in hand and take your seat, feeling the thin layer of sweat covering your body—it wasn’t that unbearable, but another hour and you would be a hell of a lot more crankier.

“Fine—” You respond, eyes tracking elsewhere as he moves form his place against the open door, only catching the lingering shadow of the door as it closed until it was far too late, “fuck, Javi! The—”

A loud click and Javier’s reaction time, given his ability to pull out a gun and have it propped at the ready in half a second, is far too slow. He turns, seeing the now closed door and turns back to you.

“Door,” You say, voice falling flat.

Javier backtracks and heads for the door, hoping and praying this was one of the days it wouldn’t lock—it was a tricky thing. Only working half of the time. Luckily, any other time it was during the day, surrounded by people who could help. But, now—it’s the two of you and no one else.

If you were pissed at Javier before, you were fuming now.

He jiggles the doorknob. Nothing. Fist pounding against the door. Nothing.

A quick shout out to anyone. Anything. Hoping someone would still be near.

Nothing. Not a sound.

“We’re stuck,” You sneer at him, “—sit down or that jiggling is going to drive me insane.”

He kicks the door for good measure, hoping by some miracle it might actually pop open.

You huff out an exhausted laugh under your breath and spread your hands out over the files, sorting out the important information and pictures from the notes and extra files that weren’t really needed. Javier approaches slowly and you take a sip of the water, thankful that you were at least able to reward yourself with that before you ended up in this mess.

Javier takes a look at his own watch and clicked his tongue before resigning to the fact that things weren’t going to go his way, dancing his fingers along the edge of the table as he took a seat, fingertips pressed into the surface as he settled, watching you casually under the flickering overhead light.

A few minutes slowly turn into several, quiet aside from the occasional shuffling of paper or sips of your water and you find that when no one else is around, Javier isn’t a total asshole. There’s no harsh quip or snide comment being lobbed your way but you can also tell that he’s just as frustrated as you, knowing that he needed to sift through this intel too.

But, the heat was sweltering—so distracting and despite the setting sun outside, had you reaching for a few buttons on your blouse as you leaned back, sighing as you picked up an empty file folder and fanned yourself in earnest, exposing your neck as you hung your head back.

You don’t hear Javier, but you feel him. His eyes on you as you lift your head back up.

Bewilderment. Annoyance. You can’t place it in the moment, he doesn’t even speak. But, you find yourself responding anyway.

“What? It’s hot.”

Javier throws a casual hand up in defense but his eyes follow your hand as they descend into your styrofoam cup, water long gone but the ice standing strong. You take a piece and cup it in your palm before rubbing it over your neck, instantly sighing at the crisp cold touch of it against your skin and aptly ignoring how it drips down the valley of your breasts, looking up to catch Javier at just the right time, his eyes looked on your movements and more pointedly—your chest.

“Here, try it,” You tell him, noticing the sheen of sweat on his neck, “it helps.”

He plucks a cigarette out of his half-empty pack and places it between his lips.

“I’m good.”

“Suit yourself, “ You shrug, but quickly lean forward to pluck the cigarette from his mouth and place it down on the table, “–hey, can you not?”

Javier looks at you in disbelief, snatching the cigarette off the table and tucking it away anyways.

“You smoke in this place all day, you can at least wait until we’re out of here.”

“Do you ever loosen up?” Javier pokes at you daringly, “I mean, what does it really take for you to pull that skirt out of your ass?”

“Not you,” You reply sharply, a smile spreading across your face, “but, putting away the cigarette is a start.”

Javier leans back in the chair with a dignified sigh, scratching at his forehead in frustration at the lack of progress and the fact that he literally has no way out of here.

“You know, he’s been off the grid for three weeks,” You speak out loud, knowing that Javier is well aware, “is there really anything in here that is going to help? Or is it just that all of the leads are dead?”

His demeanor breaks slightly, a shuffle in his shoulders as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Both—maybe. This shit is probably pointless.”

“And that’s why you wanted me to take care of it,” You respond conclusively, “but you’re impatient—you don’t have to argue with me, I know you are.”

“Really, muñequita, you think you know me so well?” Javier asks testingly, tongue swiping over his bottom lip, “What else do you know about me?”

“That you like your ego boosted,” You retort, “and I’m not about to do that. So—”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Javier says with a smirk, eyes glinting with a faint, creeping darkness.

“Shut up,” You say in a clipped town before looking around curiously, “and what are we supposed to do now? Sleep here? I really can’t believe you fucking locked us in.”

“No, no—” Javier's finger wags in a motion that makes you want to bite them off, jaw clenching forcefully, “if you hadn’t wasted so much time then maybe we could have flagged down someone.”

“Okay, but you still let that door close.”

Once again, both arms crossed over your chest, a staredown is initiated. 

It wasn’t the first, it wasn’t the last, but you wanted to ruin him.

Knock him down a beg—hell, kick him off the pedestal and wipe the goddamn floor with him.

That stupid smirk, the boiling tone of cockiness wrapped in self-righteousness.

“Don’t think too hard, cariño.”

You huff out a half-impressed laugh and organize the files after a moment, stacking them to the side and reaching into your cup for another piece of your melting ice, repeating the same motion as earlier as you slide the ice between your breasts, but with the immense amount of eye contact you didn’t give Javier the first time.

Stubborn girl. He knew that much about you.

Javier doesn’t break immediately, but the small flex in his jaw, the slightest of cracks in his hard exterior.

Attack. Attack. Attack.

You wipe your arm against your sleeve, subconsciously pressing your breasts together in the process and Javier looks like he might keel over, eyes flicking up to meet your gaze now—he’s been caught. Gazing. Admiring. Seering to his memory for a later time.

You’re not really sure but you’re not going to let him off easy either.

“Now, Pena—Don’t think too hard.” You tell him in a sickly sweet tone, “It’s just a pair of tits.”

I don’t bite—you want to add. But, you don’t.

Because even if you found Javier attractive…there was just no way. 

No. Not possible.

“What is it?” Javier asks curiously, seemingly snapped out of his stupor, and meeting your gaze like he hadn’t just been staring directly at your breasts for far too long. “About me, I mean?”

You raise an eyebrow, finger circling the styrofoam cup as you center on the table.

“What?” You ask with a soft laugh of disbelief. “It’s—it isn’t your looks, Javier. It’s all of you. You undermine me, you treat me like a fucking lap dog. I might be a bitch but—I am not your bitch.”

He wasn’t expecting that intense of a response, it felt even more eerie as your tone continued on steadily. He considers interrupting but you continue, holding a finger up to stop him.

“You know—I transferred here to help with the assignment, collect the intel and take down Pablo Escobar just like you, but for some reason, you seem to think I’m just a personal assistant. Or one of the few receptionists who all want to throw themselves at you.”

“There something wrong with that?”

You roll your eyes in silence, but the gesture is loud.

“Did I say there was?” You counter, “I think the problem for you is that it isn’t me. That someone might actually find you repulsive, right?”

Javier only looks slightly dumb-founded, following your movements as you stand and fetch the stack of files, returning them to their make-shift home for the moment, buried away on a shelf that could be reorganized later—he turns in his chair, glaring right back at you when you turn on your heels. 

“Your legs don’t work?” You ask him, nodding toward thfew smaller stacks of files scattered about the table, “If you want to get the work done so bad, clean up—or do you want me to—”

“I. Got it.” Javier responds stiffly, standing on his own two feet. He scoops up the remaining files and puts them away opposite of the shelf you had, resting a palm on an empty spot as you lean back to pick up a stray piece of paper. “But, don’t act like I don’t see you kissing Carillo’s—”

You stand and shove the paper into his chest, “Finish that sentence and you will regret it, Javier.”

“It’s alright. No shame in your game and all that.”

Fuck this.

You reach for the cup of melted ice, splashing it promptly in Javier’s face before crushing the cup in your hand out of frustration, a moment of frozen realization coming to you.

Had you actually just done that?

Javier blinks, looking down at his soaked front before promptly removing his jacket in haste watching as you slowly back away, slightly disturbed by his calmness until he’s rearing on you.

Slowly—oh, so fucking slow. 

Your chest rises in slow, deep breaths and is nearly hanging off your shoulders by now, riddled with red, hot rage.

“Tell me I don’t make you even a little bit nervous, muñequita.” 

Is this a challenge? Is this what he’s worried about?

“You don’t.”

Your response is quick, but you find yourself pressed against a file cabinet and a few inches of free space before he’s right there—so close you can feel the heat of his body, your heart races slightly.

Okay, maybe just…a little.

“Again,” Javier beckons, a sneer to his tone as he crowds you in—“Look at me and say it.”

And for the love of god, the words never come.

“You let me flirt with you because you like it. Never correct me when I give you those little nicknames—look at you, you can’t even deny it.”

A half-truth. You didn’t mind it, but it wasn’t some sort of sustenance keeping you alive. Besides, it didn’t make up for half of the times he’s belittled you in front of your shared boss.

The heat is suffocating now and Javier’s eyes follow the trail of sweat down your neck, over your breasts, watching your fingers twitch at your side because—

Why do you feel the need to touch him so badly now?

To receive that touch in return and tenfold. 

“¿Qué pasa, pobrecita?” 

His fingers curl around the edge of the file cabinet behind you, barricading you between the wall and him and if you decided to show any signs of discomfort you knew Javier would back off in a heartbeat—you didn’t even need to say anything.

“Is that what it took?” You ask, voice soft in the small gap he’s created, eyes softening slightly as he hears you speak, “Being locked in here with me, nothing else to do—that’s what it takes for you to see me as anything other than some lowly little assistant to you?”

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” Javier says fondly, holding back a chuckle in his throat before his free hand is reaching for your neck and forcing your chin up and back, his thumb rubbing into the soft spot where your jaw twitches under his touch, swallowing hard.

“I thought you hated me.”

“I can say the same for you,” Javier responds, tilting his head slightly.

You’re so hot under his touch, skin clammy and wet from the ice and broken AC.

“I’m not saying I don’t.”

Javier presses his body against you slowly, your hands reaching for his shirt instinctively, curling into the fabric and feeling it stick to his skin, feel the weight of his chest against yours, and the very obvious strain of his slacks against your thin pencil skirt.

“And I never said I did,” Javier counters, “doesn’t change the fact that you get under my skin, querida.”

Javier leans in slow, that heavy eye contact never breaking until he’s there—nose pressed against your own and you sigh, breathing into his mouth as your eyes fall closed and he knows.

His lips are soft, careful. It feels like a test.

Your resolve melts in an instant, damning Javier for whatever spell he’s placed on you but you want more, hands skirting slowly up his front until they’re molding around his neck, kissing back with a similar eagerness, still laced in trepidation.

Things ramp up quickly, Javier’s fingers finding the edge of your shirt where it’s tucked into your skirt, pulling it free and squeezing at your sides, forcing your ass down against his knee from where it's tucked between your legs, somehow finding its way there in the chaos.

“Jav—Javier,” You breathe, pulling away, “maybe—maybe this isn’t the best place…”

Your eyes trail toward the camera tucked away in the corner of the room, knowing that it had to have some pretty damning evidence by this point—the list was long and you tried not to think about it for too long before Javier’s voice is pulling you back.

“That thing hasn’t worked in weeks,” He reassures and the flickering light above dims slightly, almost on cue, “are you scared of getting caught?”

You shake your head slowly and his smile grows, lips pressed against your own as he speaks and his hands tight at your hips, pressing your core right at the center of his thigh and pushing your skirt up until it’s bunched over your ass. You throb at the pressure, breathing out shakily.

“Then let go, muñequita,” He coos.

You hum, breath catching as he pushes his thigh up, your hips instinctively rocking against the pressure and if the heat weren’t already overwhelming, you would’ve passed out from that alone.

“It’s cute,” His hands aid your movement, a slow but steady rock of your hips as you furrow your brow at his voice, “—yeah that, you do that little thing with your brow whenever I talk to you.”

“Because I can’t s—stand you,” You voice falters, feeling him pick up the pace slightly to match your sudden eagerness, months without a proper sexual partner outside of yourself and you couldn’t help but be just a little bit more open to the idea of fucking someone who wasn’t your first option, or second—not even your last. Javier was nowhere on your list, actually. 

But, here he was. Offering himself over to you.

Besides, you had an entire night stuck alone with him—it wasn’t the worst way to entertain yourselves.

“Doesn’t seem that way right now,” Javier counters, his ego shining through.

“Stop. Talking.” You plead, hands pulling at the seam of buttons on his shirt, pulling at it roughly in two quick, forceful movements until it splits open, mangling some of the buttons in the process but if upsets him, he doesn’t say a word.

Instead, he rips it away just as quick, pulling his leg away to descend to his knees, pushing your blouse up your chest until he can reach bare skin, mouthing at the soft skin of your stomach and—christ, it’s distracting. He yanks at the short zipper on your skirt, making a small noise of happy acknowledgement when he’s able to get it undone and pull your skirt down the rest of the way, breath hot over your underwear as he stares up at you, fingers curled around the thread at your hips.

You nod silently and he presses his mouth against your center, teasing kisses along your inner thighs that slowly turn into playful bites until you’re nearly squirming, begging with a softer version of his name that you never tried to let him catch you using.

“Javi, please.”

He pulls your panties down your legs, over your heels and to the floor with little care, too focused on settling your leg over his shoulder before a hand is curling over the top of your thigh, fingertips digging in as he licks a broad stripe through the center of your pussy, his other hand balled into the fabric of your shirt and you need less—less clothing, less restriction.

You fumble with your buttons, head falling back against the metal of the filing cabinet with a sigh as the tip of his tongue slides over your clit and down, a motion he repeats several times in your poor attempts to undress and chuckles against you when you curse, finally getting your top unbuttoned and letting it sag at your shoulders, your fingers buried in his hair as he groans, lapping at you eagerly as his hand rises blindly until he can squeeze at your breast.

You moan loudly, instinctively covering your mouth at the sound as Javier pulls back in subtle shock himself, surprised that you allowed yourself to be so vocal about how he was affecting you.

“Not a fucking word, Javi.” You berate him, pushing a finger into his forehead gently which he takes in stride, laughing quietly.

“No one is here.” He reminds you, “Listen.”

And you do, Javier slowly rising to his feet and pressing his lips against the side of your neck, working at his belt in time, shucking his pants open just enough for you to slip your hand into his boxers, gripping his cock tight in your hand—still, absolute silence.

“Let me fuck you,” Javier begs—begs with fervor, his breath hot against your ear, “please?”

You nod jerkily, feeling him settle his slacks just low enough that they aren’t a nuisance and pulling the thigh that was resting over his shoulder around his hip, his fingers digging into your ass as you tug at him testingly, enjoying the look on his face when you squeeze a little harder than he’s expecting, enjoying the heavy weight of him in your hand.

“Oh, I can fuck that hate right out, querida ” Javier admonishes, “don’t try me.”

“I dare you,” You challenge him, using your free hand to pull at the hair at the nape of his neck, earning a soft grunt in return, “—just remember to pull out, yeah?”

Javier full on snorts at that, a noise muffled into your neck when he leans forward, guiding himself to press against your cunt before he sinks in, both of your momentary hostility turning to full bliss.

His hand curves around the back of your head, a simple gesture but maybe more of a warning, his hips snapping into you suddenly, quickly, jostling you against the hard surface. He was protecting your head from the sharp edge of the cabinet and you almost laughed at the thought, but his impatient, fevered movements are sending you into a spiral, eyes rolling back.

“Stay with me,” He teases softly, lips at the base of your neck,  “want you to look at me while I fuck you.”

And you do, boldly, despite how your heart races. You let your body do the work, shutting your mind off for the moment—the hesitation, the worry, the regret that would hit you five minutes after this was over. 

You don’t remember it feeling like this, either. The full body sensation, his gaze heating you from the inside out, your thumb slipping over his bottom lip curiously, his teeth biting down gently on the digit as he fucks you deeper into the surface of the cabinet, if that was possible. 

There are no words, just sounds—moans that could be heard across the bullpen if someone was close enough and Javier, who is plenty vocal and has shown himself to be, can’t even form words, grunting with every few sharp snaps of his hips, fucking you so thouroughly it aches.

“Touch yourself,” He instructs, “let me see, muñequita. Wanna know.”

It doesn’t matter if he’s thought about it before—or, if somewhere in the deep, dark shadows of your mind that you might have had the same thought about him too.

There is no convincing, feeling yourself so on the edge already that it wouldn’t take much. And it doesn’t, your hand descending until your fingers graze over your clit, steadily bringing yourself closer and closer, legs shaking under Javi’s grip until he has to bear most of your weight as you come, blunt fingernails digging into his shoulder as you cry out. And he’s there too, so close and hanging on by a thread, the unsteady thrust of his hips a tell-tale sign.

Your heart is racing, mind too, and the words that come out aren’t anything of rational thinking.

“In my mouth,” You tell him, sounding more earnest than you ever have.

“You sure?”

You laugh through the exhaustion.

“Are you really questioning that?”

He shakes his head in amusement before he’s patting the back of your neck gently and urging you to your knees, jerking himself into your open mouth a few seconds before he’s coming, somehow managing to keep the moment tender as he holds your chin and squeezes gently, watching you swallow down the heady taste of him with your eyes locked on his.

“So, what now?” You ask jokingly, taking the hand he offers to you after a moment of him tucking himself back into his jeans, cursing when you shoulder bumps a stack of files on the way up, dropping them to the floor in a pile. 

Javier fetches your clothes and hands them over, redressing himself before plucking at the files hastily.

You’re nearly dressed when you hear him curse behind you.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Hm?” You turn on your heels, busy tucking your shirt back into your skirt when you spot the item in his hands—a small gold key. “Well—don’t fucking stare at it. Try it.”

Javier approaches the door with quick footsteps, followed by your softer ones as you slip on your heels, gasping as the key turns in the lock and suddenly—the past couple of hours dissipates in an instant.

“Look at it this way,” Javier says lightly, “we’d still be stuck in here otherwise.”

Being that, if he hadn’t fucked you against the filing cabinet you’d be spending your night sleeping on the murky carpet of the file room floor—so, as usual, Javier Pena saves the day.

“Let me give you a ride home,” Javier suggests, “it’s the least I could do.”

“I live like three blocks away from—”

“Humor me?”

You chew at your bottom lip hesitantly.

Javier reaches forward suddenly, soothing the worry with his thumb.

“Pobrecita, if it isn’t all gone, we can try again?”

You slap his hand away gently, wordlessly taking his offer as you step past him, watching as his smile grows to a satisfied grin.

“You didn’t say no,” He adds.

Maybe he hadn’t fucked all of the hate out of you, but it was a start.

↝ special thanks to @undercoverpena for taking a look over this for me <3

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

[ducktoo]

Office Antics

Yena x Reader

Note: Recently rewatched Hyemileeyechaepa and man I missed 2/3 of Jo Yuriz. If you haven't watch it yet I really recommend yall to do it!

Here's for fellow resident duck.

The office was alive with the familiar hum of keyboards and the occasional ring of phones. It was another Monday morning, and as usual, you were the first one at your desk, sipping a subpar instant coffee you’d made from the breakroom. The workday ahead promised to be a mountain of reports, client proposals, and dreaded spreadsheet formatting—tasks that demanded focus. Yet, your mind wasn’t on the work.

No, your thoughts were fixated on a certain someone who had yet to show up.

Choi Yena. Your supervisor. The office’s resident prankster. The embodiment of chaos wrapped in pastel blazers and a permanent grin. She was always the last one to arrive but somehow managed to make her presence known instantly, turning even the dullest workday into a whirlwind of noise and mischief.

You were halfway through organizing the team’s task list for the day when the elevator doors dinged.

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning!” Yena’s sing-song voice bounced off the walls as she burst through the door, holding two iced coffees in her hands. Her grin stretched wide as she plopped one down on your desk.

“Iced Americano for my favourite team member,” she chirped.

You raised an eyebrow, instantly suspicious. The last time she gave you coffee, it was spiked with salt instead of sugar. “What’s the catch, Sunbae?”

Her eyes widened in mock offense. “No catch! Can’t a supervisor just be nice to her hardworking team?”

“Not when that supervisor is Choi Yena,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

She gasped, clutching her chest as if wounded. “Wow. The lack of trust here is unbelievable. I’ll have you know that I’m turning over a new leaf. No pranks today, I swear.”

You weren’t buying it, but the coffee smelled too good to resist. With a cautious sip, you confirmed it was safe. No salt, no hot sauce, no glitter bombs waiting to explode. Yena watched you expectantly, her lips twitching like she was holding back laughter.

“What?” you asked, already bracing yourself for whatever she had planned.

“Nothing!” she said, a little too quickly, before skipping back to her desk.

-

Work officially started at 9:00 a.m., and the day unfolded like any other. You were in charge of preparing the weekly task overview—assigning smaller chunks of projects to each team member while flagging urgent deadlines.

The first task on your list was compiling data for the company’s quarterly performance review. You groaned inwardly, knowing the amount of cross-referencing it would require.

“Hey, sunbae, can we talk about the client feedback report for the Kim & Lee project?” you called over to her.

“Of course,” she replied, spinning her chair dramatically before walking over to your desk with her usual exaggerated flair. “Let’s tackle this head-on. Serious Yena-sunbae mode: engaged.”

You slid the draft report across the desk. “The issue is with the client’s notes on the second phase. They’re asking for an entirely new cost analysis, and we’ve got a two-day turnaround. Can we reassign some of my other tasks?”

Yena leaned over, scanning the document with a furrowed brow. For once, she was genuinely focused. “Hmm. Good point. Let’s offload some of this to Eunji and Sungho. I’ll handle the final approval.” She gave you a thumbs up. “Boom. Delegation, baby.”

-

By mid-morning, the office had settled into its usual rhythm: the quiet clatter of keyboards, the hum of printers, and the occasional buzz of phones. You were elbow-deep in Excel, trying to fix a formula that some long-forgotten coworker had created to "streamline" the quarterly financial summaries.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

“Why does this formula look like someone coded a secret message?” you muttered, leaning closer to your monitor. You had just started unravelling the mess when—

“Ya, ya, yoohoo!” Yena’s voice broke through your concentration, startling you so badly you nearly toppled out of your chair. She was suddenly looming over your desk, holding up a packet of snacks like she’d just discovered gold.

“Want some dried mango?” she asked, dangling the packet in front of your face.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “…Sunbae, do you even work here, or are you just here to disrupt me?”

“Excuse me, I’m your supervisor. Disruption is part of my job description,” she said with a wink. “But seriously, how’s it going with that finance thingy?”

“It’s not a ‘thingy,’ it’s a nightmare,” you replied, gesturing to your screen. “This formula makes no sense. It’s like someone deliberately made it as complicated as possible.”

“Let me see,” she said, pulling up a chair beside you. She squinted at the screen, then immediately leaned back, shaking her head. “Yeah, nope. That’s a you problem. I’m more of a ‘big picture’ kind of gal.”

“Wow, so helpful,” you deadpanned.

“Hey, I didn’t say I couldn’t help in other ways!” she chirped, pulling out her phone.

“Oh no. What are you—”

“Shhh. I’m solving your problem,” she said, cutting you off as she started typing furiously. A moment later, she grinned and held up her phone. “Ta-da!”

You squinted at the screen. It was a meme about how Excel was designed to make grown adults cry.

“Very funny,” you said, but a small smile tugged at your lips.

“See? I’m boosting morale. That’s like, half my job as a supervisor,” she said, patting you on the shoulder before skipping off to her own desk.

-

Five minutes later, the printer jammed.

“YENA-SSI!” someone from the design team shouted.

She popped her head up like a prairie dog. “What? It wasn’t me!”

“It’s always you!”

“I take that personally,” she said, hopping up from her chair and making her way to the printer. “I’ll have you know, I’m a model employee. Watch and learn, folks.”

You glanced over just in time to see her dramatically roll up her sleeves, as if she were about to perform life-saving surgery. She yanked open the printer tray, dug around for a moment, and triumphantly held up the offending piece of paper, which was crumpled beyond recognition.

“Fixed it!” she declared, tossing the mangled paper into the trash.

The printer whirred back to life, and the team gave her a half-hearted round of applause.

“Thank you, thank you,” she said, bowing theatrically. Then, as she walked back to her desk, she sprinkled star-shaped confetti onto the floor behind her like she was leaving a trail of breadcrumbs.

You sighed, already knowing who would be tasked with vacuuming it up later.

-

At around 10:30 a.m., Yena made her rounds through the office. She stopped by everyone’s desk, offering unsolicited advice and handing out snacks like a chaotic fairy godmother.

“Eunji, you’re overthinking that layout. Trust your instincts!”

“Sungho, great job on the client emails, but maybe use fewer emojis next time. We’re professionals, remember?”

When she reached your desk, she leaned over your shoulder and whispered, “Still fighting the Excel file?”

“Yes, and it’s winning,” you replied without looking up.

“Want me to call IT?” she offered.

“I am IT,” you said flatly, earning a laugh from her.

“Well, when you’re done, come see me. We need to prep for the Kim & Lee client pitch. You love PowerPoint, right?”

You groaned. “You’re evil.”

“Evil? No, no. I’m effective,” she said with a wink before disappearing into the break room.

-

When lunchtime rolled around at 12:00 pm, the office buzz quieted as everyone scattered to their usual spots. Some gathered in groups to eat at their desks, while others slipped out for fresh air or made a beeline to the cafeteria. You decided to head to the break room to escape the endless spreadsheets and give your eyes a break from the glaring screen.

As you stepped inside, the smell of warm food hit you immediately—ramyeon, fried rice, someone’s dubious reheated fish—and in the middle of it all sat Yena, perched on the counter with her legs swinging, humming a tune to herself.

“Ah, my loyal team member!” she greeted dramatically, raising her half-eaten kimbap like royalty. “Come to dine with your favorite supervisor?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you made your way to the fridge to grab your lunchbox. “Favorite by default, considering you’re the only supervisor I report to.”

She grinned. “Still counts.”

You settled at the table, peeling back the lid of your leftovers: some rice, grilled chicken, and steamed veggies. Simple, nothing like the variety of colorful side dishes Yena always seemed to have. As if on cue, she hopped off the counter and slid into the seat across from you, pushing her kimbap container into the middle of the table.

“Want some? I made it myself.”

You eyed the kimbap warily. “What’s in it?”

“Rice, seaweed, veggies, and unconditional love,” she said with a wink, holding out a piece with her chopsticks.

You raised an eyebrow. “Unconditional love, huh? Sounds suspicious coming from you. sunbae.”

She gasped dramatically. “Wow! Can’t a supervisor just share her lunch without being accused of foul play?”

“Not when that supervisor once put chili powder in my tteokbokki.”

“That was one time!” she protested, pouting.

“And what about the fake soy sauce prank? Or the time you switched the sugar with salt?”

Yena bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh at the memories. “Okay, fine, maybe I have a history, but I swear this kimbap is safe. Scout’s honour!”

You stared at her for a moment, debating whether you should trust her. Finally, you gave in, cautiously taking a piece from the container. It looked normal enough. Taking a slow bite, you braced yourself for some hidden twist—but to your surprise, it tasted great.

“See? I told you it’s good!” Yena said triumphantly, clapping her hands together. “I’m not just a prankster. I can cook well.”

You shook your head, chewing thoughtfully. “Fine, I’ll admit it. This is actually... really good.”

Her face lit up like you’d just handed her a trophy. “Knew it! Now I feel validated as both your supervisor and a good home cook.”

“Don’t push it,” you warned, but there was no bite to your tone.

The two of you ate in relative peace for a few minutes, the easy banter filling the room. Yena kept sneaking pieces of your chicken when she thought you weren’t looking, and you retaliated by stealing some of her kimbap. It was a rare moment where she wasn’t causing chaos, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying her company.

But, of course, this was Yena. The peace was never meant to last.

“So, about that trust thing,” she started, her voice taking on an innocent lilt that immediately put you on high alert.

“What about it?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Well…” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small plastic spider, dangling it in front of your face with a mischievous grin. “You’re not scared of these, are you?”

Your glare could have cut through steel. “Sunbae, I swear—”

Before you could finish, she tossed the spider onto your rice. You jolted back, startled, only to realize it wasn’t moving. Fake. Of course, it was fake.

“Relax!” she said between bouts of laughter, clutching her stomach. “Your face—oh my gosh, I wish I’d recorded it!”

You picked up the spider and tossed it back at her. “You’re unbelievable. Can’t even make it through lunch without pulling something, can you?”

She dodged it with ease, still giggling. “What can I say? It’s my love language.”

“Your love language is being too nice,” you sarcastically muttered, shaking your head.

Yena just winked, stealing another piece of chicken from your plate. “You’re lucky you have me to keep things fun.”

-

The office was quiet as the clock ticked closer to quitting time. Most of your co-workers had already packed up for the day, leaving you and a few others burning the proverbial midnight oil. Your focus was on the final edits for the Kim & Lee proposal, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you updated figures, corrected typos, and double-checked client specifications.

The spreadsheet in front of you was practically your baby at this point—a meticulously crafted, formula-heavy masterpiece. Losing it would be catastrophic.

As you clicked to save your progress, the screen suddenly froze. Your cursor vanished, replaced by a spinning wheel of doom. Then, without warning, the screen went blue.

You blinked, momentarily stunned.

The iconic blue screen carved deep into your tired mind; the haunting words lingered:

“CRITICAL SYSTEM ERROR. ALL FILES DELETED.”

Your heart stopped.

“No, no, no, no!” you muttered, panic bubbling to the surface. You frantically clicked the keyboard, your mouse, anything to undo the apparent catastrophe. Nothing worked. The message continued to flash, taunting you:

“ALL FILES DELETED. SYSTEM FAILURE IMMINENT.”

Your pulse was racing. Everything—hours of work, detailed charts, carefully formatted tables—gone in an instant. You’d have to start over, and with the deadline looming, that wasn’t just inconvenient; it was impossible.

“Why now? Why me?!” you groaned, your voice echoing in the empty office. Sweat prickled the back of your neck as you opened Task Manager, desperately trying to shut down whatever program had caused this.

That’s when you heard it—a barely stifled giggle.

Slowly, you turned your head, eyes narrowing.

“Yena-sunbae” you said, your voice low and dangerous.

Behind you, Yena stood just outside your cubicle, clutching her phone and biting her lip to keep from laughing. Her shoulders shook with barely contained glee, and her face was turning red from the effort of holding it in.

“What did you do?” you demanded, your tone sharp enough to make her flinch—almost.

That was the wrong question because it sent her over the edge. She exploded into laughter, doubling over as if you’d just told the funniest joke in the world.

“Your face!” she managed to wheeze, tears forming in her eyes. “Oh my gosh, you should’ve seen your face!”

“YENA,” omitting the formality, you shouted, standing up so fast your chair rolled backward.

“It’s—it’s just a screensaver!” she choked out between fits of laughter, holding up her hands in surrender. “Relax! Your files are fine. Everything’s fine! I saved it already!”

You froze, your panic slowly giving way to disbelief—and then anger. “A screensaver? You nearly gave me a heart attack for a screensaver?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “I couldn’t resist! You’ve been on edge all day, and you were so focused—it was too perfect!”

You stared at her, torn between throttling her and collapsing into a puddle of relief. “Yena, I swear, if you ever—”

“I’ll never do it again, promise,” she interrupted, holding up three fingers in a Scout’s honour gesture. Then she ruined it by snorting with laughter. “Okay, maybe not never, but not anytime soon.”

Your glare could’ve melted steel. “You’re lucky I didn’t actually lose anything, or I’d be writing the longest HR report of my life right now.”

“Aw, come on, don’t be mad!” she said, stepping closer and placing her hands on your shoulders. “It was funny, admit it.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you grumbled, sitting back down and trying to calm your frazzled nerves.

“You’ll laugh about it later,” she said confidently. Then, after a beat, she added, “...Maybe.”

You huffed but couldn’t stay mad at her for long. This was Yena, after all. Chaos was her default setting, and you knew what you were signing up for when you started working under her.

“Alright,” you sighed. “But you owe me dinner. And drinks. Good drinks. None of that cheap stuff.”

“Deal!” she chirped, already bouncing on her heels. “Let’s go! My treat. No pranks this time, I promise.”

She linked her arm with yours, dragging you toward the elevator. Despite yourself, a small smile crept onto your face.

With Yena, your life might’ve been unpredictable, messy, and occasionally terrifying—but at least it was never boring.

Even though you wanted to quit halfway through because of her antics.

[murderbot-moodboard]

And we're back with assorted thoughts on episode 5! (Drafted during my second watchthrough.)

- Arada's already showing good potential in her willingness to immediately start shooting at a potential threat. Yeah, she jumped the gun (haha) a bit, but considering they just had a hostile SecUnit ostensibly trying to mow them down that's understandable. And I'm not sure whether she missed on purpose or on accident, but I don't know if we'll find out (or whether it's important in the end anyway).

- LeeBeeBee over here displaying some (blinks rapidly)... imagination. Maybe she doesn't have any experience with ComfortUnits.

- Ratthi, I'm pretty sure Pin-Lee is not ready to talk about starting a family with you at this time, lol. (Also "Sec Unit" is an objectively terrible name for a child, but I think Ratthi also gets a bit of a pass considering what they've just been through.)

- It's actually pretty cool to watch Pin-Lee and Bharadwaj doing repairs on Murderbot. I like finding out that Bharadwaj can be the steady hands doing delicate work in a crisis. And we get more in-universe glasses rep from her this episode! (I always like to make note of this for future cosplay purposes—as a required-glasses-not-contacts wearer it's very hard to find futuristic scifi shows where glasses are accepted in-universe.)

- Murderbot: "He looks way too into this." Gurathin: *looks maybe slightly determined*

- I love all the data compilation sequences, the visual and audio effects are really cool.

- Also love all the book lines that are preserved pretty close to verbatim in this episode. It's cool how they swapped in Bharadwaj for Volescu's part in this episode (and cool that she's more involved in everything at this point than in the book).

- "Seccy?" 😂

- I think it's interesting how Gurathin looks so vulnerable for a minute after getting not-strangled. (Has he been attacked by a SecUnit before?) He also immediately goes "see?" probably thinking now they'll listen to him about SecUnit since he just almost got strangled, but Mensah immediately goes to talk with SecUnit instead. No wonder he's not happy.

- Murderbot's face when LeeBeeBee kisses it 🤣

- That was kind of a nice moment between Mensah and Gurathin before Murderbot interrupted, lol. (Peepee blocking much?) I suspect Murderbot not only wants to annoy Gurathin but also wants to protect Mensah from what it sees as Gurathin's creepy interest. But based on their interaction, there definitely seems to be undercurrents of something else that Murderbot isn't picking up on.

- To be fair to LeeBeeBee, I thought she was potentially going to be really annoying, but she's only a normal amount of annoying.

- Did we get a subtle pronoun self-correction from Mensah? Cool!

- Aww, Murderbot's first real conversation and it's with Mensah. 🥰 Also they show Mensah being smart and insightful the same way she was in the book!

- Oh shit. Talk about a cliffhanger! Was Murderbot rushing to grab the controls? To protect Mensah? Are they going to have to walk back to the habitat?

And that's the end of the episode! I have some more theories, but I think they veer into spoiler territory for future episodes, so I'm going to leave off here for now. Until later!

[ofstoriesandstardust]

i just want your love (twisters - boone)

a/n: whatever, you can pry this from my cold dead heads.

summary: You've been a bit busy with the start of your master's program and Boone is feeling just the teeny tiniest bit left out.

warnings: fluff, alcohol mentions, swearing, insecurities, i hate you theory, when i catch you theory, unedited i wrote this in like an hour and a half

word count: 1.8k

Now, despite popular opinion, Boone was actually smart. 

While most people would’ve written him off as an uneducated, thoughtless hillbilly, Boone actually had a decent head on his shoulders. Reckless, yeah, loud and chaotic, sure. But he was the best editor the team had, swiftly cutting through b-roll and different angles, always putting on the best show for their viewers. 

But academia was not and never had been and probably never would be Boone’s strong suit. He hadn’t even finished high school. 

And when you had made the decision to go back to school for your Master’s you had warned him that it would be a huge time commitment on your end, that you wouldn’t be able to put as much effort or attention into your relationship as you had before. 

Your first semester would be the Fall semester, right at the heart of the off-season. He had pledged to you that he would be the best partner to you as you made the adjustment and he had pledged to himself that he would do his very best to stay out of your way. 

And yeah, sure, it was an adjustment for you. The long days were killer on you but he always made sure you had a lunch packed and a decent dinner to come home to (and if Cathy and Tyler were giving him tips and tricks and recipes on the side, no one needed to know). He had made sure to make himself scarce or at the very least quiet on weekends, hanging out more with Javi or Tyler and Kate, putting together more footage for compilation videos, and even picking up a new video game Javi had recommended to him. He was pretty sure even Dani and Lilly were sick of him hanging around their place, always bugging Lilly about Cairo and upgrades they could make, even though none of his friends ever had the heart to tell him to go away.

But this was killing him. He had been doing okay, because you usually spent time with him after dinner on the weekends or made breakfast with him and on Friday nights he could coerce you to curl up on the couch with a beer and takeout and watch a movie before you inevitably fell asleep with a piece of pizza in hand, forty five minutes into the movie. 

But last night, a Saturday, you hadn’t left the office for dinner until an hour and a half after he had finished it and had stood in the kitchen only long enough to scarf down two helpings before disappearing to finish your homework. And dammit, he missed you. He wanted to curl up with you, you tugging your fingers through his hair, as he laid his head on your stomach and you told him about your day. He wanted to be able to finish editing a video and get your feedback on it before sending it over to the rest of the group. He wanted to tell you about the improvements he and Javi and Lilly were making to Cairo to get better footage and data from the drone. 

So today, as you’re blinking yourself awake through your third sip of coffee, Boone declares he’s going to help you with your homework. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, silent question in your look. He chooses to ignore it, silently proud of himself, thinking about all the time you’ll get to share with him if he finds a way to help you. Maybe he can read your readings to you as you take notes, or help you come up with questions for discussion, or edit through your reflection assignments for class. 

A stack of paper lands in front of him and he glances up at you. You gesture to it silently as you take your seat, clearly waiting for him to “help”. 

He gingerly picks up the packet, flipping over to the first page and is instantly overwhelmed by the words “empiricism” and “epistemology” and “temporal” and “postulates” and “discursive constitutions”. 

“What in the fresh hell does any of this mean?” He mutters as he flips through it, confusion and embarrassment blurring the foreign words together in the face of the truth: He couldn’t help you with this. He wasn’t smart enough. 

You snort into your coffee. “You tell me. You’re the one who said you could help.” 

He lets the papers fall to the table, cheeks burning in shame. You falter, setting your cup down before standing up, wrapping your arms around him from behind. One of your hands combs itself through his curls, working out the knots that had formed while he was asleep last night. 

“Baby, if I can’t figure it out, I don’t know how you expect to figure it out.”

“Hey.” He protests weakly, face growing even hotter in shame at the callout, twisting to pull away from you but your grip tightens. 

“Easy, that’s not what I’m saying.” You say with a tug on his hair. “‘M saying it’s hard all-around and I’m familiar with this field. No wonder it don’t make sense to you. And maybe I shouldn’t have given you the theory, that shit’s meant to be hard, but I wanted to make a point.” He sighs, knowing you’re telling the truth. “Baby, tell me what’s going on.”

“I just-” He sighs, feeling like an idiot for even saying it. “I just miss you.” 

Your hand pauses in his hair. “Boone, we talked about this.” 

And you had. You had made it so clear to him that you would be busy, maybe too busy, and you’d understand if he wanted to break it off. But he hadn’t wanted to lose you and that fear had made him panic, promising things he wasn’t sure he could sustain. 

And Javi and Kate had both warned him separately, the sacrifices grad school required, and even Tyler and Lilly had warned him that the crap he had put up with while they had been in school would be nothing compared to the long work and internship hours, class blocks, and homework loads of grad school. 

But he wanted to be with you more than he cared about a couple of road bumps for a few years while you got a degree that would ultimately, hopefully, let you make a little bit more money to create a better life for the two of you. Not that he thought the life you guys had had before was bad, but if another degree and a bit more money in the bank made you happy, he’d back you in that effort, a hundred and ten percent. 

And yet, he was starting to get the feeling that he was going to get left behind. You had complained to him that there were primarily men in your program, and while he had laughed with you at the idiot comments they’d make in class, he was starting to wonder if it would just take one connection with any of them for you to realize you could be with someone more your speed. Someone smart and someone who understands whatever fancy-pants words this author was using and someone whose schedules matched yours and would just be a better fit all around. 

“Baby, you’re crying.” You whisper and to his horror, he realizes he is, face suddenly wet. 

Before he can even do anything about it, your face swims into view as you sit on his lap. His hands immediately find your waist, the need to have you close persisting past the urge to pretend like nothing is wrong. 

Your thumbs wipe away his tears. “What’s wrong, my love?” You whisper softly, concern etched into the lines of your face. He gives a pitiful shrug. 

“I just think that- that maybe you need to be with someone better. Someone smarter, I guess. Someone who understands what the word postulates means.” 

“I think if anyone who understands theory should legally be considered a psychopath.” Your face falls when he doesn’t laugh at the joke and you sigh. “Baby, you are plenty smart, even if it isn’t with this shit.” 

“But what if you meet someone better there? Someone who can understand you?” 

You give a sad smile. “Baby, you do understand me. And all those men are old or married or gay or extremely annoying. Or E, all of the above. I don’t want them.” 

“But you want me?” 

It doesn’t make sense to him. It has never made sense to him, but it especially doesn’t make sense to him now. 

“Booney, of course I want you. How could I not?” 

And well, he could think of one or two reasons. Or twenty. 

“Booney, this has been one of the hardest adjustments in my life. But you’ve been so great through it, always making sure I eat and go to bed at a decent hour and do all my homework so I’m not waking up at odd hours of the night, stressed out of my mind. And it’s been really fucking lonely, being at a school where I can’t along with any of my classmates and I don’t know anyone else, but you’re always making sure I’m seeing the Wranglers for barbecue at least once a week, or catching up with Kate over coffee or going riding with Tyler. You’re making sure my head stays on, making sure I’m taking care of myself. And I’m sorry I haven’t been taking care of you in return. 

“No,” He protests. “No, this is dumb shit, it ain’t-”

“It ain’t dumb shit, it’s your feelings, and I’m sorry I haven’t been paying attention. I’m gonna make more of an effort to try.” Once he nods, and you see the confirmation you’re looking for, you sigh, hands leaving his face. “Listen, I only got one chapter to read today, so let me finish eating and go do that, and then I’m yours the rest of the day. You can have me all day, although I should maybe shower at some point, cause I can’t remember the last time I took one.” 

He offers you a watery smile. “You mean it? I’m not gonna be a major distraction? If you got shit to do, I- I understand. I can go over to T’s or something.”

You shake your head. “No, no. I mean it.” 

“Can we just- just stay in bed the whole day? Watch movies or something?” He asks shyly. You nod, a grin growing. 

“Sounds heavenly baby.” 

He lets you go, maybe a bit reluctantly, as you finish your eggs before disappearing into the office, and then to the shower an hour later. He can’t help but join you, almost too pleased to have your undivided attention. 

Later that night, as both of your phones are set on the nightstand on do not disturb, takeout containers strewn across the room, the Harry Potter films flickering on a forgotten screen, he nudges your cheek with his nose. “I fucking love you baby.” He whispers. “You’re- the whole world to me.” 

You hum, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too, baby. I ain’t going nowhere, nowhere in the whole world I’d wanna be then right here.”

[sorceressofthesky]

Piltover and Zaun Lore Deep Dive

I've been doing extensive research into the history of P&Z for a Silco and Vander origin story fic, and I figured it could be helpful to share my findings here too!

My main goal was to try and integrate known Arcane lore with League lore and iron out some of the creases, to nail down exactly what the world of P&Z looked like in Arcane. I've done a lot of extrapolating and theorising to make sense of it all, but if you're just interested in the raw data from canon, I've compiled all my notes on a Google Doc. All sources are listed throughout.

The contents of this post are as follows:

Part 1: Chronology (the timeline)

Part 1.1: Chronology in League of Legends

Part 1.2: Chronology in Arcane

Part 1.3: Integrating the timelines

Part 2: Geography (the layout of P&Z)

Part 2.1: Existing maps of Piltover and Zaun

Part 2.2: Geography in League of Legends

Part 2.3: Geography in Arcane

Part 2.4: Integrating the layouts

Part 3: Modern Zaun (ft. Silco and Vander)

Part 3.0: Preamble

Part 3.1: The timeline of Zaun’s creation

Part 3.2: Vander and Silco’s early life

Part 3.3: Golden age of Vander and Silco

Part 3.4: After the betrayal

Part 4: Wrap-Up

Summary of the timeline

~~~

Part 1.1: Chronology (League of Legends)

Information derived from the LoL Fandom Wiki and official LoL website, with most details corroborated by various Reddit threads and similar forums. BN means Before Noxus, and AN means After Noxus.

6000-5000 BN: Westward Migration. Humans began to migrate from the eastern hemisphere to the western hemisphere, towards the Shuriman Continent. Settlers founded many new nations and cities. Among these was a sea port called Oshra Va’Zaun (also referred to in some places as Osha Va’Zaun or Kha’Zhun, but I went with what was most consistently used on the Wiki). Oshra Va’Zaun connected the Shuriman Continent to Valoran via an isthmus, or artificial land bridge, that allowed for free trade between the continents and also comprised docks from which sailors could travel in and out. The people of Oshra Va’Zaun worshipped Janna (then known as Jan’ahrem), the wind spirit. As a spirit god, she relies on prayers to keep her strong. Sailors and merchants would pray for calm seas, and she would deliver.

2000-3 BN: Various Wars. The fall of the Shuriman Empire (2000 BN), the Darkin War (550 BN) and the Rune Wars (25-3 BN) all took place during this time. Janna protected Oshra Va’Zaun from every conflict, preventing it from becoming rubble.

772 AN: The Collapse. The people of Oshra Va’Zaun planned to destroy a portion of the isthmus connecting Valoran and the Southern Continent, allowing for safe sea passage between eastern and western Valoran. The plan was to use thousands of Chemtech bombs to crack open an area of the land so that a cavern could be created. Instead, the bombs triggered a series of earthquakes that completely destroyed the isthmus and sank large districts of Zaun. Thousands of citizens were killed, and poisonous gases leaked into the city’s surviving areas. Allegedly, Janna saved many of the citizens by holding back the seas to prevent floods.

790 AN: Piltover is Established. Over the last 18 years, the ruins of Oshra Va’Zaun underwent extensive reconstruction. The Sun Gates were established to regulate travel through the oceanic passage that had opened up where the isthmus used to be. This essentially forced all ocean transport through these waters, which brought wealth to the city and spurred the development of Piltover - named after its construction over the Pilt River. Merchant clans dominated the trade route and built up towards the sky, while those still living in the ruins built down into the fissures.

~~~

Part 1.2: Chronology (Arcane)

The only traces I could find of a timeline were on the League of Legends Universe Wiki, where birth years are given for several of the main characters. Most were given a range, as follows:

676 AN: Heimerdinger is born

959-963 AN: Jayce is born

961-968 AN: Viktor is born

966-970 AN: Caitlyn is born

967-971 AN: Vi is born

972-976 AN: Jinx is born

In Season 1 Act 1, Heimerdinger specifically states that he is 307, and Jayce states that he is 24. The writers also stated that 7 years had passed between Acts 1 and 2. This gives us a good base to work from, especially since Heimerdinger's birth year is the only one that is dated precisely. 676 + 307 = 983; thus, Act 1 takes place in 983 AN, and Act 2 onwards takes place in 990 AN. Working backwards, we can determine that Jayce was born in 959 AN, and everything works itself out from there.

676 AN: Heimerdinger is born. He is 307 (Act 1) / 314 (Act 2 and beyond).

959 AN: Jayce is born. He is 24 / 31.

961 AN: Viktor is born. He is 22 / 29.

966 AN: Caitlyn is born. She is 17 / 24 (honestly 17 seems too old to me based on what we see of her in Act 1, but 966 is the earliest year listed on her wiki page, so this is what I’m running with).

967 AN: Vi is born. She is 16 / 23.

972 AN: Jinx is born. She is 11 / 18.

983 AN: Events of Act 1. Key events here are the raid on the Kiramman warehouse and the subsequent invention of Hextech.

990 AN: Events of Act 2. At the start of Act 2, Heimerdinger says that Piltover is turning 200, so this works out perfectly with the League of Legends timeline.

~~~

Part 1.3: Chronology (Integrated)

So, how exactly do Arcane and League lore fit together? The answer essentially boils down to: there isn't one. Everyone in every thread has a different solution, and the timeline is so messy that there is even a dedicated Wiki page to all the various contradictions. I'm going to spend this final section developing my own theories and solutions based on what I know; feel free to take or leave any of this.

Pre-772 AN: From everything I’ve read, it seems like there are hardly any indications of Zaun and Piltover’s history before the events of the main timeline. There is no mention of Janna at all in Arcane, but subtle imagery of her is sprinkled throughout the art, which suggests that she could still be a figure present in the history and protection of Zaun. Thus, I think we can reasonably assume that everything was much the same up to the collapse. There don't seem to be any lore inconsistencies prior to 772 AN that would make the timeline impossible (other than Heimerdinger having supposedly lived through the Rune Wars, but Yordle lore is a whole different ball game that I'm not even going to touch lmao).

Post-772 AN: From the collapse onwards, there are two main issues I ran into in getting the lore to match up. One of these issues is the absence of the Sun Gates in Arcane. Instead, the Hexgates play the role of facilitating trade, which is treated like a new and revolutionary invention. This raises questions regarding how exactly Piltover came to prosper for ~2 centuries before Hextech. It’s possible that the Sun Gates did exist at a point in time, but were destroyed for one reason or another before we get to the main timeline. Otherwise, it could just be that they flourished through maritime trade for a while without the Sun Gates, given that they are still positioned at the intersection between continents (the Hexgates facilitate air travel, not sea travel, so that would have still been a pivotal change). The council is made up of wealthy merchant clans, which suggests that Piltover was still a place of high traffic for traders. We also know that Piltover and Zaun are realms of innovation, and with Heimerdinger at the forefront of Piltover’s establishment, it seems viable that they had a lot to offer that made Piltover attractive to other regions. This also raises the question of what exactly Piltover was inventing before Hextech, but I'm going to shelve that question, as it integrates slightly better with the next section.

The other issue that came up is with regards to Chemtech. In League lore, Chemtech is consistently listed as “Zaun’s answer to Hextech”. The Wiki also mentions that it has existed in Zaun “since the early 900s AN”, but wasn’t widely used until “the later half of the 900s AN”. There are two issues with this. Firstly, the lore specifically mentions that Chemtech bombs were used to explode the land in 772 AN, which means that it did exist before the 900s. The second issue is that Hextech was not invented until 983 AN, which contradicts the notion that Chemtech was “Zaun’s answer” to it. We see green lights all over the Lanes in Arcane Episode 1, so it was definitely in use before Hextech existed. So the questions that arise are 1) What was the timeline of Chemtech usage in Zaun?, 2) Why wasn’t it ever used in Piltover?, and 3) Why was Piltover the city that prospered through trade and innovation, if Zaun was the one who had Chemtech?

I think the most sensible answer to question 2 is simply that it's toxic. People in Piltover are terrified of change, judging by the council’s reaction to magic the first time Jayce brings it up. If a Chemtech bomb was what caused the destruction of Oshra Va’Zaun in the first place, it makes sense that Piltover would have avoided using it. This could also help with the answer to question 1. If we believe that Chemtech wasn't widely used in Zaun until the 900s, it could just be that they were afraid to touch it again for a very long time after the collapse. That just leaves question 3, and I think to answer this, we need to return to that earlier question of what exactly Piltover invented/traded that cemented their position of affluence. The official League webpage for Piltover talks extensively about Hextech, and also includes images of Piltover's inventions under the umbrella of "Hextech". However, there are three images in that category that stand out to me as different:

In the bottom series of pictures, three of the images are in black and white, and look more like sketches than the fully-rendered designs of the other inventions. The first of these images is just a string of merchant clan sigils, which don't give us all that much information. What I'm most interested in are the second image, which is a dome-shaped streetlight:

And the third image, which is a "Pneuma-Tube Conduit":

The black-and-white design of these makes them look older, as opposed to the modern designs of objects like the gauntlets, which we know are newer. That indicates that these inventions existed before Hextech. The light source looks like it has a wire running through it and a switch of sorts, which suggests that they had some form of electricity. Another possibility is that it functions using solar power, given that the Zaunites, despite being inventors in their own rights, seem to rely mostly on Chemtech for light and haven't been able to built light sources that can pierce darkness/the Grey. It would make sense if they simply don't get the sunlight down there to operate them properly.

The pneuma tube is the most notable to me, given that it seems to match the tube Grayson gives Vander in Episode 1 as a method of contacting her ("this will reach me, and only me") - again, before Hextech existed. What's interesting about that tube is that, when I went back to the scene where Vi decides to turn herself in, the tube arrives with a puff of gas and a small lime-coloured light that turns on. There's also a green-tinted lamp in the police station where they appear to be located. It looks very Chemtech-like, which I'm intrigued by; it makes me wonder if Piltover actually does use Chemtech to some extent, but in much smaller doses with extensive safety measures to keep the gases from escaping.

I also found a Weebly website, which looks very unofficial (i.e. I cannot verify any of the information on there) but has a ton of lore for various regions, including the only mention I could find of a Piltovian energy source that wasn't Hextech. The site mentions that Piltover uses liquids and gases from a nearby marsh to power the city. This seems like a viable option to me, especially given the detail of the gases coming off the tube, and the images of factories with smoke coming from the underground. So I guess, rather than being Zaun's "answer" to Hextech, Chemtech is more like the toxic and volatile version of the various controlled gases and liquids that Piltover uses as an energy source.

On the topic of other things Piltover invented, here are some additional notes from my research:

Weaponry - There are guns everywhere in Piltover, particularly for the Enforcers. Presumably one of the wealthy clans had to manufacture these.

Tools - We know that the Talis family gained wealth and notoriety for their invention of various tools, including mostly hammers and the "collapsible pocket wrench".

Lock System - Amanda Overton stated that the Kirammans became wealthy for building "the very important lock system in the channel that first allowed trade between regions". I suppose this must have been instead of the Sun Gates, if we're assuming they don't exist?

Other Systems - The Kirammans also appeared to be the ones who built the underground ventilation system for Zaun. The tube conduit is also an example of a miscellaneous system invented by someone in Piltover, as well as presumably whatever wiring system allows the streetlights to function.

Machinery/Machine Parts - It's mentioned in League lore that the Medarda clan became wealthy for their invention of the piston, which is part of an engine. It's unclear whether this is still the case in Arcane, though.

Prosthetics - In the story The Lady of Clockwork, it's said that Corin Reveck was renowned for his design of prosthetics. Arcane canon calls him a "revered academy alchemist", so it seems like his creations there had more to do with chemistry and magic, but prosthetics could have been the specialty of someone else in Piltover.

Clockwork - I've also seen Corin Reveck described as a clockwork inventor, so revolutionary clocks and time-based inventions could have also come out of Piltover.

Cameras - Caitlyn has a camera in Act 1 when she's investigating the crime scene after the Firelights raided Silco's shipment. The flash has a blue tint, so this could have been a Hextech invention, but I was interested to see that it had a green pipe running along the side; perhaps it was a Zaunite camera that she asked Jayce to modify for her.

Food/Drink - In S1E4, it's mentioned that Councillor Hoskel ships wine to Noxus. Perhaps some clans in Piltover accumulated wealth from unique food/drink products that other regions could not cultivate.

Various Gadgets - Mel's very first scene shows her choosing a gift for Hoskel from an assortment of mechanical gadgets. These could have been a smaller byproduct of Piltover's invention boom. This category also covers the items in Jayce's lab, many of which seem to be assorted gadgets like the nose hair trimmer, the spinning mobile on the ceiling and the "real Valdiani".

So, to recap, here's a summary of the integrated timeline for P&Z in Arcane:

Pre-772 AN: Westward migration led to the establishment of the sea port of Oshra Va'Zaun. Wars ravaged the Shuriman Continent, but Oshra Va'Zaun was protected through all of it, until their own innovation caused the collapse of the isthmus via Chemtech bomb.

Post-772 AN: Piltover was gradually built over the ruins, and formally established in 790 AN. Meanwhile, those still living underground were forced into labour, working in the mines and factories to provide for Piltover's inventions. Piltover became richer and richer as trade increased, while the people of Zaun had nothing themselves.

959-972 AN: Births of the leading cast members. Jayce is the oldest, and Jinx is the youngest.

983 AN: Events of Act 1. Vi, Powder, Mylo and Claggor raid the Kiramman warehouse. Hextech is invented. Vander turns himself in for the raid, Silco intercepts the arrest, and Vander, Mylo and Claggor end up dead.

990 AN: Events of Act 2. The main Arcane timeline starts here.

~~~

Part 2.1: Geography (Maps)

Figure 1: Piltover and Zaun in the wider landscape of Runeterra (source)

Figure 2: Piltover trade routes per the Medarda Heirloom (source)

Figure 3: Piltover and Zaun map in Arcane (source)

Figure 4: Map of Piltover and Zaun from Jinx Fixes Everything (source)

Figure 5: Map of Piltover and Zaun from World Anvil (source)*

*I'm not sure of the exact source for this map; the page I found this from is a fanmade D&D campaign but the creator has a disclaimer that they sourced the artwork externally and do not own it.

Figures 6 and 7: Maps of P&Z from Arcane and the Medarda Heirloom respectively. The Arcane map has been rotated to align the structure of the land masses in the Medarda Heirloom.

~~~

Part 2.2: Geography (League of Legends)

In League, Zaun is built quite literally underneath Piltover; there are some absolutely beautiful official artworks depicting this. In the League version of Zaun, there are three levels, as per the Wiki page:

Promenade Level: The top level of Zaun. Described as an "entertainment and commercial zone", this is where Zaun's wealthy reside, and where the line between Piltover and Zaun blurs. Some of its features include a thriving marketplace on the boundary (several regions are named specifically; the Boundary Markets and the Skylight Commercia), a pump station to move clean air from Piltover into Zaun, and the College of Techmaturgy.

Entresol Level: The level just below Promenade, this is considered the main hub of activity for Zaunites. It's one of the most populated districts between the two cities, and is also where the Zaun Grey lingers most. Some of its features include augmentation parlours for prosthetics and other bodily augmentations, a breather station where Zaunites can find reprieve from the Grey, the Chemtech Seam in the cliffs where compounds for Chemtech are sourced, markets and greenhouses, and laboratories for science and invention.

Sump Level: Zaun's deepest level where the light doesn't reach. It's chaotic and grim, with disorderly piping everywhere and discarded waste from Piltover. This is the origin of the Grey, from polluted waterways and grilles. Some of its features include a pump station for removing sewage, a prison mine where convicts are forced to mine Chemtech compounds, factories and warehouses, a surviving clock tower from Oshra Va'Zaun, densely-populated slums, the Black Lanes where merchants and thieves do business, sewers, an orphanage and an asylum.

Other Features: There's a large cliff in Zaun that makes up part of the Promenade Level, and is home to shipping docks and the Sun Gates. There are also Hexdraulic Conveyors in various locations throughout Zaun, which allow Piltovans to descend into Zaun - some available to the public, and some for private use, especially for the Chem-Barons and wealthy Piltovans.

As for Piltover, per the Wiki page, there are only two main regions - North Piltover and South Piltover:

North Piltover: Most of the clans have their mansions and "heavily guarded workshop compounds" here, in a region called Bluewind Court. The north also contains a menagerie, theatres and workshops, a promenade of cafes and bistros, and a region dedicated to banks and secure vaults for the wealthy.

South Piltover: Not much is mentioned of South Piltover, but it seems like it involves several shopping districts, more workshops and lavish residences, and the fissures where Zaun is located.

I recognised a lot of the location names on the Wiki from the map in Figure 5, so presumably the north just means everything north of the canal and the south is the region on the other side; then Zaun exists directly underneath southern Piltover, carved out of the land underneath the fissures.

~~~

Part 2.3: Geography (Arcane)

The geography in Arcane was a little confusing to make sense of. These are the changes noted on the Wiki:

The Sun Gates do not exist

The fissures are narrower

Zaun does not have three levels, instead being divided into the Lanes which each represent one of the fissures

The tallest tower in Zaun is now the Chem-Baron tower, which replaces the College of Techmaturgy

There are no Hexdraulic Descenders, instead replaced by smaller elevators

The Lanes in Zaun are home to Babette's brothel and The Last Drop

The Firelight Hideout is built in a large, abandoned sewer

The north and south parts of Piltover are connected by The Bridge of Progress

In mid-Piltover is the University of Piltover, located near the Hexgates, where most council meetings take place

Stillwater Hold is located on an island just outside the eastern part of the city

I've read a lot of other forum threads, and it seems like there's no real consensus on where exactly Zaun is located in relation to Piltover. Some people say it's still directly underneath southern Piltover, while others think the entire region across the bridge (see Figure 3) is now entirely Zaun. I get the impression that a lot of the confusion comes from Arcane visuals that make it look like Zaun is just everything on the other side of the bridge. Vander also describes the Undercity as "our side", making it seem like Zaun is that entire side of the region rather than just a part of it built underground.

Personally, I'm inclined to think Zaun is still predominantly underneath Piltover, judging by the maps in Figures 3 & 4 from Arcane canon. It seems like the Alcove District, Low Piltover and South Side Harbour are still part of south Piltover, while everything around the Fissures are part of Zaun. The scene in Season 1 Episode 1 where Vi and the kids are running away from the Enforcers also seems to support this. They run through a corridor, then slide down a sewer grate, into the underground where we can see all of Piltover's metal scraps and parts discarded as per the lore. I presumed, from this, that the first place they entered across the bridge was still part of Piltover, and then they went down the pipe to get to Zaun. Deckard confronts them before they take the elevator even further down, and we know that this confrontation happened on their "side", per Vi's conversation with Vander, so this was likely an upper part of Zaun.

Additionally, we see this wide shot as they run across the bridge:

Figure 8: Wide shot of the Bridge of Progress from Season 1 Episode 1, timestamp 13:01

Figure 8 shows Zaun/South Piltover on the left side of the bridge, and North Piltover on the right side. The architecture immediately across the bridge still looks very Piltovian, while towards the back of the image, we can see large green towers and smoke, more akin to Zaunite infrastructure. This makes me think there's still something like the Promenade level at the same altitude as south Piltover, where the lines between cities are blurred, but most of the activity takes place underneath. The maps from Arcane are also specifically labelled "Piltover", which further supports the idea that the entire region is Piltover, with most of Zaun lying underneath.

~~~

Part 2.4: Geography (Integrated)

I don't think Zaun was just made up of the Lanes, as the Wiki page seems to imply. There's a line from Silco in S1E3 in which he says "not just for the Lanes, but the whole of the underground united as one". It seems like the Lanes were the region Silco and Vander had control over ("you had my respect, the Lanes' respect" - Vander, S1E3), but there were other parts to the underground too.

There's a really useful Twitter post here that proposes one theory as to how Arcane and League geography can be integrated. As previously mentioned, I like the idea that the levels still exist to some extent. The Promenade level bleeds into South Piltover, and looks to be where many of the factories and warehouses are located judging by the smoke - as well as, of course, the Chem-Baron tower where Silco gasses them all in S1E7. This is also where the fight with Deckard happened. Every theory I've seen that incorporates the levels places The Last Drop on Entresol, so I'm inclined to say that's where the Lanes are located, with The Last Drop a central feature, and quite close to the Sump. And the Sump is where the mines are, all the way down in the lowest inhabitable (using that term very loosely) part of Zaun. There are also ruins of Oshra Va'Zaun underneath this where it's completely deserted.

~~~

Part 3.0: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Preamble)

So all of this brings me back to the question at the heart of it all: where do Silco and Vander fit in? There are three big questions I am aiming to answer in this section.

Question 1: What is the timeline of Silco and Vander's past?

Question 2: What did Zaun look like before Silco and Vander took control of it?

Question 3: What was their vision for Zaun and how far did they get with it?

Before I can get into answering those questions, I want to compile everything that we already know about Silco and Vander. From Arcane canon, here is what we're given:

Vander and Silco started as miners who "had nothing" (Silco's words, S1E9), and had a shared vision for what Zaun could have been. Silco talks very distastefully about his experience in the mines, describing "air so thick it clogged your throat, stuck in your eyes".

They are said to have "built the underground", according to Sevika (or, at the very least, she says that Vander built the underground).

Zaun was governed by Piltover and their council; Silco and Vander wanted Zaun to become an independent nation in its own right.

Silco’s description in S1E3: “We shared a vision, Vander. A dream of freedom. Not just for the Lanes, but the whole of the underground united as one. The Nation of Zaun.” In S1E9, he also says "everything we ever wanted" when he's talking to the Vander statue about Jayce's offer of peace, so all signs point to them having both been set on independence for Zaun.

Sevika says that "Silco spent his whole life trying to rally the Undercity together" in S2E4.

At some point, Felicia joined their fight, and the three of them were seen at The Last Drop together around the time of its founding. Sevika and Connol also knew them in their youth. I don't believe it's ever explicitly stated whether Benzo knew them back then, but Vander mentions him by name to Silco, which suggests a mutual connection.

Felicia speaks about the vision for Zaun as theirs, not hers, so it seems like her role was not quite as prominent as theirs in the actual conception and construction of Zaun.

Felicia encourages Silco and Vander to "figure this Zaun thing out", even if they have to "carve it out of the bedrock, covered in blisters". Much like Sevika using the word "built", this seems to imply a very literal kind of construction.

When Vi, Powder and co raid the Kirammans' warehouse, Vi mentions that it's exactly the kind of job Vander would've done when he was their age. We know that Vi was 16 at the time, and Mylo and Claggor were also both older than Powder, so presumably she means 15-16.

In S1E2, Vander tells Vi that when he was younger, he "was angry" about the treatment of Zaun by Piltover, and led the bridge riot that killed Felicia and Connol.

Using this post and the Arcane artbook as a guide, I also pulled information out of comments from the creators, which I'm regarding as canon-adjacent:

The Lanes is the black market area of the Undercity, created through Vander and Silco's smuggling operation that gave them the chance to make money outside of working as miners for topsiders.

Silco "grew up working in the mines", which is where Vander, Silco and Felicia met. It's also mentioned that this is why he was the only one who could tolerate the gas in S1E7, but he specifically says that the Chem-Barons used to work in the mines as well (“The mines they had us in” / “I pulled you all up from the depths”), so that seems inconsistent. I'm inclined to believe that it's a combination of him growing up in the mines and continuing to live on the Entresol level (in The Last Drop), while the others lived on the Promenade level.

Silco and Vander led a movement towards independence. Both were unhappy with the "oppressive feeling" of being "under the thumb of Piltover".

In the artbook, it's said that Silco hated the way he was treated by Piltover and wanted to prove that he was more than what the world had made him out to be. He and Vander "tried to build this world together", with the main goal of independence and pride for Zaun. Ultimately, there were limits to what Vander was willing to lose, while Silco always wanted to keep fighting no matter the cost.

There's an image of young Benzo with Silco, Vander and Felicia in the artbook, confirming the implication that he knew them at that time.

The bridge riot was incited after Benzo got arrested, and Silco was the one really pushing for the uprising; hence he was the one who threw the first Molotov cocktail. This was when Vander decided that violence was not the way to achieve peace.

Amanda Overton frequently refers to that riot as the "Day of Ash". I could only find one source on this, a Fandom Wiki page with no additional references cited. According to this page, the Day of Ash took place on December 1st 979 AN, and involved a protest march on the Bridge of Progress in which over 100 unarmed Zaunites were shot and 84 died on the spot. This seems inconsistent with what we see in canon (the "unarmed" part specifically; Silco throwing the Molotov, Vander beating up Enforcers with his mining gloves), but I'm listing it here anyway for full disclosure.

The drowning incident happened after the riot, apparently after Vander had already taken the kids (so I guess he came back for Silco??? Or it happened a few days after?).

Something else worth noting is that in the Season 2 flashback, Felicia says that "tonight", their dream of turning the underground into a community became a reality. This obviously marks a very significant date for them, and they toast to the occasion. My assumption was that this was meant to show us the opening of The Last Drop, and that's what I ran with for much of my analysis throughout this section; however, I don't think it's ever actually specified which milestone they're celebrating, so this detail is ultimately up to interpretation.

~~~

Part 3.1: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Timeline)

All of the wiki pages I've looked at place Silco at 37-39 in Act 1, and 43-46 in Act 2; and for Vander, 43 in Act 1 and 50 in Act 2 (in the AU/as Warwick). As far as birth years go, this would translate to 944-946 AN for Silco, and 940 AN for Vander.

At the time of The Last Drop's opening, Felicia is pregnant with Vi. That would place this scene in either 966 or 967 AN. I struggled to find an official reference for Arcane character birthdays, but Vi's birthday is very consistently celebrated on December 19th across the fandom, which puts us in early 967. That makes Silco and Vander 21-23 and 27 respectively. Based on what we see of Silco in that scene, I'm inclined to place him at the upper end of that range, or even a year or two older. So more like 39-41 in Act 1 and 46-48 in Act 2.

The Day of Ash is an interesting conundrum. 979 AN, as per the wiki article I found, would make Vi and Powder 12 and 7 respectively. I'm not sure how reliable the source is, and my personal estimate would have been 977-978 AN, factoring in the kids' ages and the time it would take for Silco to rebuild his life from scratch.

Combining all of this information, we get the following timeline:

940 AN: Vander is born

942-944 AN: Silco is born

966-967 AN: The Last Drop is opened

977-979 AN: The Day of Ash

For the next few sections, I'd like to have precise years to focus on, so I'm going to run with these dates:

940 AN: Vander is born. He is 43 / 50.

943 AN: Silco is born. He is 40 / 47.

967 AN: The Last Drop is opened. This marks the birth of modern Zaun.

978 AN: The Day of Ash. Silco is betrayed, and Vander swears off violence.

~~~

Part 3.2: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Early Life of S&V)

Content warning for discussions of slavery/slave labour in this section; I'll mark the paragraph that includes this with ~!!~ at the start just in case anyone wants to skip it.

It's pretty solid canon that Vander and Silco started as miners, and built up their world of Zaun from there. The mining tunnels run all along the fissures, as per this map from the Jinx Fixes Everything minigame:

Figure 9: Map of mining tunnels from Jinx Fixes Everything

I get the impression, based on the prevalence of the tunnels & Silco's dialogue to the Chem-Barons ("We had nothing" / "Have you forgotten where we came from? The mines they had us in?") that the underground, at the time, was mostly just mines.

~!!~ I'm particularly interested in how this fits in with the original League geography of the Sump, given that's where the mines are located. In League, the Sump included a prison mine for "Chemtech compounds", factories, warehouses, and slums where the workers lived. There's one particular factory mentioned which involved "slave labour camps" and "tightly controlled torture chambers". This is a very dark but plausible look into one possibility for the Undercity's past. Since Silco and Vander were said to have grown up in the mines, I assume it's most likely that they were the children of prisoners, rather than prisoners themselves - although it isn't outside the realm of possibility, since Powder's visibly young age did not stop the Enforcers from going after her at the beginning of the show. Alternatively (if we want to assume the slave labour aspect did not exist/was very far in the past) we could just assume Vander and Silco were children of people who worked in the mines, and were essentially born into it.

Regardless, I don't think they had many other options outside of mining, so we can assume that this was much the same for most people living in the Undercity. Something I'm curious about is, with the interpretation that there was still some semblance of a level system in modern Zaun, when and how Entresol and Promenade came about.

My personal assumption for Promenade is that the level existed as a sort of gateway between south Piltover and the underground. The elevator from S1E1 is on this level, and it looks to be in an abandoned house, judging by the stairs, furniture and paintings on the walls. The decor is quite fancy and the people in the paintings are dressed similarly to the Kirammans in their family portraits, which makes me think this was the repurposed home of a wealthy topsider. One possibility is that Promenade held the residences of Piltovan elites who worked close to Zaun (e.g. owned factories, oversaw mining operations). I think it's unlikely that Promenade had anything to do with Silco and Vander's operations, since it's much closer to the surface than where they reside, but their revolution could have been the force that drove many of the topsiders out.

Entresol is where the Lanes and The Last Drop are located, so I'm inclined to assume this was the part that Silco and Vander built. This is also corroborated by the various references to the Lanes in S1E3, which I elaborated on in Part 2.4, that makes it sound like this was the part that they had the most involvement with. This was where both of them ended up living, and Vander says that Silco "had the Lanes' respect", suggesting that this was where they started out, too.

The way Sevika and Felicia both talk about Silco and Vander's work makes it sound like they built the Lanes in a very literal sense. This leaves us with two main questions; 1) What was there before?, and 2) How much of it was built by them?. Unfortunately for us, I don't think there's actually enough in canon to answer either of those questions with any real certainty. The best I can do is suggest possibilities. We do know that there were other parts to the underground outside of the Lanes, so one possibility is that there was already a community inhabiting Entresol that they took over as their own - perhaps a small rebel group, or colonies of Zaunite labourers who lived on that level. These are all the other options I came up with:

There were semi-intact ruins still lying around Entresol that they built out of.

There was a large, empty space in the place that would later become the Lanes. They built on top of this and filled out the entire region.

They literally built the Entresol level themselves. The mining tunnels had been dug out of nothing, and all that was lying on top of them was rock; they quite literally "carve[d] it out of the bedrock", as Felicia's phrasing would imply.

So in summary, I'm imagining that the Sump was the main region of the Undercity at the time, comprising a network of mines where the Grey originated, sewers for wastage from up above, and potentially factories or warehouses as well. Another question is what exactly was being mined here, and again, we can turn to League lore for possible ideas. The prison mines mentioned on the Zaun wiki page were for "Chemtech compounds". Amanda Overton described Silco and Vander as "miners working for topsiders", which makes me wonder - if they were mining for Chemtech compounds - what exactly the topsiders in question wanted to do with those compounds. This brings me back to my long-winded Chemtech musings from Part 1.3. I can think of three primary explanations for this:

The compounds in question could be used for a variety of inventions, not just Chemtech. Perhaps there were elements involved that had to be chemically separated; one of which was safer and used to power Piltover's inventions, while the other was highly toxic and was originally discarded as waste, but later became the basis for Chemtech.

Chemtech was mined and used in smaller doses/quantities in Piltovian inventions, while the people of the Undercity began to use it in larger quantities, harnessing the toxic properties that released the Grey as a byproduct.

Chemtech compounds were one of many things mined, and were used for inventions that were limited to the underground, like mechanical mining and factory tools (drills, bombs, transport, etc.)

Alternatively, if we ignore the mention of Chemtech, we could assume that the underground was rich in natural minerals and resources that Piltovans needed for their inventions. We could also assume they were mining for the other gases and/or liquids that Piltovans used as an energy source (it's mentioned that these came from a "nearby marsh", but I couldn't find an actual canon source for that, so I think it's fine to take some liberties with it). I suspect that there are many other possible explanations, with the foundational principle being that they were mining for materials which the topsiders would then use to boost their own wealth, one way or another.

~~~

Part 3.3: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Golden Age of S&V)

In S1E5, we see an old hideout of Silco and Vander's, with plans for the Nation of Zaun strewn all over the desk and plastered on the walls. I've compiled a list of everything we see in that hideout and where it's all located:

CEILING/TOP

Pipework

Low wooden beams

Lantern box hanging from the ceiling

LEFT OF THE ENTRANCE

Boxes/crates

Barrels

Mining gloves

Shovel

Something coiled and hanging on the left wall - perhaps a rope? Or a hose?

RIGHT OF THE ENTRANCE

Small wooden table

Vanity next to the coat rack

Another shovel

Time-worn plans covering the right wall (maps, tables, lots of illegible writing)

BACK OF THE ROOM

Left corner, storage unit/bookshelf (books, boxes, small lopsided paper bag, cylindrical flask or thick drink bottle?)

Left of centre, jackets and hats

Centre, flag with green, red and gold detailing, NoZ logo in gold

Right corner, coat rack and a ledge with hangers and a kettle

CENTRE OF THE ROOM

Desk (more books, flask, glass, tobacco pipe, letter)

Another crate

Knocked-over stool

Tall chair (for the vanity?)

TRIVIA

Walls are all boarded up with wooden planks and metal reinforcements

Vander’s number: 135 714 (from the canon scene)

Silco’s number: 132 219 (loosely interpreted from the very grainy image in the artbook)

I think it's safe to say that they started devising their vision of Zaun in the mines, with comprehensive plans for the nation that include maps and diagrams, a flag with a logo, and many long pages of writing. I'm guessing they were living here for a while, judging by the flask, the kettle, the paper bag that looks like the kind used to carry food, and the clothes hung up on the wall. The furniture is an interesting detail; I'm struggling to imagine that they got away with dragging all of that furniture down to the mines, which makes me wonder if it was there before. Perhaps it used to be someone's office down there? Or some kind of bunker/storm shelter? I have no clear answer for this so I guess it's entirely up to the imagination.

Then at some point, they got out of the mines and began a smuggling operation to make money. I assume this is the era Vi was talking about when she said the break-in was "the kind of job Vander would've pulled when he was [their] age". I'm not sure exactly how reliable this statement is, or whether it even really tells us anything; Vander could've snuck away from the mines to steal from topside when he was a teenager, before he had even developed the goal of an independent nation, or Vi could've heard rumours about Vander's past that weren't entirely accurate. Still, it's the best we have to go on, and if we assume this references Vander and Silco's smuggling operation, it would imply that they started relatively young. In my opinion, 16-year-old Vi saying "our age" could imply anywhere from about 15-18 realistically, and that gives us a maximum of about a decade between the start of their smuggling ventures and The Last Drop opening. We also have to factor in Silco being 2-3 years younger, which means I'm more inclined to assume Vander was an older teen, if not already in his 20s (unless we're meant to assume they were just extremely young when they started all this, but I think that's unlikely, given they already look like adults while still working in the mines). For the sake of the timeline, we'll say they started their smuggling operation somewhere between the late 950s and early 960s AN.

We also don't know for sure when the Lanes were actually built; whether they started with The Last Drop and built everything around it, or built the Lanes and opened The Last Drop as a finishing touch of sorts. Felicia's lines in the flashback - "You two are going to figure this Zaun thing out. I don't care if you have to carve it out of the bedrock covered in blisters." - definitely make it sound like The Last Drop was built first, and everything else followed. Amanda Overton also specified that the smuggling operation helped Vander and Silco make money, so it seems like they were selling their stolen goods (to topsiders?) and running a back-alley black market operation until they had enough to actually start building.

There were about 10-11 years between the opening of The Last Drop and the estrangement of Silco from his allies, which they spent building the Lanes. I was initially thinking this sounded insane, but from this Reddit thread, I gathered that it's actually a fairly reasonable timeline - especially if we assume that they had others helping them with the physical construction, which I'm certain they would've. One of the commenters in the thread brought up the city of Brasilia, which was a planned city built over the span of about 3.5 years. It has a total federal district area of 5,802km^2 built by about 60,000 people (not sure exactly how much of that area was actually built up; the Demographia World Urban Areas Report 2023 counts a total urban area of 963km^2, similar to the size of Buffalo NY).

There's another post I found by a Redditor who calculated the area and population of Piltover and Zaun using the height of streetlamps as a reference. These totals came out to 5.30km^2 (~100,000 population) and 4.12km^2 (~400,000 population) for Zaun. This was calculated under the assumption that Zaun and Piltover each covered one region on either side of the bridge, so the sizes might differ under the model with Zaun being mostly underneath. However, in this case, the Entresol level alone would be even smaller than 4.12km^2, so the task sounds overall very manageable. Worth noting that I think it's unlikely that Zaun was a precisely planned city like Brasilia was, and more likely that they built up the city around themselves, in response to the growing population and demands for facilities. Although we do see very thorough-looking diagrams on the walls of Vander and Silco's hideout, so I suppose you could reasonably assume any degree of planning.

In canon, we do see some glimpses into the post-Last Drop era through the sequence of Warwick/Vander's memories in S1E6. Here are all the memories we see, in order:

Vander and Silco in the mines

Silco sitting at a bar with a book open in his hands

The flashback from S2E5 with Felicia, Silco and Vander toasting in the bar

Young Vander and Benzo leaning over a counter; both look to be around the same age as they were in Act 1, maybe slightly younger

Felicia pregnant with Powder, and a man (presumably Connol) holding child Vi

Powder, Vi, Mylo and Claggor all standing in a group with their backs turned

Vi sparring with Vander, starting around the age she was in Act 1 and then morphing into her younger child self

Felicia and Connol come home with their mining hats and gloves, and Vi and Powder get excited to see them

Vi tries on the mining glove Felicia gives her

Felicia and Powder cook together

Felicia cuts Vi's hair

Felicia, Powder and Vi chase each other around a post

Felicia measures Vi's height

These being Vander's memories, it seems like the kids had a much more resonant impact on him at the time than Silco or the fight for independence did. This explains a lot with regards to the difference in ideologies that eventually divided Vander and Silco. We also see that Felicia and Connol were still working in the mines when the kids were young, implying that Silco and Vander did not shut down mining operations (perhaps they cleaned it up so the work was less dangerous?). The logo for the Nation of Zaun that we see on the flag & on Silco's notebook doesn't come up ever again, and seems to be absent from the modern timeline.

I'm guessing the focus during this period was on the physical construction of the Lanes, and accumulating more and more capital to distribute among the people of the underground. It definitely seems like they were intending to go to war for their independence, judging by Vander's assumption in S1E3 that Silco wanted to use Shimmer to start a war - as well as Vander telling Vi that he "was angry" when he was younger and wanted to fight for change (S1E2). The flag/logo in their hideout was presumably something they planned to fly once they had achieved an independent Nation of Zaun.

They never did end up engaging in a full-on war though, based on various context clues and dialogue exchanges implying that a) Vander and Silco's revolution was never successful, and b) war between Piltover and Zaun is only hypothetical, rather than something that has happened once before. Vander also indicates that the Day of Ash was a one-off incident ("we crossed that bridge once before" in S1E2), which is consistent with how peaceful his early memories are. I presume they wanted to focus on establishing Zaun as a thriving community first before escalating the issue with Piltover; they couldn't exactly fight for independence if there was no nation to fight for in the first place. They most likely didn't have the numbers to form an actual army either, especially not with the Lanes alone.

Eventually, Vander and Silco incited the bridge riot as what was meant to be the start of a bigger revolution, "thinking things could change". The riot was a massive failure for Zaun, and most of the fighters ended up dead. Vander decided that he had too much to lose and attempted to drown Silco to end the cycle of violence. I tend to assume this happened before Vander picked up the kids, but if you want to stay as loyal as possible to the creators' comments, I think this is a very plausible theory that explains the weird timeline and visual continuity errors.

~~~

Part 3.4: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Aftermath of S&V)

Bonus section to discuss my thoughts on what exactly happened to Silco after the Day of Ash; most of this is conjecture rather than fact.

It's pretty obvious what Vander got up to after the drowning attempt. He made a deal with Grayson to keep Zaunites off of Piltover's streets in return for peace. Much of the infrastructure in The Lanes was built during Vander and Silco's era, but I imagine construction continued into this era as well. However, any progress towards independence stagnated under Vander's leadership.

As for Silco, it seems most likely that he met up with Singed pretty soon after the betrayal. There seems to be a distinct lack of trust between them - Singed hasn't told Silco what his true motivations are, per him vaguely telling Silco "I, too, once had a daughter" (S1E8), and Silco tells Jinx that "you're the only one I can trust with this" when she suggests that he give the Hex crystal to Singed instead (S1E5). Thus, I'm inclined to believe it's a purely practical partnership, unlike Silco's relationship with Vander which was much more personal.

Silco's intention with Shimmer, as he tells Vander, was to mass-produce it at such a scale that it would scare Piltover out of entering the Lanes (many of the wiki pages say he wanted to start a war with Shimmer-enhanced soldiers, but he outright tells Vander that this is not the case). It could be that he wanted a bargaining chip too, given that "discontinue the production of Shimmer" was one of Jayce's conditions for independence in S1E9. So, Silco and Singed joined forces at some point to mass-produce Shimmer, Silco used a variant in the meantime to keep his eye infection at bay, and that brings us to the canon timeline.

I want to look a little bit into Singed and his past, as I'm very curious to know where Silco's vision fits in with Singed's motivations. We don't know exactly how much of Dr. Reveck/Orianna's story translates into Arcane, but we do know the following:

Singed was Dr. Reveck, a "revered academy alchemist" in Piltover. His work was "unparalleled", but he was dismissed from the academy with "no mention of his crime" (from Caitlyn; S2E5).

Everything he's done since his dismissal was to cure his daughter. This included the creation of Shimmer, which he did using Rio (the giant purple creature in the cave) as a vessel through which to sustain the regenerative mutation he wanted to harness. When questioned by Ambessa, he says that he's trying to cure "death".

He runs his operations out of the cave in Zaun where Rio is kept. Viktor worked with him briefly as a child, but became horrified by the sight of Rio connected to a series of wires and clearly in pain, so he left. Later, he is seen working out of several locations that all look slightly different (the place where Warwick is created, and Silco's first office under the river), so either the cave is massive with many rooms, or he has several different HQs for his experiments.

Singed uses Chemtech and Shimmer for all his experiments, often a combination of the two. It seems like Chemtech has the potential to sustain life, and Shimmer has the potential to enhance it.

In comparison, these are the main details of Orianna's origin story in League of Legends:

Corin Reveck was famous for making artificial limbs with intricate brass designs.

His daughter, Orianna, was his apprentice. She was adventurous and inquisitive, and wanted to explore the world outside of Piltover, but Dr. Reveck told her it was too dangerous.

An explosion in Zaun ruptured a chemical line and released clouds of poisonous gas. Orianna wanted to help the victims, but Dr. Reveck wouldn’t let her.

Orianna snuck away at night and helped fix the damage, repairing respirators and installing esophilters (described on the wiki as “a Chemtech augmentation that allows people to breathe noxious fumes safely”). She offered her own mask to a child who was struggling to breathe.

After returning to Piltover, Orianna became terminally ill, lungs ravaged by the toxic fumes. Dr. Reveck built her a new set of lungs, and as the poison spread throughout her body, he continued to build new implants and prosthetics for her until most of her body was mechanical.

The process cost Dr. Reveck his entire fortune, which forced them to relocate to Zaun.

Eventually Dr. Reveck fell ill, and she gave up her last remaining human organ for him - her heart.

There are obvious changes that would have to be made to this story to fit with Arcane lore. For example, Singed was already living in Zaun by the time he met up with Viktor, well before Orianna was revived. It also doesn't seem like he built her "piece by piece" as stated in the original story, instead keeping her alive and unconscious until he was certain he could save her. However, I think a lot of these details can be integrated with Arcane lore, and I have some ideas about exactly where it fits in.

As with all things, I want to figure out a timeline first before anything else. This is what we know so far:

Late 950s-960s AN: Silco and Vander start their smuggling operation with the goal of establishing the Lanes

961 AN: Viktor is born

967 AN: The Last Drop is opened

978 AN: Silco is betrayed by Vander

983 AN: Silco and Singed are working together by this point

I found no information on how old Viktor was when he met Singed, so I'm going to estimate around 12-13 judging by his appearance and voice. This would mean they met around 973-974 AN, which matches up with the timeline, given that Zaun looks quite built-up where we see other children playing (although I'm pretty sure this takes place on the Promenade level? Since it seems to be in direct sunlight). It seems like Singed is a fair way into his venture when Viktor runs into him; he's managed to cultivate the mutation he is looking for, and he has a laboratory of sorts that he operates inside the cave, with a vast array of potions, many different vats and test tubes with mutilated animals inside, and a network of pipes and wires that power his equipment. From this, I presume he's been at it for at least a few years.

With this timeline, Orianna would have fallen ill somewhere in the late 960s, right at the height of Vander and Silco's golden age when they were still building the Lanes. An explosion that ruptured a chemical line is an extremely plausible event to happen during this era, for any number of reasons; a riot in the underground, Enforcers trying to halt the construction of Zaun, explosions used to clear rocks so they had a clear path to build, etc etc. It could've been any number of things. Orianna went down there, against her father's orders, and her lungs were ravaged by the gas. Singed started to focus his research on keeping Orianna's condition stable and devising a cure by testing on animals. His unethical activities were discovered, and he was kicked out of the academy in the early 970s for his experiments. He permanently relocated to Zaun.

Sometime after Silco was betrayed, he and Singed met. I am quite confident that Silco was the one to approach Singed, and my primary justification for this comes from Singed's conversation with Viktor in S1E7. Viktor tries to pretend that he wants to use Shimmer on plants, and Singed expresses that he knows what Viktor is really there for, by saying "I know the look of a doomed man". I am convinced that he is talking about Silco here. From what we see of Singed's past before meeting Silco, he had only experimented on animals, and the only human involved before Viktor was his daughter. None of that would justify him "know[ing] the look of a doomed man". I don't think he's talking about himself either, since his injuries don't appear to be fatal and we never see him using himself as a test subject.

So I think Silco somehow found out about his operations and came to him seeking help after the betrayal. Silco had no power without Vander - all their friends/allies that we know of were either dead (Felicia and Connol) or took Vander's side (Benzo and Sevika) - and after being exposed to the toxins in the Pilt, he definitely would have been at risk for a much worse infection if left untreated. He was already taking his injections when we first see him in canon, and it actually looks like Singed might have even performed surgery of some kind on Silco, given that he has both eyelids in the actual drowning scene but one of them is missing later on.

This also helps explain what Singed was getting out of the deal, since Silco couldn't offer him anything tangible at the time; he essentially acted as Singed's first human test subject for a cure. We don't know if Silco's early injections involved Shimmer though, or if he was using some other temporary cure (Chemtech?) that Singed came up with for him before Shimmer had been perfected. Singed mentions to Viktor that he has several different variants of Shimmer, and he was already working on it for at least a little while before Silco came to him, so I'm assuming it was probably one of these variants. If that's the case, I'd guess that Silco is using a stronger dosage after the timeskip, since he responds to it differently (in S1E1 he injects it very calmly with no visible reaction at all, while later on in the series, his body seizes up and he looks to be in pain).

I'm interested in what comes after that, too. I could absolutely understand Singed agreeing to help Silco out after the betrayal, since Silco is in a similar position to Viktor at that point, and a very valuable tool in Singed's research. What I'm curious about is why Singed then agrees to mass-produce Shimmer and "flood the lanes" with it, as it's often described. These are the two explanations I came up with:

Singed wanted to explore the effects of Shimmer on the "average person", so to speak. Flooding the Lanes with Shimmer means putting it in the hands of anyone and everyone, which means ample test subjects for Singed to observe and learn from. The main issue I can think of with this theory is that Singed does all of his research from inside his lab, and one of the key things he notes about himself is that he's a loner, so it doesn't seem like he was going out there and doing field research. There could have been ways for him to learn from afar, though.

Silco offered to make Singed rich. Silco knew Shimmer could turn the tides back in his favour, and he could have tempted Singed to join him with the promise of everything they could eventually have. Early in Season 1, they share an office space underwater, and they have many giant factories with regular shipments in and out of Piltover after the timeskip. We can only assume that both of them became wealthy from this, with Singed making enough money to continue his research, and Silco making enough to build the version of the underground that he always envisioned.

And finally, I want to jump back to the aforementioned discussions about Chemtech, because something is still bugging me about it. If Chemtech existed before Hextech, and it's supposed to be this brilliant but toxic formula at the heart of Zaun's inventions, why didn't they ever weaponise it against Piltover? We know that Jinx uses Chemtech for her bombs, and Renni is seen using a chainsaw powered by Chemtech - and we also know that Silco and Vander both wanted to fight Piltover. So if Chemtech is a power source exclusive to Zaun, why didn't they mass-produce Chemtech weapons or release toxic gases into the streets of Piltover as part of their fight for independence? And after the timeskip, when Silco is working on his own, why did he focus on the production of Shimmer when Chemtech already existed?

By the time we catch up with everyone in canon in S1E1, Chemtech is very widespread. It looks like the Undercity is essentially built on it, with green lights everywhere and massive structures powered entirely by chemicals. I think it's reasonable to assume that Vander and Silco were the ones who facilitated the widespread use of Chemtech. This would fill in a lot of the gaps with regards to the precise timeline of Chemtech usage; it could have been something they once used sparingly, for things like mining equipment and light sources, but when Silco and Vander built the Undercity, it became a staple of Zaunite infrastructure. Since there was a long period over which they were smuggling goods out of Piltover and preparing to start building their nation, they could have also used that time to start developing Chemtech. I'm guessing they would've recruited someone to do this for them, since neither Vander nor Silco seem to have a knack for invention.

This leaves me with three theories with regards to the potential for Chemtech to become a weapon:

Theory 1 - They did try to use it against Piltover, but their attempts were always unsuccessful (e.g. the Day of Ash riot).

This one is pretty self-explanatory. They tried to use Chemtech weapons against Piltover, but the Enforcers were just too powerful. There are two main issues with this theory; the first being that we don't know how exactly the Enforcers would have overpowered them without Hextech, and the second being that, when we see Silco and Vander on the bridge during that riot, there's no sign of Chemtech's trademark green. Silco has a very standard-looking Molotov cocktail that produces orange flames, and Vander uses his mining gloves to beat up the Enforcers using brute force. I suppose the Molotov could have been filled with chemicals, so it's still an option.

Theory 2 - Chemtech isn't powerful enough on its own.

I believe this is the most plausible theory of the three. Chemtech is an energy source, good for powering things like light sources and machinery, but in itself, we don't actually see any evidence to suggest that it's useful on a larger scale. Powder's bombs don't work when she's younger, despite being powered by Chemtech - and even then, Chemtech is never the main feature anyway, with her bombs either being smoke-powered or filled with nails. In S1E4, Councilor Hoskel describes Zaun's "ingenuity over the years", with specific mentions of "Shimmer" and "body replacements"; I would assume, if Zaun really was capable of making deadly weapons with Chemtech, he would have mentioned that as well. Chemtech does appear to be the sole power source behind Renni's chainsaw, but mass-producing chainsaws as a war weapon is not the most practical nor smart strategy. Chemtech just isn't effective enough to make weapons that can be used to fight Piltover with, or on a large enough scale to put them in the hands of average Zaunites.

A major point in favour of this theory is the fact that no one in the Undercity seems to have guns except Jinx, which I find really interesting. During the bridge riot, all of the Enforcers are armed with guns, while Vander fights with his fists, and Silco fights with the aforementioned Molotov cocktail. Later, we see that Sevika and Vi also fight with their fists, and the Firelights use hoverboards and spears. Vander has a dagger which Silco later uses as his own melee weapon of choice. So why does no one in Zaun have guns? Surely Jinx can't be the only person who's ever thought to make her own? The answer has to be that they don't have access to them; either the money to buy them or the materials to make them. The Enforcers are always armed with them, and families like the Kirammans are known to hunt recreationally, which seems to demonstrate that guns are a mark of wealth and status. Jinx is only able to make hers once she's living with Silco, who could easily source the supplies for her.

Theory 3 - They did manage to successfully weaponise Chemtech against Piltover, but Piltover was able to harness the chemicals for themselves before Zaun could take advantage of it.

We know in canon that Silco's goal was to use Shimmer as something powerful enough to scare Piltover off their streets. I think it could be interesting if this was initially the plan for Chemtech, but the council caught wind of this dangerous invention, and commissioned the academy to work on a solution - just like Silco does with Jinx when Hextech becomes an issue. Piltover created Chemtech weapons of their own, so that Zaun would no longer have a technological advantage.

This is where Singed comes in. I think it could be interesting if Singed was the alchemist recruited to work on Chemtech; perhaps even Heimerdinger too, given that Singed mentions them having worked together. Singed managed to extract the chemicals used for Chemtech and create defensive measures against it for Piltover, thus explaining why he had such a good handle on it when he transferred his operations to Zaun. Either he managed to safely extract it, and it was subsequently used for smaller inventions in Piltover (thus explaining the green lamp and the pneuma tube gas in Grayson's office), or he made weapons that were just as toxic and dangerous as those in Zaun, which had to be locked away in case of absolute emergency (this would make sense if we assume Heimerdinger had a part in it; there's no way he would let them use it freely). This theory also explains why Singed would be especially cautious about letting Orianna visit the underground, if he was working with Chemtech himself at the time and knew how dangerous it could be.

Here's my proposal for a rough timeline, using this theory:

Late 950s-960s AN: Silco and Vander start their smuggling operation with the goal of establishing the Lanes.

Early 960s AN: Chemical compounds are smuggled out of the mines, and a group of rebels start using it to develop new inventions, per Silco and Vander's plan.

967 AN: The Last Drop is opened; Vander and Silco start actually building the Lanes. Piltover catches wind of the construction and tries to send Enforcers down there to stop them, but they use newly-forged Chemtech weapons to keep them out. Enforcers are ordered by the council to stay out of the underground due to the danger. Singed (and possibly Heimerdinger) starts working with the compounds mined for Chemtech to develop stronger defensive measures.

Late 960s AN: During construction of the Lanes, something goes wrong that results in the release of toxic gases from Chemtech (a "ruptured chemical line", according to Orianna's League lore story). Singed is the first in Piltover to learn about it, and Orianna overhears. He warns her not to go down there; she does not listen. She goes to help the victims, and falls gravely ill. Singed continues his Chemtech research as authorised, but starts a side project using the chemicals to develop a cure, with a giant vat of liquid to keep her alive in the meantime.

Early 970s AN: Singed's unethical experiments are discovered, and he is booted out of the academy and stripped of his status. He permanently relocates to Zaun.

978 AN: The Day of Ash; Vander and Silco lead an army across the bridge, Enforcers fight back, disaster strikes. It's the first fight for which Piltover brings out the locked-away Chemtech weapons, which is what makes it so explosive (we see Enforcers' guns explode on impact in S1E1, which they don't seem to do any other time).

978 AN (cont'd): Silco finds out about Singed's research somehow and they meet up. Silco knows that Chemtech is no longer an advantage for the Undercity, so he seeks a new solution. Meanwhile, Vander makes his deal with Grayson, and Chemtech weapons on both sides are destroyed.

983 AN: Singed tests his newest Shimmer variant on a rat. He determines that it's now adequate for a human to drink.

This theory does have a few minor holes - Hoskel's line in S1E4 again being one of them, as well as the fact that Silco doesn't consider the possibility of weaponising Hextech until after Jinx steals the crystal - but I find it to be the most intriguing, and could be a compelling way of tying all these stories together.

~~~

Part 4: Wrap-Up

PHEW. We've finally reached the Sump. If you read this entire post, congrats on making it all the way down here! This was over 12k words total so certainly a behemoth to get through; thank you so much for sticking with me <3

I wanted to include one final summary of the timeline, colour-coded to indicate where all this information comes from. I’ve used blue to indicate origins in League of Legends lore, green to indicate Arcane lore (according to the wiki), and red to indicate that I extrapolated the dates myself. In case anyone has trouble distinguishing red and green, I’ve also included an asterisk (*) next to all the reds.

6000-5000 BN: Westward Migration. Humans began to migrate towards the Shuriman Continent. One of the new cities founded was a sea port called Oshra Va’Zaun.

2000-3 BN: Various Wars. Several wars happened during this time; Janna protected Oshra Va’Zaun from every conflict.

676 AN: Heimerdinger is born. He is 307 (Act 1) / 314 (Act 2).

772 AN: The Collapse. The people of Oshra Va’Zaun attempted to crack open an area of the land using Chemtech bombs. The bombs triggered a series of earthquakes that destroyed the isthmus.

790 AN: Piltover is Established. The ruins of Oshra Va’Zaun underwent extensive reconstruction, and the new city of Piltover was built over the Pilt River.

940 AN: Vander is born. He is 43 / 50.

*943 AN: Silco is born. He is 40 / 47.

*Late 950s-Early 960s AN: Smuggling begins. Vander and Silco start their smuggling operation.

959 AN: Jayce is born. He is 24 / 31.

961 AN: Viktor is born. He is 22 / 29.

966 AN: Caitlyn is born. She is 17 / 24.

966-67 AN: Felicia-Vander-Silco scene. A milestone of Zaun's development is celebrated in The Last Drop.

967 AN: Vi is born. She is 16 / 23.

972 AN: Jinx is born. She is 11 / 18.

*978 AN: Silco is betrayed. Beginning of Vander's solo reign and an armistice between Piltover and Zaun.

983 AN: Events of Season 1 Act 1. The Kiramman warehouse is raided, Hextech is invented, and Powder accidentally kills most of her family.

990 AN: Events of Season 1 Act 2. The main Arcane timeline starts here.

I cannot emphasise enough that I put this all together on my own with zero knowledge of League lore going into it, so there are bound to be gaps and inaccuracies somewhere along the way. This is by no means intended as the be-all and end-all of Arcane lore guides, but hopefully there are things in here that someone else will find helpful!

Good luck with your fanworks ventures :-)

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“The Butcher and The Wolf”pt.2

Commander Wolffe x Princess Reader

R4 trilled while plugging data‑spikes into the sleek shuttle’s nav‑computer; TC polished the boarding ramp as though senators would rate its shine. Inside, [Y/N] sealed a crate of festival gifts—kyber‑laced lanterns, citrus‑spiced tihaar—when the hangar doors parted.

In strode Master Plo Coon and Kenobi, with his most innocent smile. Behind them Commander Cody and an impeccably straight‑backed Commander Wolffe.

Kenobi surveyed the scene, eyes twinkling. “My lady, I trust Coruscant treated you… memorably?”

Plo’s mask inclined. “Yes, I understand you’ve already formed a—shall we say—effective working rapport with our best security personnel.”

TC’s head swiveled. “If you refer to last night’s flawless briefing, Masters, I assure you my presentation notes were—”

“—copied from my schematics,” R4 beeped smugly.

Kenobi chuckled. “Quite. Though some reports suggest the princess herself gathered more… field intelligence than anticipated.”

Wolffe’s helmet visor dipped a millimeter; only Cody saw the pained grimace. He murmured, “Steady, vod, you’ve faced droid armies—Jedi teasing won’t kill you.”

[Y/N] kept a serene smile. “Coruscant was enlightening, Master Kenobi. Your commanders are… thorough.”

“Thorough,” Kenobi echoed, barely suppressing a grin. “An admirable quality.”

Plo produced a data‑chip. “Your Highness, these are revised escort protocols for the festival. The Council looks forward to cooperating.”

Cody added, “Wolfpack leads the clone detachment. We’ll rendezvous in orbit over Karthuna.” He patted Wolffe’s pauldron. “Commander is eager to ensure everything runs smoothly.”

Wolffe managed, “Honored to serve, Princess.” Translation: please let the floor swallow me.

R4 gave a warbling laugh. TC translated dryly, “R4 suggests the commander already has extensive knowledge of our customs—particularly nightlife.”

Kenobi coughed into his sleeve; even Plo’s mask seemed to smile.

[Y/N] ascended the ramp, pausing beside Wolffe. Low enough for only him: “Try not to judge anyone before second breakfast, Commander.”

He answered just as quietly, “Next time, title first, drinks second.”

Her wink was pure mischief. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With diplomatic farewells exchanged, the Jedi departed, Cody dragging a still‑smirking Kenobi. Wolffe lingered as engines warmed, visor reflecting the princess who had upended his meticulously ordered world.

R4’s hatch closed, TC waved primly, and the shuttle lifted skyward—toward open borders, a five‑day festival, and a reunion sure to test the Wolf’s composure more than any battlefield.

⸻

Commander Wolffe had survived orbital bombardments, trench sieges, and General Grievous’s cackling—but nothing tested endurance like the embassy’s protocol droid at full lecture speed.

TC strode the aisle between jump‑seats where Wolffe, Boost, and Sinker buckled in.

“…and the Festival of Dawning begins with a kuur‑vaan procession. That translates roughly as ‘dance of a thousand sparks,’ involving micro‑kyber filaments that ignite in sequence—quite breathtaking, provided you wear appropriate eye shielding. Now, the correct greeting is ‘Gal’shara’ with palms outward—never inward, or you imply the listener lacks honor. Also, avoid offering your left hand—historically used for bloodletting rituals dating back—”

Sinker slumped. “Commander, permission to eject myself through the air‑lock.”

Boost whispered, “Could be worse—could be a Senate speech.”

TC continued, undeterred. “—and if you’re offered sapphire tihaar, remember it’s an apology drink, not casual refreshment. Accepting without cause is tantamount to admitting fault. Speaking of fault, did you know the northern fault‑line—”

Wolffe pinched the bridge of his nose. “Droid, compile this in a datapad. My men will study quietly.”

“Oh, certainly, Commander. I have already prepared a 312‑page primer, complete with holo‑graphs.”

Sinker mouthed three‑hundred‑twelve?! Boost mimed choking.

⸻

[Y/N] sat cross‑legged in her cabin, R4 projecting a secure blue holo of King Talren—silver‑bearded, stern eyes softened only for his daughter.

“Little Dawn,” he greeted, using her childhood nickname, “I won’t waste time. Loyalist scouts uncovered three insurgent cells. Extremists insist reopening our borders is betrayal; some whisper of Separatist aid.”

A map flared beside him—red sigils in mountain passes.

“I need those cells silenced before the festival opens,” the king said. “You know the terrain. Take whatever force is required, but keep off‑worlders uninvolved. This must look like an internal matter.”

[Y/N] bowed her head. “It will be done, Father.”

The holo faded. R4 beeped a query.

“Prep infiltration loadouts,” she answered. “Low‑flash sabers, sonic mines, and two squads of Shadow Guard on standby. We strike first nightfall.”

R4 warbled approval, projecting tactical overlays. She added waypoints, carving silent routes Wolffe’s clones would never notice.

⸻

Later, passing Wolffe in the corridor, [Y/N] offered a casual nod. He paused, as if sensing undercurrents, but protocol kept him silent.

Behind him TC called, “Commander, I neglected to mention Karthunese dining order—if the Princess serves you last, it’s actually a sign of high esteem—”

Wolffe muttered a prayer for battlefield blasterfire to drown out etiquette lessons.

In her quarters, [Y/N] traced insurgent sigils on the holo with a gloved fingertip, resolve hardening. Opening Karthuna’s doors to the galaxy meant showing strength the old way—quiet, decisive, unseen.

And if the Wolf and his troopers never learned how the festival stayed peaceful, all the better.

⸻

The twin suns of Karthuna cast copper light over the obsidian‑paved sky‑dock as the Republic cruiser settled with a hiss of repulsors. King Talren stood flanked by honor guards whose sun‑metal armor threw brilliant flares into the air. Behind him waited the planetary senator, Senator Vessar, and the ever‑skeptical Governor of Interior Works, Governor Rhun.

The ramp dropped. Out strode Masters Plo Coon and Kenobi, Chancellor Palpatine in ceremonial crimson, a cluster of senators, and the clone detachment led by Commanders Cody and Wolffe flanked by Boost and Sinker.

Talren bowed with a warrior’s economy. “Karthuna welcomes the Republic. May the Force greet you as friend and guest.”

A respectful murmur answered. Yet even before introductions concluded, his daughter slipped to his side, murmured, “Urgent Shadow Guard matter, Father,” and—still in civilian vest and braid—beelined for a sand‑silver speeder.

Wolffe’s visor tracked her, but protocol held him. Engines howled; the speeder vanished down a cliff‑side lift‑tube toward the high passes.

Talren inhaled—the first lie ready on his tongue.

⸻

Kenobi stepped forward, large smile in place. “Your Majesty, we look forward to your famous Festival of Dawning.”

“As do we all,” Talren replied, steering the party toward the citadel’s balcony overlooking the festival valley—far from launch bays or military comms.

Chancellor Palpatine clasped gloved hands. “Your daughter leads the festivities, does she not? I had hoped to congratulate her.”

“She prepares a…surprise presentation,” Talren said smoothly. “Artists’ temperaments, Chancellor.”

Governor Rhun muttered just loud enough, “More like a warrior itching for mischief.”

Senator Vessar chimed in, tone dripping dry humor, “I assure our off‑world partners the princess habitually vanishes moments before debuting something spectacular—or spectacularly dangerous.”

Talren fixed them both with a steel‑edged smile that promised discussion later.

Plo Coon shifted his weight, Kel‑Dor mask unreadable. “Your Highness, Clone Commander Wolffe will require coordination with your security captain.”

“Of course.” Talren gestured toward the fortress doors. “Commander, my staff will relay schematics over luncheon. Meanwhile, allow me to show the Chancellor our kyber‑terraced gardens—quite safe, I assure you.”

Wolffe’s unspoken protest died behind the visor; duty bound, he followed Cody toward a briefing alcove where TC awaited with yet another data‑slab. Talren breathed easier: one crisis delayed, if not averted.

As the king guided the diplomats through colonnades, Governor Rhun leaned in: “You risk interstellar incident if the princess sparks bloodshed while the Republic picnics outside our walls.”

Talren’s voice stayed velvet, danger beneath. “Better insurgent blood in the mountains than senator blood in the streets.”

Senator Vessar added, half‑teasing, “If she returns with soot on her boots, I shall schedule extra press holos to reframe it as heroic cultural demonstration.”

Kenobi caught the whisper, grin curving. “Your court seems…spirited, Majesty.”

Talren allowed the tiniest exhale of amusement. “Karthuna has waited fifteen years to step back onto the galactic stage, General. We intend to give a performance worth the ticket.”

Above them, fireworks crews tested micro‑sparklers; bright hisses masked the distant roar of a speeder blazing toward insurgent territory.

In a quiet moment against the balcony rail, Talren gazed over valley tents blooming for festival week, mind split between choreography of diplomats and the razor‑work his daughter undertook beyond those peaks.

He whispered to the wind, “Return swift, Little Dawn.”

⸻

By mid‑afternoon the princess was still missing.

Commander Wolffe stood on the citadel parapet overlooking the valley’s bustling festival city, visor fixed on the distant scar of mountains her speeder had taken.

Local Sun‑Guard Captain Arven stepped up, spearhaft tapping stone.

“Enjoying the view, off‑worlder?”

“I’d enjoy it more if your crown heir were within com‑range,” Wolffe replied. “Transmit her last coordinates.”

“Princess has classified authority.”

Wolffe’s servo‑joint clicked as his gauntlet clenched. “My mandate is to protect every Republic dignitary on this rock—including her.”

Arven smirked. “Karthuna protected itself centuries before troopers in white armor needed it. Stand down, Commander.”

Cody’s voice crackled through Wolffe’s comlink: “Easy, vod. Diplomacy first.”

Wolffe never took his eye from the peaks. Diplomacy ends when the VIP bleeds, he thought—and weighed the odds of “borrowing” a gunship.

New LAATs screamed in, disgorging Jedi and clones.

Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano with the 501st, assigned to guard Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo and a cadre of Core‑World legislators.

Masters Mace Windu and Ki‑Adi‑Mundi arrived with Commanders Ponds and Bacara respectively, doubling ground strength.

Skywalker clapped Wolffe’s pauldron. “Heard your princess pulled a disappearing act—sounds like my kind of trouble.”

“Not helping, General,” Wolffe growled, though Ahsoka’s sympathetic grin eased his temper a notch.

Senators debarked in a flurry of aides, holo‑recorders, and fashion impractical for mountain air. Festival staff hustled to reroute them toward reception halls—distraction, Talren hoped, until his daughter returned.

Master Yoda, leaning on his gimer stick, sought King Talren atop a sun‑warmed terrace strewn with kyber wind‑chimes. The diminutive Jedi regarded the monarch’s sun‑metal cuirass and the twin‑bladed saber at his hip.

“Strong in the Force, your people are,” Yoda began. “Yet light and dark you name not. Curious, this is.”

Talren inclined his head. “Master, on Karthuna we are taught: there is no dawn without night. Deny darkness, and daylight loses meaning. Balance is not the absence of shadow, but its harmony with light.”

“Hmmm.” Yoda’s ears twitched thoughtfully. “Unnatural, you say, to void one side?”

“As unnatural as silencing half a heartbeat,” Talren answered. “We do not fear the shadow; we fear imbalance.”

Wind‑chimes chimed like distant sabers. Yoda closed his eyes, absorbing the resonance.

“Much to learn, even I have,” he murmured. “And much to guard, we both must.”

Talren’s gaze drifted to the mountains. “Agreed, Master Yoda. Balance must sometimes be defended by hidden blades.”

⸻

Sunset torched the valley when a sand‑silver speeder roared through the citadel gates. Clone guards scrambled aside as [Y/N] leapt off, still in dust‑streaked vest and combat shorts. She vaulted a barricade, sprinting for the grand foyer.

“Hey—civilian access is restricted!” bellowed Commander Fox, Crimson Guard staff lowered across her path.

She halted, breath steady despite the climb. “I live here, thanks.”

Before Fox could run ID, Chancellor Palpatine emerged from a delegation knot, eyes narrowing with fox‑like curiosity.

“My dear, racing through secure halls in such…practical attire—is something amiss?”

[Y/N] offered a flawless court bow that contrasted sharply with her grime‑spattered boots. “Merely last‑minute festival preparations, Chancellor. Please excuse me; I must dress for the gala.”

Palpatine’s smile sliced thin. “Ah, duty never rests. I look forward to your presentation this evening.”

Fox straightened as realization dawned. “Wait—you’re—”

She winked. “Classified, Commander.” Then slipped past, leaving red armor and red robes equally bemused.

In her chamber, TC fussed with brocade gowns while R4 powered a sonic shower.

“Your Highness, the schedule is punishing: welcome gala at nineteen‑hundred, holo‑address at twenty‑two, and saber exhibition by dawn.”

“Then we’d better look lethal and lovely,” [Y/N] said, toweling off. She chose a floor‑length gown of midnight silk that clung to sculpted muscle, high slits revealing thigh holsters for compact hilts. Sun‑metal pauldrons mirrored her crown, but the gown’s sleeveless cut displayed the lattice of scars down both arms—plasma burns, shrapnel lines, duelist nicks—each a story she refused to hide.

TC clipped the circlet into her damp hair. “Might I suggest gloves to soften the, ah, impression?”

She flexed scarred fingers. “No. Let the galaxy see what Karthuna’s balance looks like.”

R4 projected her entrance route. She studied it, then smiled. “Time to charm senators, silence rumors, and—perhaps—make a wolf squirm.”

⸻

A fanfare of crystal horns cut through conversation. Doors parted, revealing Princess [Y/N] radiant in midnight silk and sun‑metal crown, scars on her bare arms glinting like silver filigree. Senators gasped—half at the regality, half at the unapologetic battle‑marks.

Master Kenobi murmured to Skywalker, “Grace and menace in equal measure—definitely your type, Anakin.”

Skywalker smirked. “She’d have me for breakfast.”

Padmé Amidala complimented the gown’s craftsmanship; [Y/N] returned praise for Naboo’s relief programs, steering talk away from rumored insurgents.

Master Windu approached her, he attempted to discuss security perimeters; the princess assured him Karthuna’s Shadow Guard had “every shadow covered.”

Across the room, Governor Rhun whispered to holoreporters, stoking stories of her “reckless mountain excursion.” TC hovered, intercepting leading questions with cutting etiquette lessons.

Commander Wolffe, helmet clipped to belt, stood near a terrace arch with Cody and Plo Coon. When [Y/N] approached, conversation faltered like a blaster misfire.

She offered a delicate curtsy—mischief in her eyes. “Commander, I trust the briefing notes were…illuminating?”

“They were extensive,” Wolffe said evenly. “Yet somehow omitted your talent for disappearing.”

“Ah, but every good security test includes an unscheduled drill.” She stepped closer, voice just for him: “You passed—eventually.”

The faintest flush darkened Wolffe’s neck. “Next time give me a comm frequency, not a cliff to chase.”

[Y/N] arched a brow. “And deny you the exercise?” Her fingers brushed the edge of his pauldron as she glided past. “Meet me on the terrace at midnight—strictly business, of course.”

Wolffe exhaled—half growl, half laugh—as Cody elbowed him, grinning. “Careful, vod. That one dances with both halves of the Force.”

Strings struck up Karthuna’s dawn‑waltz. Jedi mingled with diplomats while clone troopers ringed the hall’s perimeter. Suspicion, politics, and bright music braided in the air—yet for a heartbeat, harmony held.

In the high galleries, R4 scanned faces, feeding the princess data on a Separatist envoy concealed among trade delegates—tonight’s real threat.

Midnight loomed, and outside the terrace doors, mountain winds whispered of balance, blades, and a wolf answering a princess’s call.

⸻

Princess [Y/N] leaned against the balustrade, moon‑silver kissing the scars on her shoulders. Commander Wolffe stood close, arms folded—attempt at stoic ruined by her playful tug on the strap of his pauldron.

“Still on duty, Commander?” she teased.

“Always.”

“So devoted,” she murmured, fingers ghosting along the seam where synth‑skin met armor. “Makes a woman wonder how else that focus might—”

A scarlet bolt sizzled through the ballroom windows. Shouts. Glass rained like crystal hail.

Inside, Governor Rhun lay sprawled behind an overturned buffet, cloak smoking at the shoulder. Clone guards returned fire toward upper galleries; a masked shooter vaulted onto a chandelier cable and vanished in a flash‑grenade’s glare.

Skywalker, Ahsoka, Windu ignited sabers; Cody’s troopers fanned out. Wolffe ushered [Y/N] through the shattered doors into the throne corridor, senators scrambling behind.

⸻

Heavy doors slammed. Present: King Talren, Chancellor Palpatine, Masters Yoda, Windu, Kenobi, Commanders Cody, Wolffe, Ponds, Bacara, Senator Padmé, and a handful of shaken delegates. Rhun, arm bacta‑wrapped, was dragged in by medics.

Tension whipped like live wire.

[Y/N] broke the silence, voice flat: “Pity the shooter missed.”

Gasps; Wolffe’s helmet snapped toward her.

Rhun snarled. “Should’ve been you that got shot!”

She advanced, eyes blazing. “I opposed reopening our borders. Tonight proves me right. We invited every power broker in the war to one valley—painted a target the size of a moon.”

King Talren’s tone cut ice. “Peace requires risk.”

“Blind risk courts massacre,” she shot back. “Insurgents in our mountains, Separatist agents in our ballroom—now assassins under our roof.”

Palpatine interjected silkily, “Surely, Princess, the Republic can strengthen your security.”

“More soldiers won’t erase the bull’s‑eye you represent, Chancellor.”

Mace Windu’s gaze narrowed. “You suggest isolation while the galaxy burns?”

“I suggest survival,” she answered.

Arguments flared—senators citing diplomacy, clones citing protocol. Wolffe stepped between factions, voice drill‑sergeant sharp: “Focus. Assassin is still loose. Mandates later, lockdown now.”

Plo Coon, calm amid storm, nodded approval.

King Talren exhaled. “Commander Wolffe, you have joint authority with my Shadow Guard. Hunt the shooter.”

Wolffe met [Y/N]’s gaze—heat of earlier flirtation replaced by razor respect. “Princess—coming?”

She clicked twin sabers to her belt. “Lead the way, Commander.”

Rhun blanched; Padmé exchanged a knowing look with Kenobi—battle partners born.

The moment the throne‑room doors slammed behind them, [Y/N] was already moving—midnight gown gathered in one fist, the other dropping her double sabers into waiting palms.

Wolffe fell in at her shoulder, DC‑17 raised. The marble corridor echoed with their synchronized footfalls.

“Shadow Guard breach tunnel’s this way,” she hissed, sweeping aside a wall‑tapestry to reveal a spiral stair cut straight into obsidian.

He nodded once. “After you, Princess.”

The air grew cooler, alive with a faint crystalline hum. Iridescent kyber veins glowed within the stone, casting violet and jade shadows across their path.

Wolffe switched his helmet lamp to low‑band; [Y/N] didn’t bother—her people’s Force‑attuned sight caught every shimmer.

A blaster scorch on the stair railing.

“Fresh,” she murmured.

“Means we’re close,” Wolffe replied, pulse settling into the calm that preceded battle.

The stair disgorged them into a vast cavern—kyber pillars rising like frozen lightning. At the far end, the assassin’s silhouette leapt between crystal spires, cloak tattered by security bolts.

Wolffe’s comm clicked twice—Boost and Sinker sealing exits above.

“Corner him,” Wolffe ordered.

“Alive,” [Y/N] added. “I want intel before he bleeds out.”

They split wordlessly: Wolffe low along a mineral ridge, [Y/N] sprinting the high ledge, gown whipping behind like a war‑banner.

The assassin spun, twin WESTARs barking scarlet. Wolffe dove, bolts sparking off crystal as [Y/N] sprang from above, sabers igniting.

A vibro‑dagger flicked from the assassin’s wrist—met by Wolffe’s gauntlet, beskad plating deflecting the strike. He slammed the butt of his pistol into the assailant’s ribs.

“Yield,” the commander growled.

A hissed curse the killer smashed a detonator against the pillar. Kyber screamed as fractures spider‑webbed, light flaring.

[Y/N] threw Wolffe back with a Force‑shove and thrust both sabers into the crystal, channeling energy away in a surge of blinding radiance. The explosion muted to a concussive thump; shards rained harmlessly.

When vision cleared, the assassin lay dazed, binders already clamping on under Wolffe’s practiced hands.

“Who hired you?” the princess demanded.

The prisoner spat blood, defiant. “Karthuna’s own who crave true freedom—and the Confederacy rewards such courage.”

Wolffe’s visor tipped toward [Y/N]. Confirmation.

⸻

Governor Rhun’s voice boomed across the ballroom remnant—holocams hovering:

“This outrage proves openness invites anarchy! I petition immediate curfew, martial oversight by local forces, and expulsion of unnecessary off‑world elements!”

Several senators, rattled, murmured agreement. Separatist sympathizers whispered through the crowd, feeding fear.

Master Windu folded his arms. “Governor, the assassin wielded Separatist tech. Cooperation with the Republic, not isolation, thwarts such threats.”

Rhun’s smile was razor‑thin. “Yet my princess would see me dead; perhaps the Council should examine internal loyalties first.”

King Talren’s reply was cut short by the distant rumble of kyber—catacomb fight vibrations reaching high halls. Panic rippled anew.

Wolffe and [Y/N] emerged, armor and gown dusted in crystal powder, prisoner in tow. Gasps rippled through assembled officials.

“Governor Rhun,” [Y/N] announced, voice carrying. “Your assassin failed. And he’s confessed to Separatist backing—backing that feeds on fear you happily sow.”

Rhun’s complexion drained.

Palpatine stepped forward, tone silken. “A grave accusation, Princess. Proof?”

Wolffe activated the assassin’s cracked vambrace: a holo‑sigil of the Techno Union flickered. That, plus recorded confession from his helmet‑cam, filled the air in chilling blue.

Yoda’s ears drooped, sad but certain. “Darkness invited not by borders, but hearts seeking power, yes.”

Arguments flared, but now the tide shifted: senators demanding inquiry into Rhun’s dealings, Jedi reinforcing joint patrols, clones and Sun‑Guard sharing data rather than territory. The assassin was led away.

In the aftershock, [Y/N] turned to Wolffe, adrenaline still bright in her eyes.

“You kept up,” she said softly.

“You lit up half a mountain,” he retorted, relief threading the words.

A grin tugged her lips. “Balance, Commander—little light, little dark.”

His chuckle surprised them both. “Next time, maybe just a dance.”

She offered her arm—scarred, unhidden. He took it, escorting her back into the fractured ballroom where a new balance—uneasy, hard‑won—waited to be forged.

Previous Part

[stolentrekblr]

Trekblr Community Reaction

I have wanted to compile reactions from the community for a while now, and today I finally made it happen. I have not editorialized anything, doing my best to copy reactions as written. Without further ado:

i love accs like this and the people behind them. the dedication to search for stuff like this and bring it home. sounds absolutely maddening and i salute them. to sift through garbage theft accs… doing the lords work

idk if i should feel honored or not, at least my username is there lol. this is very funny to me. like i dont even use facebook anymore

Omg they erased the last sentence. Lmao. I mean if you’re gonna steal my posts at least include the entire thing. It’s literally the least you could do

chat should we kill them?

OMGOD IVE MADE IT!!! this is crazy because i feel like my dad might actually see my star trek posts LMFAO. he's always on there. this is a big moment

I don't have a problem with reposts of my stuff if the watermark/username is included, but I appreciate the spirit of what you're doing

Nice sentiment but i really don't want people on facebook to have a link to my tumblr blog. thank god it's uncredited... been around a while my posts are always being stolen

The person Im thinking of flat out took OC memes from me and passed off my captions as his own. He gave me credit once from what I've seen and then the other times it looks like he made it up himself. I'm all for tossing memes out there and letting them be wild and free, but this guy twists it and uses it to beg for money on his page. He's got the lobes.

Why did they censor my pfp but not my username WHAT

damn. ig im famous now. better start lining up for autographs

People are posting me to Facebook???????

Damn... I'm not even mad about this tbh... someone thought my stupid post was good enough to steal and put on a facebook group 🤣🤣

disgusting

?!?!??!??!??!??!?!!!??!?

You know what I'm ok with Facebook enjoying this one I appreciate it being edited over them

This has never happened to me before

I honestly don’t mind seeing screen shots of my posts showing up elsewhere, it’s inevitable, but the nature of a screenshot shows the source of the post as well as the OP. But this crap is blatant plagiarism. Obviously this person is on tumblr, so I hope they see this. Please do better and have a smidgeon of integrity. Just give credit? It’s really not difficult? Thanks @stolentrekblr for the effort here.

Yooooo this is wild! Glad people like it I guess

This one ALMOST gives credit. But not quite. Could’ve just typed my handle in the post 🤷‍♀️ super easy, barely an inconvenience.

Come on... Just type "credit: *tumblr handle of the OP*" It's so easy not to be a spineless thief.

The watermark 🙄🙄

keep doing your thing op. you're like an archeologist but instead of screaming about how it belongs in a museum you are adamantly making sure people know where these things came from. i can't even fucking imagine the searching you have to do to find these posts. earlier today i couldn't find a post i had seen yesterday. keep it up!

I tracked down a post of mine that you found reposted on the data FB page, and left them a comment. "Hey look, its my post! didn't even crop out my tumblr url lmao. it was much more popular on my blog tho (1,817. notes)" They did not respond. 😒 It only got 344 reactions and 6 comments on the data page though... that page has like 38k followers... at least my posts do well when I post them myself on the Star Trek Shitposting page 🤣

I've made it. I have arrived. I got my 5 second shitpost lifted and put on another social media site, complete with a hazy photo overlay. I have won at Tumblr. I can rest now. I can rest.

Ohh yeah, this guy's a real loser. It's the WATERMARK for me 🙄

The HUBRIS!

ahh wow Ive never had a post escape containment before!! did they at least link back?

I am touched ^-^

plagiarism is the real problem. it gets worse when you see someone profit off the passions of other people in a fandom

well damn. and i'm here looking for employment...

sad to see someone else repost on fb and even watermark it. seriously what is up with the watermark over a screenshot of a tumblr post

Yeah. I think you're doing good work. I think exploitation is so baked into society that some people don't even realize when they are using the free labor of others for their own gain.

[wakacreations]

Letters From Rolan (Anthology)

Unnamed. Letter Unproperly Sent.

Word Count: 469

Summary:

Rolan reflects on his research and comes to an epiphany.

[A letter written in cursive script.]

Dear ..... ,

What can I even call you? All sorts of pet names are never fitting, putting a label on a love that I wish to never be so fleeting. There was enough fleeting and fleeing that I have undertaken for life so bleak. I am done with the cascades of trailing skies dripping back to the ground on battered heels of tattered boots.

The cries and groans suppressed onto dried battered lips holding further back through a tightening throat. Was this time through suffocating stress or another choking sob wanting to bubbling up from beneath the surface of long past sunken forgotten emotions.

What I am seen as; is the face of disgruntled dissatisfaction but I am just a being. Another being met with defeat from all those that are opposed of I and as the rest are enacting the simple act to let live.

If I could.. If only I could. If I too could.

There is so much of the world taking my attention, diverting what is left of the span of my patience. Has the world gone mad or have I, wishing for clarity of the expansive clear blues and for the guidance of those having come to wander above?

Yes, right what should I call you.. What to call you… Is it really that simple? There are many names to describe what you are flipping through old tomes of fond fairy tales with renewed dewy eyes. There was a time when I was just a naive youth.

I would have looked upon you and called you magical.

I have read enough to know that is untrue. I have become educated enough to say that is not quite right.

You are a curiosity, an oddity, a phenomenon yet for I to come to explain. A discovery that will fill these endless notes in my documentation. Staying wide awake scrawling algorithms, balancing equations in my computations of why these mad tears are replaced with heartfelt wonder.

When did the overcast stop? When did my observations become lively with quick vigorous flourishes of feelings worthy to note?

The data I have collected has a wider margin of error; that has never happened before.

What are these anomalies that influenced these rapidly increasing numbers scattered on quick graphs as I draw precise lines connecting time spent dreaming and the number of chance encounters stumbling upon your path.

My desk is piling higher and higher with the evidence I have compiled. I am still left with questions still left opened ended purposely left unanswered. With a hesitant hand I lament to have them quilled in brief succession.

Am I satisfied with the findings that I never knew I would want to spend in the dedication of for a lifetime onwards? Would I want to write the conclusion of this study just yet? Would I ever want to know the final result?

What to call you…

What to call you..

Well.. I have already called you, love.

- Rolan

[scrapnikmecha]

ok i want to have a consolidated post for my sonic AU stuff and also talk about it more so. under da cut

relevant posts i've already made: relationship chart sigma's backstory mecha/sunflower character analysis mecha's attitude towards metal sigma/mecha ship stuff

my fics (i am a slow writer with a full time job and chronic pain and the fatigue that comes with that. fics don't get done often and they aren't very long. hence this post)

my AU is largely based around the scrapniks and other sonic robots in a canon divergence/future setting, plot goes as follows:

sonic offhandedly mentions scrapnik island around belle, who proceeds to throttle him for not mentioning it to her before

she commandeers one of the restoration's shuttles and takes tails and sonic with her to go get the scrapniks

now on the mainland, the scrapniks receive further repairs/upgrades and settle into their new lives. sigma becomes a mechanic for the restoration (working closely with belle) and mecha splits his time between adventures with sonic and gardening, becoming somewhat of a florist

quick tangent on my "repaired" designs for sigma and mecha: sigma is able to be restored pretty much completely thanks to the restoration having e-100 parts laying around from when rouge and co took them from clutch in the white park arc; mecha largely remains the same as his scrapnik island appearance aside from some cosmetic fixes (some major de-rusting, fresh coat of paint, new cloak). (art i commissioned by @/mmm-asbestos)

through his adventures with sonic, mecha has a few encounters with metal, and he ultimately decides he wants to free metal from eggman (see my relationship chart/mecha's attitude towards metal posts for more info on why)

sigma and belle are on board, tails and sonic need some convincing because they've tried before but they haven't tried what mecha suggests: erasing the code from metal that makes him act the way he does

the group starts hitting old eggman bases to search for any traces of metal's code, looking for physical notes/blueprints and using belle and sigma's innate abilities to use eggtech to backdoor into the eggnet

eventually they scrape together enough data for sigma and tails to compile a program that, in theory, will 1) erase the coding that suppresses metal's free will and makes him completely obedient to eggman, and 2) remove the I Crave Violence software

now metal isn't very easy to capture, so they put the program onto a portable drive that they can stick into metal's data port should they get into a fight; he has one on his head that goes right into his central processor like mecha does. pic for reference

it was only a matter of time for sonic and mecha to have another run-in with metal, and during the fight mecha wrenches open the data port in metal's head in shoves the drive in

the program executes. metal just stops in his tracks for a moment. it must have done Something, because metal gets up and flees

they don't see him for a while. not on his own, but not with eggman, either. things go back to normal for a bit, but eventually mecha starts seeing him out of the corner of his eye before he runs away again.

metal's appearances start growing more numerous, and he starts showing up around others. mecha convinces him to come inside his and sigma's house one night and sig gives him a voice chip

he doesn't speak a whole Lot, but admits he doesn't know what to do with himself now that he's completely free from eggman. having been in the exact same situation, once, mecha tells metal his story and offers to take him under his wing. metal tentatively agrees

most people are deathly afraid of metal and the restoration isn't willing to accept him at this point, so he mainly sticks around his siblings (belle and mecha) plus sonic occasionally, though the two tend to bicker. he has accepted he is not "the real sonic" at this point and finding his own identity is a major point of adjusting to his new life

meanwhile, eggman is FUMING MAD his favorite toy has been taken away and is plotting his own revenge/plans to get metal back, and has given sage control over the eggnet to prevent any further intrusions into his systems

metal has decided that he wants to take on his neo form permanently, as that's how he always felt the most self-actualized

mecha, sigma, tails, belle and sonic form up as their group again along with metal (plus team dark for offensive support, since eggman is now onto them)

none of the abandoned eggman bases have the proper facilities for the neo upgrade, so they bash their way into an active one and seal themselves into the room while sigma and belle get the process started

sage lets them go ahead, all while remaining silent and transmitting information to eggman - he arrives halfway through the upgrade process, and mecha, sonic and team dark to hold him off as long as they can

eggman manages to get the upper hand by taking sigma hostage, forcing mecha and the others to stop...but metal's upgrade finishes just in time, and his rage towards eggman and show of destruction scares him into retreat

he starts thinking of an alternative plan: if he can't recapture metal, maybe he'll just make a new one! upgraded, obedient, and using sigma's infinite energy core! (see my post on his background for more info on that)

metal is happy to be himself again, but is concerned for mecha, who is beside himself with worry over sigma

the two end up setting out on their own to eggman's last known location, and when they end up in the correct base, they are confronted by sage's physical form

she hands mecha sigma's energy core and disappears; the brothers can only wonder why as they search the base for the rest of his body (she disapproves of her father using a sentient robot to build a new one)

they come across the beginnings of eggman's latest "metal" first, and though they attempt to destroy it, sage blocks the way, tells them to get sigma and get out. not willing to fight with her, mecha drags metal out

they find and reactivate sigma and the three escape, and things go back to "normal" for a while...slice of life and metal further learning to be themself occurs

the AU after a bit of a time skip culminates in mecha and metal using the master emerald to go into their super forms and kill eggman (for closure and revenge, respectively) and sage takes over the empire with her new sibling as support but i haven't put much thought into it yet or what happens after.

if you actually read this have a good day.

[langefisharcade]

Snippet

Butcher smiled at the exhibit. Her long light brown curly hair flows behind her black skull mask wrapped together with spider silk with yellow lenses that leaves the back of her hair flowing. The mask obscures her bluish green eyes. The yellow lenses of her mask are durable, high-end swim goggles tinted to help filter out bright lights, with lenses from an old pair of her glasses sealed inside with silicon. The mask design features dull yellow lenses and sections of armor designed to imitate a bug’s mandibles. She wears a black-and-grey spider silk bodysuit with armor panels made out of insect shells, human bones and exoskeletons augmented with more spider silk. Each had "layers" resembling a pillbug. She wore spider silk crafted gloves with clawed fingertips which inched towards her utility belt. Her tools of choice lay in each patch alongside her material for her more… obscure power.

She knew in her very soul what each item was and what they were for. The data her mind compiled allowed her to identify each item worth her time. She activates the firefly lights to highlight to the Teeth each item she requires along with activating the invisible security. 

She inched her flashlight to the side of the wall. Within minutes, her true power activates within the flashlight. Layers of lights in the form of webs flash into life before the Cape. The rest of the Teeth stare in amazement. She nods and they put her training to work.

She smiled. Within seconds she instinctively danced through each layer like nothing. Unlike the rest of her gang, Butcher somehow obtained the experience to do that before she “trained them.” She gleefully notes, “Nothing like a task of poisonous spider webs to prepare oneself.” 

While she never did understand how she knew the training method. She gleefully enjoyed how effective it was. 

Flashback

“Just imagine the security lights as these poisonous webs.” The amnesiac pointed out to the group. The webs congested brutally in the path of the Teeth. On each web is a specialized venomous spider with orders to bite if the web is touched. Vex stared at her, “Seriously?””

“Yep. I want each of you to practice till no one is bit. Understand!” The leader of the Teeth ordered.

End Flashback

She looked at the glass. It was supposed to be a jackal-headed golden divine mask made of unknown material that temporarily released a flash of light after being put on, and it was the size of an average adult human skull with pointed ears, a half-discovered nose in the lower part, and a mustache from the level of the nose up down to the level of underbrush on either part, however, the part that covered the wearer's lips, underbrush, cheeks and ears was completely uncovered. It also possessed eyeholes with lines above them that resembled eyebrows, and a third-eye crater on its forehead where an unidentified gemstone that served as its power source was located. Unfortunately, the gem is not there. So the mask retained a more bronze look to it. She smiled thoughtfully, “Hello there, my old friend.”

But no matter, Butcher guessed where it was. She placed her hand on the case. “Do not worry, old boy. I will restore you to full power. Anubis will bless us both.”

By activating Butcher II’s power, she removes the last barrier to her goals. Within seconds she grabbed her prize. “Poor Gustav. He never did know what he had.”

She glanced over to the Teeth. Each managed to obtain the targeted items. She moved over to the Mesopotamian section. With a flick of the wrist she sprayed special Hieroglyphics she knew in her hearts proved true. Fuck Baal. With that, Butcher led her forces out the door and teleported away.

[your-darling-gaze]

Eyeing the crisp suit chip, getting a hang of it for a moment, a bewildered expression, really, really uncertain about the idea, chest heaving with an easy breath, strained posture from hours of lab work, a chip that reads...

IRON PATRIOT V3.06.884

Latches the chip onto the left side of my chest, tapping it up once, twice...thrice. Tech starting to whirr around, plating expanding to cover against my skin, circuitry whirring inside the plating and cavities, the helmet hatching over my head for cover.

'Friday..? You in here..?'

Breathing heaved, system powering on, a million numbers and figures starting to float around in my sight, stats and figures, a handling console to move the settings around...

WELCOME, IRON PATRIOT. SYSTEM RENDERING, VOICE ACTIVATION REQUIRED.

'Uh...Anthony Edward.'

ACCESS DENIED.

'...Shit...Genius Billionaire?'

ACCESS DENIED.

'....For god's sake if this works....'

'Man in a Can.'

ACCESS GRANTED. FRIDAY, WORKING WITH YOU, IRON PATRIOT. PLEASE REQUEST Y0UR MUSIC.

Shakes head, slightly disappointedbut not surprised...

'Just play anything that mister stark plays, Fri...'

NOTED. NOW PLAYING: TAKE ON ME BY A-HA

'.....Can you make a data chip on the chest plate circuit functioning, send it in?'

PLEASE SPECIFY RECEIVER OF DATA.

'.....Darling Grace...?'

RECEIVER NOT FOUND.

'....Cherry..?'

RECIEVER NOT FOUND.

'Well shit...uh...Experiment Handler.'

RECEIVER FOUND. COMPILING DATA IN PROGRESS.

DATA COMPILED. SENT TO SELECTED USER ONLY WITH ONE TIME PASSWORD FOR ACCESS AND PERMISSION OF REPLICATING THE FILES ONLY TO RECEIVERS WITH ACCESS.

Hums in agreement, whispers a polite 'Thank you...'

Decides to look for controls to get the suit off. Eyes wandering over the many stats and figures hovering into my vision, getting slightly confused.

'...How does this come off...?'

REQUEST RECEIVED FOR TAKE OFF.

'...No, no, I meant Come Off, not Take Off...'

HANDLING RECEIVED FOR TAKE OFF. GETTING THRUSTERS READY.

'....What did you say...?'

THRUSTERS IN POWER, READY FOR BOOST OFF.

'Hey...hey, no, retrieve that request...no request...NO request...'

COUNTING DOWN: 3...2....1...0.

Thrusters boosting up with a jerk, wide eyes, trying to keep up with the tech handling, the sudden unbearable thrust, jaw locked from the acceleration against wind resistance, the music rivetting through the internal speakers, heartbeat throbbing hard against my chest, a violent beeping from the thruster heating up, a slight sheen of sweat against my skin from the heated suiting...

'Retrieve...reque....ret-'

Voice cracking, mouth drying out due to the speed, heartbeat accelerating, the sky speeding past the vision, clouds hazing vision, triggering the Acrophobia, the music resonating between my ears, mindless, not being able to register it...

'Retrieve...retrieve...'

Only small whispers left my throat...

FUEL RETRACTION. ENABLING POWER SAVING FLYING.

Chin trembling out of panic, Anxiety kicking in quicker than breath, trying to move around, trying to move hands, feet, anything, trying to reach somewhere more grounded...

'Mister...Mister Stark....'

FUEL LEVELS ALARMINGLY LOW. ENABLING LOW POWER FREE FALL.

Plummeting through the sky, suit flickering and sputtering as it struggles to stay operational, dim and unstable, with sparks erupting intermittently across its surface. The suit's thrusters erratic, flaring up sporadically but unable to provide consistent propulsion...

WARNING: The HUD displays critical errors and warnings, struggling to keep up with the rapidly changing situation. The suit's sensors and onboard computers are overloaded, barely able to process the free-fall trajectory or calculate a safe landing.

The wind howls around, amplifying the sense of speed and urgency. as the crescendo in the rivetting music builds. Every second counts, attempting to regain control on the deploying emergency systems...

______________________________________________________

( @the-loss-of-my-life @soldier-bucky-barnes )

[haveyouseenthisg1rl]

THROUGH THE EYES OF...

compilation of fan tweets (+ a reddit post) dedicated to nymth rina.

𓇢𓆸 @sereneonly

jisoo is talented but it’s clear marionette wasn’t the group for her, and she’s great in selene so idk why people are so hung up on this 😭

[🎦: video compilation of pre-debut marionette dance practices alongside nymth rina and others]

💬 47 🔁 1.2k 💟 2.5k 🔖 213

SHIN | SELENE 4 LIFE @juhasdcughter

MARIONETTE fans have to keep lying about how Jisoo was removed from the original line up. They like to gaslight that she was kicked out because 1. They’re insecure about how talented & gorgeous she is. 2. Because Selene is now thriving while their fave group is disbanded.

💬 65 🔁 1.5k 💟 3.8k 🔖 100

RINA DATA @JISOOSDOG

- Pit-A-Pat for Dalgona

- Naan for Live On

- 🆕 Eyes On You for My 20th Twenty

RINA, our OST princess indeed! 👸

💬 5 🔁 800 💟 2k 🔖 16

귀여운 🍀 @moondanceuxxx

💚 Jisoo has a unique character. She’s funny, talks a lot and has so much passion when’s she’s on variety shows and interviews. (But off camera) she’s quiet and doesn’t talk much. She doesn’t like to talk things that are on her mind.

[🎦: video compilation of members and co-stars on how quiet and reserved nymth rina really is off cam]

💬 25 🔁 473 💟 1.8k 🔖 40

r/kpopconfessions 2 yr. ago

havensent

Am I in my delulu era? Get me the fuck out please

I recently attended several concerts of my ultimate group, and on the final night, I had barricade access, which turned out to be the most incredible experience of my life. However, one member has captivated me so intensely that I find it difficult to think about anything else, making it hard to return to my normal routine.

This person locked eyes with me repeatedly for several seconds, smiling in a flirtatious way that felt like a punch to the gut. They would turn their head to continue looking at me and smiling as they walked past. Several fans in my section shouted about how lucky I was and noted that the member was checking me out. One lady behind me even told me to start packing my bags for Korea because I was about to get invited! I experienced eye contact and smiles from all the members that night, got splashed with water, and treasured every moment. However, the way this member looked at me felt distinct, surprising, and overwhelming.

I managed to capture a few instances on my phone, and a kind fan also shared their recordings with me. Part of the moment was even caught on a live stream, but the cameraman shifted focus halfway through because this member was looking at me instead of the camera. I can't stop watching the videos and reliving those moments. I would never share them, though, as this member has many solo stans who can be harsh, and I don’t want to make anyone jealous—that's the last thing I would want.

I keep listening to their songs, watching videos, and just bought some of their merchandise. I know I’m being a bit ridiculous, but moving on is proving to be a challenge. A fan who received far less interaction from this idol even made a 40-minute YouTube video detailing their experience, which makes me feel somewhat tame in comparison. Still, I can’t shake this dull ache in my heart, hoping it’s just post-concert depression.

Has anyone else experienced this? When did you finally feel normal again? I’ve never been overly delusional or a hardcore stan. As a grown woman a few years older than this idol, I understand that I’ll never be in a relationship with them, that they don’t “like” me, and that they probably haven’t thought of me since the concert ended. My mind knows this, but my heart is struggling to catch up. I just feel a bit stuck right now. Thank you for listening if you’ve made it this far; I really needed to express this somewhere. I don’t know anyone in real life who shares my enthusiasm for my group or even K-pop.

🗃️: Archived post. New comments cannot be posted and votes cannot be cast.

⬆️ 247 ⬇️ 💬 150 🏅 ↪️

[skitariiposting]

hiii so a friend of mine is gonna be running an only war game, and i've got an enginseer written up, and while i know the main trick is just maximizing my autism swag, i'm wondering if you've got any fun ideas for roleplaying a techpriest. thanks!

Sure! Here's a couple of neat ideas I've compiled for some of my NPCs that I might run in future Dark Heresy games. Feel free to pick and choose a couple to work into your character if you like them!

1. "Names are confusing" - This character has trouble remembering non-admech names, instead electing to call every non-mechanicus person something along the lines of "Meatbag," "Lapdog," "Biological One," "Fleshling," "Rat," "Annoyance," "Thing," and/or "You."

2. "Varience. of. PITCH! andtiming" - THIS admech has PROblemsspeaking in NORmal ScEnTeNcEs due to beING so UUUUUUuuused to SPEAKING in PROJECTED TEXT via ocular SENsoooors.

3. "Empathy" is an oddity amongst the admech. However, there are some that still cling to the likes of empathy and compassion. Steel may have replaced their hearts biologically, but even a steel heart still yearns for love. Maybe in different ways than the usual biological beings, but love is love.

4. "Strong silent type." Not mute mind you, they just don't have a lot to say. Instead of butting in to conversations, they tend to wait until someone asks them for something or until the perfect moment to say something (sometimes to comedic effect) (skit's note for Anar-kitty or any player that wants to go this route: be sure to discuss this with your party if you want to play a character like this. It helps to keep them in the know as it will allow them to be prepared to interact and bounce dialogue of your character. Also, while being quiet may be part of your personality, going out of your way to stay quiet even if it inconveniences your team may not be wise. Still talk, and be active out of character! Don't let your parry think you yourself are disinterested, make it a point that the character is quiet, either through stoicism, edginess, or even shyness! Describe body language or how your character may communicate non-verbally (examples: shrugging instead of saying "I don't know," giving a thumbs up to say okay, describing nervous fidgeting, describing facial expressions, etc. ))

5. "Know it all." Everyone around you doesn't know how to "properly" use technology, and it's driving you insane. No one is doing morning chants for their weapons' machine spirits blessings! Heck, most of them don't even know any rituals!! And they just. Point these poor machines at things and *hope* they work??? You need to whip these biological beings into shape! They need to start following proper mechanical doctrine, and it's your job to get them on the right path!

6. "Unknowable" You hide beneath a standard admech robe, only small portions of your body are visible, whether that be your eyes, hands, feet, whatever have you, or even none of the above! But whenever you have a need for something, you always seem to reveal it from beneath your cloak, as if it manifested from the void. Extra arms, weapons, tools, a tail, a data port, comms devices, you name it, somehow it all fits beneath your cloak, and nobody has seen your true form beneath it.

7. "Gullible" since you've been raised amongst the socially inept admechs for so long, your knowledge of jokes and saying are... subpar. You take things at face value or struggle to find meaning in the sarcastic or metaphoric. You prefer the literal meaning of what people say.

8. "[Statement]" (skit tip: look up videos of HK-47 from Star Wars: Knights of The Old Republic talking, it'll give you an idea. )

You lack proper means to adjust pitch, leaving you to talk in a constant monotone voice. As such, wanting to show your emotions, you state what they are prior to what you are about to say.

9. "Pets." You find little biological creatures "cute" even if they are meatlings. You may take some with you to places and display them proudly to your compatriots, mayhaps even if they are ugly to them or dangerous. You may take interest in replicating their design into servitors or even converting the creatures themselves.

10. "Machines are friends, not slaves." You find the company of machines to be quite enjoyable, however people seem to view them in a different light. You find this disconcerting, as your machines are your friends, and you treat them with love and repsect! Why do others not treat theirs the same way?

11. "Death is not the end." When we pass, we continue our work for the Omnissiah, either as Servitors or perhaps the Omnissiah may take favor with your devotion and grant you the honor of becoming a machine spirit. Either way, mourn not the dead, friends. We are cogs in the machine, and cogs break from time to time. But we can always repair them so they may continue their work.

12. "Utterances." You mumble odd things beneath your breath or aloud when you think nobody is listening. You constantly seem to be planning your next move, and to others, it may seem worrying. Are you planning a contingency for if they turn on you? Are you plotting a master heist to steal xeno technologies from the inquisition? Did you just insult one of them behind their backs? Are you uttering an ancient prayer beneath your breath that may bless them? The answers could always be yes, but it is more likely that you are planning to construct a new machine from their weapons when they turn their backs to you.

Little tips:

If you are playing online, consider grabbing Voicemod or an equivalent to change your voice to sound more mechanical-y! (Be sure to set up a toggle on and off button for in and out of character, and test the voice with a friend prior to playing to make sure it won't get annoying during long sessions)

Admechs benefit from being chaotic or weird; the classic "I'm crazy or unusual" bit many players want to tap into, but struggle with capturing. My advice? Paradoxically: dont go overboard. Dont try to be the center of attention. Try to be a setup for the other characters' moments instead of the other way around. People enjoy characters like Jester from CR for her chaos, but tend to forget that she largely is used to set up other people to make a joke or to cause a problem for the party to fix, while still having her own character and story that's separate from her "I'm a silly chaotic person." Here's the biggest thing to remember:

Your randomness should be a facet of your character, not your entire personality.

Stay consistent with your randomness. Develop predictable patterns. If you just keep being chaotic without method to your madness, it becomes annoying or difficult to pin down what your character actually is, and that makes it difficult to interact with them. Have boundries your character wouldnt break, and use that to create inner conflict! (Example: I want to pie my friend in the face, but he's sad from his girlfriend breaking up with him. My morals tell me that I love my friend and always try to cheer him up, but uuuuuuugh the prank would be soooo funny to me and potentially everyone else! Ooh, but it'd likely conflict with my want to cheer him up, as it'd make him mad or sadder... How do I feel about this situation and how will it affect my decision and interaction with the other character?)

Developing a pattern to your "I am a chaotic being" helps other players to compliment your character and vice versa! Jester likes pulling pranks, so eventually the Nien figures that out and starts to keep an eye out for it. Does that stop her from trying? No! But its a predictable action that can still be chaotic, while not being uninteractable or disruptful to the enjoyment of the game for everyone at the table. Running gags, pranks or catchphrases are a good place to start, then build on it the farther you go.

My best advice I give for character development, and this goes for any kind of character you run: You aren't just playing a character. You're playing on a team of characters. Try to play to their strengths as much as your own.

There we go! I modified them a bit to be more "for a character" and not an NPC, so hopefully, there will be some interesting ideas to build off of for your character! If you have any other questions or would like some more, feel free to ask! I'm always happy to be of assistance :D

[fictionfixations]

azul broomquet lines

(i never took the time to actually look through this stuff. but also his lines aren't on the fandom wiki yet)

i dont know how to format stuff on the wiki anyway so. might as well put this here.

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

Azul Broomquet / Birthday Bloom

Summon: What a grand party this is. I gladly accept your sentiments. ("This gold embroidery is just lovely. I'll take care to conduct myself as befits such refined attire.")

Groovification: I prepared exhaustively for today. Allow me to demonstrate the fruits of my effort!

Set to Home Screen: I shall make your wishes come true.

Home transition 1: Jade brewed this tea for me. He had an oddly bright smile on his face when he served it, though... Would you care to try some?

Home transition 2: Octavinelle students keep bringing me food they want me to try. How can they expect me to eat it all?

(^ note: it's mentioned in Floyd's Birthday Boy vignette that Azul doesn't like food being wasted.)

Home transition 3: Why would you put candles in cake? It looks lovely all lit up in the dark, but it ruins the presentation when it comes time to eat.

Home, after login: I'm honored you'd take valuable time out of your day to celebrate on my behalf. After all, time is money, as they say.

Home transition/Groovification: I don't think Jack's cut out for negotiations. His tail gives him away.

(^ note: Duo magic is with Jack. Plus that's who interviews him in his vignette. I wonder if that's the same for every other birthday card, with the exception of the ones I think we interview all of them in.)

Tap Home 1: It's my policy not to accept gifts, but I do make exceptions for people I want to maintain long-term contact with. Like, say Kalim.

Tap Home 2: Brooms look so much nicer when accentuated with chic flowers. It's a prime example of a tiny amount of work turning drab into dazzling.

Tap Home 3: Idia beat me soundly in a board game. How dare he humiliate me on my birthday... I must compile more data and avenge myself!

Tap Home 4: I bought a rare coin I'd had my eye on as a gift to myself. It was rather pricey, but I'm looking forward to seeing its value appreciate in the future.

Tap Home 5: Don't bother trying to surprise me. I've got eyes in the back of my head. Heh heh, that was a joke, of course.

Tap Home/Groovification: You wish to know what I want? A birthday song would be nice. You'll sing one for me, right?

Here's the groovified ver, although you can find it on the fandom wiki card itself)

---

Bonus (Vignette)

Jack: Have a nice flight, and be extra careful not to fall off.

Azul: Couldn't say that with a straight face, could you? As if I'd ever embarrass myself... ... *exhale*

hehe

[zoeology31]

Decided to mess around on Baseball Reference the other day to practice my... data sifting skills, I guess? Anyway, this is an exercise to find every time Nick Castellanos of the Tigers/Cubs/Reds/Phillies has hit a drive into deep left field to make it a 4-0 ballgame.

As great as the extended "Castellanos has an Absol-like ability to homer when something unfortunate happens" meme is, I'm not compiling a list of all his home runs, there's 220 of those counting the postseason. Instead I'd like to find every career home run of his that fits the criteria of the original meme (deep left field, 4-0 ballgame). There's a couple video compilations out there that do this, but they're all a few years out of date and I'd like to look through the data myself to see if anything interesting was missed.

Unfortunately there's not a good way to search a baseball database via the score before or after a particular play, so I have to manually go through all 12 years of Castellanos's B-Ref game logs. Here's my heuristics for this process:

For a given season, sort the game logs by HR to reduce scrolling, since we only care about games he homered in.

Check the final score. If Castellanos's team scored less than 4 runs, no need to even check the box score.

Otherwise, click through and look at the linescore to see if Castellanos's team scored at least 4 runs before the other team scored any, thus enabling a midgame 4-0 score.

If so, scroll down to the play-by-play to find Castellanos's home run(s) and confirm the score and direction.

Here is an initial list of every home run hit by Castellanos to drive in the 4-0 run, even if the total runs scored on the play made the score greater than 4-0, in chronological order:

6/7/2014: 3rd inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.

7/30/2014: 1st inning 3-run homer, RF, 6-0.

4/10/2015: 5th inning 2-run homer, RF, 5-0.

7/22/2015: 3rd inning grand slam, LF-CF, 5-0.

8/19/2015: 3rd inning grand slam, LF, 7-0.

8/24/2015: 1st inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.

7/17/2017: 2nd inning 2-run homer, CF, 4-0.

9/8/2017: 3rd inning grand slam, CF-RF, 4-0.

6/16/2018: 5th inning 2-run homer, LF, 5-0.

8/30/2019: 2nd inning 2-run homer, LF, 5-0.

9/3/2019: 5th inning 3-run homer, RF, 5-0.

8/19/2020: 5th inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.

8/13/2021: 6th inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.

9/11/2021: 3rd inning 2-run homer, LF, 4-0.

6/28/2023: 2nd inning 3-run homer, LF, 5-0.

9/15/2023: 1st inning 3-run homer, LF, 4-0.

9/20/2023: 4th inning 2-run homer, RF, 4-0.

9/24/2023: 4th inning 2-run homer, LF, 4-0.

And narrowing down specifically to drives to deep left field to make it a 4-0 ballgame, we are left with:

6/7/2014: 3rd inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.

8/24/2015: 1st inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.

8/19/2020: 5th inning solo homer, LF, 4-0. (Bonus: the extremely normal call from the opposing broadcast)

8/13/2021: 6th inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.

9/11/2021: 3rd inning 2-run homer, LF, 4-0.

9/15/2023: 1st inning 3-run homer, LF, 4-0.

9/24/2023: 4th inning 2-run homer, LF, 4-0.

That's two with the Tigers, a nearly five-year gap between occurrences, three with the Reds, and two with the Phillies, for a total of seven times. Yes, he's done it four times in three full seasons since the initial meme incident, after only doing it twice in six full seasons before that.

There's no real rhyme or reason to this distribution; Castellanos has hit more home runs on a rate basis since 2020, but had a long enough career before that to accumulate more total home runs. Intuitively, factors like team quality and ballpark affect the frequency of opportunities to hit a 4-0 home run, but as we can see from the larger list above, Castellanos's overall homers to drive in the 4-0 run (18 total over 10 seasons) are distributed roughly equally throughout his career. Those homers have just happened to match the exact meme factors more frequently since 2020. Baseball magic?

Also of note, that first qualifying home run after the meme one happened the at-bat after Castellanos got plunked in the shoulder, and the second one was, as you can see, on the anniversary of 9/11. Featured on both those videos is the Reds play-by-play announcer who replaced Brennaman, John Sadak, aka the guy losing his mind on every Elly De La Cruz highlight video (here's some good examples). Blessing in disguise, honestly, he makes Reds games fun to tune into.

This is an Elly De La Cruz post now, actually. Watch those highlights. He's so cool. Baseball is the best.

Bonus: In his young career, De La Cruz has hit one (1) deep drive to make it a 4-0 ballgame, on 7/30/23, though it was to right field. As a switch-hitter who therefore bats lefty the majority of the time, he will homer to left field much less frequently than the righty Castellanos, but of course he'll do lots of other stuff too.