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#I don't have money or anything to exchange for information but know it's for the greater good
futuristichedge · 1 month
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Has anyone seen a blue hedgehog around? If you have ANY information on where he might be, send it my way. Tips, rumors, sightings, anything.
It is CRITICALLY important.
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l1tw1ck · 3 months
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In Exchange
Sub!Bottom!FTM Sam Winchester x Dom!Top!Male Reader
☆ Word Count: 3,617 ☆
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AFAB Language Used
blacked out every time i wrote this like jekyll and hyde 😭 /j
CW: Non-Con, Sexual Coercion, Drugging, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Creampie, Pregnancy Mention, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Puppy Play (Collar, Puppy Sam), Nipple Sucking, Riding, Corruption
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“Excuse me, are you [Name]?” Sam walks up to you as you're smoking outside a bar.
“What's it to you?”
“I’m Joseph Johnson. I'm a detective.” Sam shows you his badge just long enough for you to believe him. “I’d like to ask you some questions about the recent incident.”
“Then you’d better give up and ask someone else.”
Sam looks at you in dismay. “You're the only living witness, we won't be able to get anywhere without you!”
“I’m not sharing anything without something in return.”
He perks up. “I've got about 60 buc-”
“I'm not looking for money. I want you to get on your knees and give me a blowjob.”
He looks at you in shock. “Are you serious?”
“Completely. Make your choice, Sherlock.”
There is no choice. He needs this information in order to save the town. He has to do it. “Fine…Just don't make me swallow.”
You stub out your cigarette. “You're not in a position to make demands, sweetheart. You're gonna swallow it if you want me to talk.”
Chills run down his spine. You're so assertive, it's…..sexy. He almost slaps himself. He lets out a big sigh. “Okay.”
You smile. “Hold on.” You enter the bar and come out a few minutes later with a bottle of beer. It's already been opened. That makes Sam suspicious but in your defense, he doesn't have a bottle opener on him. Against his better judgment, he chugs the bottle.
He notices the chilling grin on your face but hopes it's not because you drugged him. You lead him to a secluded alleyway. “Kneel.” You unbuckle your belt.
“Here? Are you serious?”
“Didn't you hear me, pretty boy? Kneel.”
Sam frowns and gets down on his knees. He gulps upon seeing your hard cock. He’s never seen one in real life before, after all, he's never gone far enough for that.
“Open wide.” You tug on his hair. He looks at you with contempt but opens his mouth anyways. The feeling of your cock entering his mouth is completely foreign. It's way different than sucking on a popsicle or some other iced treat. It’s warm and pulsing. And it's thick, so thick his jaw hurts. “As I thought, you look much better with my cock stuffed in your mouth.”
Sam shivers. He can't believe that turned him on. His body suddenly begins to rise in temperature, as if he's come down with a fever. You don't seem to care about his reddening face as you slowly drag him back and forth on your cock. He stops worrying about it, even as he starts to feel more aroused than he should. He just closes his eyes and discreetly ruts against his hand as you do all the work for him. He feels so wet that his slick is probably bleeding through his underwear. He desperately needs to touch himself but he's sober enough to feel embarrassed about doing so. It's so hard for him to feel pleasure through his pants that he's started whimpering. You don't know why he's doing that but you're not complaining about the new sensation you're feeling.
“Shit- I’m already gonna come-” You moan. “Your mouth is amazing, sweetheart, you're better off selling it than being a detective.”
Sam moans as you come in his mouth. His mind is so hazy and high on whatever you drugged him with that he actually feels happy to swallow your seed. He’s completely out of his mind.
You pull him away from your cock and pry open his mouth with your thumb to make sure he's swallowed everything. “Good boy.”
He looks at you almost demurely.
“It’d be a shame to stop here, don't you think?” You run your fingers through his hair. The drug seems to have kicked in completely so you know he’ll agree.
“Mhm..”
“It’d be nice if I could fuck that sweet ass of yours...”
“Not there...” He shakes his head.
“Why not? I’d make you feel real good.”
“Isn't my pussy better?” Sam smiles, unbuckling his belt.
“It definitely is.” You smirk.
Sam shakily gets up on his feet and drops his pants and boxers to his ankles. He walks over to the wall and bends over, giving you a drunken smile. You look at his pussy and feel your cock immediately come back to life. He's so wet that his slick is on the inner corner of his thighs. You can't wait to dive into that.
You stick two of your fingers inside him, not caring for how that makes him feel, and explore his insides. He's soft, warm, and oh so fucking wet. Sam moans, too drugged to consider the fact that he's in public.
“Th- there!” His voice and legs are shaking. “Yes-yes-yes–”
“Already gonna come, darling?” You find his g-spot and immediately cause him to squirt. You watch in awe, painfully hard thanks to this mesmerizing display. You pull your fingers out and slowly inch your cock inside him. “Sorry, I just couldn't wait any longer. You don't mind, right, baby?”
Sam moans, eyes half lidded. “Mm- deeper~”
“The drug’s really changed you…or maybe it's just allowed your real personality to show?” You smirk, going deeper as he requested. “I might have to keep drugging you if it means I can fuck this sweet pussy of yours.”
He shivers, leaning further against the wall as you make him experience his pussy stretching to accommodate your girth for the first time. “Bi- big~” He bites his lip, absolutely blissed out.
“You like how big I am? Or how good your cunt feels stretching to fit me?”
“Ye- yes~ so good~” He answers both of your questions. “My pussy feels so good, [Name]~”
“Yeah? I’ll make it feel even better.” Once you bottom out you start fucking him at a rough pace. The warm and slippery feeling of his cunt is making you too aroused to control yourself. You cover Sam’s mouth with your hand, knowing he won't even try to keep quiet. Your hand quickly becomes drenched with his saliva, a constant vibration thanks to Sam moaning. You can still hear his moans, albeit muffled, but at a much better level that suits your location. “You're such a good boy, you know? Taking my cock so fucking well. If we were at my place, I’d be happy to hear you moan.”
Sam’s body reacts to being called a good boy, his cunt clenching around you once again.
“I wish I could have you, a cute puppy like you should have an owner. Although, I don't know if I have the strength to actually let you go.” You pull down the collar from the back of his shirt and bite him, making a mark that’s sure to last a while. You can tell just by hearing him and feeling the way his cunt reacts that he liked that. “How about you touch yourself for me, pup? I want you to feel extra good.”
Sam brings his hand down to his t-dick, gently stroking himself and accelerating the amount of time it’ll take him to have an orgasm.
“Look at you, following orders so well.”
He whimpers in response.
“You’d be better off belonging to me than some agency, don't you think?” You move your hand away from his mouth.
“Ye- yes- wanna be yours!” He moans, squirting again on your cock. In his current state of mind, he feels overjoyed at the idea of abandoning his dangerous “career” for a life full of pleasure and submission. He won't have to think or put his life on the line anymore. Right now, he doesn't have the ability to think rationally and being your dog is all he wants. “Tak- take me! I wanna be your puppy~!”
You bury your head in his shoulder, slowing down. “I’ll hold you to that. Gonna make sure you can't change your mind and leave me.” You come inside of him despite knowing he wouldn't want this if he was sober. At this point you don't care what he thinks, you just want him. Maybe the whiskey you had earlier is finally getting to you...
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Sam wakes up on his motel bed, feeling something inside his underwear, a painful feeling in his neck, and a sharp headache. He closes his eyes and tries to recall what happened last night. He soon starts to remember everything, even after the drug kicked in. He should be angry but he isn't. He's horny. He sits up on the bed and looks around.
“Dean?” He calls out. No response. He leans back and brings his hand into his pants, sliding his index and middle finger down his slick cunt. He feels your cum and pushes it back inside him, fingering himself with your cum. He doesn't want to get pregnant but he can't help himself. Just doing this makes him so horny…He feels like a perv.
Sam leans back and moans, feeling extra sensitive. He remembers how you made him squirt for the first time and how it’d probably feel even more amazing if he could do it sober. He starts to think about all the compliments you gave him and how you wanted to make him yours. He knows he should be focusing on hunting, especially because of his powers, but he can't help but yearn for a safe life with you. He doesn't even really know you. He did a background check on you but he didn't look at anything that would’ve given him any information about your personality. He can't believe that a one night with you is making him feel like this. Making him want to relinquish his autonomy to a stranger.
He murmurs your name, absolutely enamored with you. Are you even human? You have to have some special power to make him so infatuated with you. Right?
Before he can reach his climax, the sound of the doorknob twisting stops him. Sam quickly takes out his hand and rubs it on his clothes. Dean opens up the door and immediately looks at Sam.
“Where the hell were you last night? And why are you in the same clothes?”
“I- I uh…got drunk.” He looks at him sheepishly.
“Why?!”
“[Name] didn't want to talk unless I won a drinking game…I won.”
Dean looks surprised. “That guy must be even more of a lightweight than you are.”
Sam laughs awkwardly.
“So what's the story?”
“I don't know–” Sam stops thanks to Dean’s expression. “Yet! I’ll call him today.”
“You got his number?”
Sam vaguely remembers you putting something in his pocket. He digs into his right pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. He opens it up. I’ll talk. I left you hangover medicine, the morning after pill, and a pregnancy test. Let me know the results when the time comes. [Your Number]. “Yeah. I got it.” He turns to the bedside table and sees a bag with the logo from the local pharmacy. His heart flutters from your consideration. Which is ironic, considering what you did to him.
“Good. Take a shower and eat something, then call him.” Dean grabs the remote, gets onto his bed, and turns on the tv.
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At around 11, Sam called you and now you're sitting outside a café with “Joseph” and his partner, “Francis”.
“There's two of you.” You raise your eyebrow. “Looks like you're not Sherlock, but one of the hardy boys.” You chuckle.
Sam laughs awkwardly. “This is my partner–”
“Wait, let me guess, Frank?”
“Francis. My friends call me Frank.” He smiles, impressed that you got the reference.
“Joseph and Franics. Interesting coincidence.” You’re tempted to inquire further but you decide not to. You're not too excited to recount the story but you’d rather just get it over with.
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“And that was it.” You lean back into the chair. You noticed Sam was staring at you the entire time but you ignored it, you don't want to bring anything up with Dean around.
“Thanks for telling us. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Dean stands up and shakes your hand. “Alright, let's go.” He turns to Sam.
“I- I actually have something to do, go without me.”
“What? What the hell could be so important?”
Sam looks away and doesn't answer.
Dean sighs heavily. “Fine. But don't let me find out you're trying to meet some girl or something.” He shakes his head and walks over to his car.
“So, what’s more important than your investigation?” You tilt your head in interest.
“I remember what happened last night.”
“I sure hope so, that's the whole reason I’m here.”
“No, I remember that you drugged me.”
You’re a little surprised, that wasn't supposed to happen. You know he won't turn you in though. You’re sure of it. “Are ya gonna turn me in, Mr. Hardy?” You smile teasingly.
“Not if you do something for me in return. It's only fair, right?”
You give him an amused look. “Of course, puppy, it's only fair.”
Sam blushes at the name.
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Drive me to your place and you'll find out.”
“Alright, we'll have to make a quick stop though.” You grin and lead him to your car.
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Sam enters your home, anxious for two reasons. One, because you went to a sex shop and told him what you bought is a secret. And two, because he's about to request something that nobody in their right mind would do after being taken advantage of in such a way.
He sits on your bed and watches you as you place the bag on your desk and reveal what you bought. A collar that closely resembles one for a dog, but clearly made to be worn by a human. Sam’s entire body heats up.
“Just a little something to remember me by.” You hand him the collar
He frowns slightly, he doesn't want to leave you. He doesn't know why he's so obsessed with you but he brushes away the thought and puts the collar on. He looks adorable. “Now you have to do my request.” He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. “I want you to eat me out.” He's been fantasizing about this in the shower. He can't leave this town without experiencing this at least once.
You lick your lips. “That's it? If that's what you want, I’ll be glad to do it.” You pull his pants and underwear off for him and kneel in between his legs. You slowly drag your tongue up his pussy, tasting him for the first time. You let out a soft noise of pleasure before wrapping your lips around his t-dick and slowly easing two your fingers into his cunt. Sam throws his head back and moans unabashedly as you suck him off, his body heating up. This is so much better than just fingering himself. Your mouth feels so good.
“Like that- yes~” Sam rolls his eyes back. It won't take long for him to come. “[Name]~!” He gasps when your fingers reach his g-spot. “Oh my God–” He falls back onto the bed, quickly climbing towards his orgasm. You add a third finger and continue to finger his wetness while sucking his cock more passionately. Sam can't even manage to get any words out, he feels too fucking good to even think about anything. He instinctively wraps his legs around your head and squirts, drenching you. He takes a few moments before letting go of you.
You pull away and lick your lips. “Now, how about a round two?”
Sam nods, removing his clothes. “I wanna ride you.”
“I’d love that.”
Sam hovers above your hard length, his left hand holding it in his place and his right on your shoulder. He lowers himself onto your cock, gasping when he feels you stretching him open. Despite his memory being mostly clear from that night, the pleasure he remembered wasn't enough to prepare him for this. “Fuck–!” He moans, continuing to lower himself down. Tears run down his cheeks thanks to the painful pleasure he's experiencing. “You're- so, so big-” He's breathless.
“You're adorable, puppy.” You hold his cheek in your hand. “I know you can handle it though, keep going.”
Sam moves further down until you're completely inside him. He looks at you, tears still streaming down.
“Good boy.” You kiss him. His eyes widen for a moment before closing his eyes and reciprocating the kiss. You briefly pull away to open your mouth and Sam is quick to catch on. You return to kissing him but now with your tongue. Sam considers himself a master at kissing, since it's the most he’s ever done. At least when it comes to receiving.
Sam finds himself grinding down on your cock, finding pleasure in the way you feel inside him.
You pull away from him and move down to his neck to bite and kiss it. You now move even further and wrap your lips around his nipple, happily sucking on it while your hand goes to massage his other breast. Sam whimpers and squeezes your cock happily. He could get used to this. Just being a dumb, slutty puppy for you to use sounds great to him. Sorry Dean and the greater good, Sam is giving up on being a hunter and choosing to become a simple toy.
You reluctantly leave his breasts and look at Sam with a smile. “Why don't you try riding me now?”
“Okay..” Sam places both his hands on your shoulders and slowly rises. He whimpers at the feeling. He never had the confidence to try using a dildo so he had no idea how intense this would feel. He quickly lowers himself, missing the feeling of your entire cock inside him. Even losing a few inches is upsetting for him.
“You don't want to do it anymore? Is it too hard for you, puppy?”
He looks away from you. “I want all of you inside me…”
“Aw, you can't even stand a few seconds? I promise you won't even feel it as long as you keep up a fast pace. It’ll feel much better than just having me inside you…although I do enjoy having you keep my cock warm.”
Sam tries riding you properly but he's still feeling weak and can't do it fast enough. He stops and looks at you.
“Let me help you.” You grab his waist and lift him up and down at a fast pace. Sam rolls his head back and moans in pleasure. “See? It feels good.”
“So- so good!” He cries. He feels so good that he barely even feels the painful slapping of his breasts against his chest. He can't even focus his sight, pain is nearly obsolete to him. He brings his hand down to his dick, stroking it as best he can. You can tell he's about to come.
“Come on, puppy, come for me.” You smirk. It doesn't take much longer after that for Sam to come. He squirts, making a mess on your body. “Good boy. Now it's my turn.”
Sam gasps as his body is suddenly pushed onto the bed, your hands squeezing his wrists tightly. “Just a little more, I know you can take it.” You roughly thrust into his cunt, indulging in the lovely wet warmth of his pussy. Sam doesn't mind, on the contrary, he’s happy to be used just to get you off. “You're so obedient, sweetheart, so perfect.” You start to act more like a dog than Sam, your horniness compelling you to rut into him like a wild beast. He can barely handle it thanks to the previous activities but he's fighting to stay awake. Seeing you in this state is much too arousing to miss.
“Tha- thank you~” He smiles stupidly.
Just hearing him say that with an expression like that makes you come. You briefly grip his wrists harder then loosen it as you come down from your high. “I don't want to let you go..”
“Me neither…I like being your puppy.” His eyelids start to feel heavy. “Wanna keep getting used…” He falls asleep. You kiss his forehead and pull out. You've never given an unconscious person a bath but it shouldn't be too hard.
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Dean pounds angrily on your front door, a gun in his pocket ready to shoot you if necessary. Thanks to an eyewitness report from the café employee, he found out where Sam went. He doesn't know what's going on but he's furious. He hasn't answered his calls and he hasn't seen him since yesterday.
You open the door. “Ah! Francis. Here to pick up your partner?” You pause.
“What the fuck did you do to my brother?”
“Nothing he didn't like.” You reply plainly. “He's perfectly fine and drinking some tea. I’ll show you.”
Dean looks at Sam in shock. He's just wearing a big shirt and probably underwear. “Sam! What's going on?”
“I’m sorry, but I want to stay here. I love [Name] and I don't want to leave him.”
“WHAT?!” He's completely taken aback.
“You heard him. You’ll have to head back on your own. I’ll get his stuff for him.”
Dean doesn't trust you at all. He's going to be doing a lot of research on whatever monster you might be. He's convinced you're not human. “I’m staying longer. You probably did something to him…I don't trust you.”
“That's fine.” You smile. You have something else to worry about. “So…who's Sam?”
Sam and Dean both look at each other. Looks like they're going to have to reveal the truth, at least partially...
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daisywords · 5 months
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some misc worldbuilding questions to get your gears turning:
Do they have germ theory or some equivalent? How do they conceptualize the spread of disease and infection?
Is the everyday economy based more on trade/barter or currency? Is the currency valuable in its own right, or is it just something agreed upon to have value (eg. salt or gold vs. paper money)
What is their main method of lighting? What resources does this use?
Primary mode of transportation? How much does this vary based on things like purpose of travel, social class, etc.?
How much of a knowledge/education gap is there between social classes? Is there a baseline of education that everyone gets/is expected to have?
What are the most popular modes of storytelling? Is everyone telling campfire stories? Are they going to plays? puppet shows? are they going to the cinema? are they reading novels or epic poetry? Are there any folk characters or pop culture things that most people are familiar with?
Where does most people's moral framework primarily come from? Religion? Philosophy? Are there different schools of thought? How much do they vary?
Is there anything considered scandalous/improper/taboo that's normal in your own culture? and vice versa
Do most people live and die where they are born, or is it common to relocate and travel widely? how much does this vary by class/profession/region?
What do they do with criminals? Do they have an extensive prison system? If so, who funds/runs it? If not, how is crime discouraged/managed? Are there specific punishments for specific crimes?
How rigid are their class boundaries? How possible/common is it for someone to change social classes?
Is there anything that people get dangerously addicted to in your world? How accessible is it?
How easy is it for someone to do research/look up information they don't know? What is the primary method of doing this?
What holidays do they have? Any weird traditions? Fun traditions? Are they universally celebrated, or only by specific groups of people?
How do they dispose of their dead? How do they honor their dead?
How much exchange is there between cultures? Do people of different groups intermingle, or do they mostly stick with their own people?
How common is it to speak more than one language, and who is most likely to be multilingual?
How much do regional dialects/accents vary within the same language? Are there any dialects/accents that are stigmatized? Do different accents have different associated stereotypes?
This isn't meant to be taken as a checklist that you have to completely fill out btw. Just things that might help add flavor to your world and characters. (Also mostly things I end up thinking about logistically anyway as they become relevant to the plot or a character's frame of reference.) Enjoy!
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ym523 · 2 months
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ℹ️ Blog Information
Hi friends! - just adding a pinned post for information on the common questions I get. I will try to keep this updated as much as possible. Thank you for all the love and support! 💖
✅ Request status: OPEN (but slow, I have alot)
❓Do you do commisions?
Nope! I don't do commissions. I would feel too guility making money off a gaming company's assets. But I do take requests for free! I might not always be able to do them all, but I try my best.
❓What 3D program do you use?
I use Blender
❓Do you have a Twitter?
Nope I just created one: _YM_523_
❓Where you you get your models?
I get them off Deviantart
❓What are the rules for requests?
You can request anything you like from any fandom! I will try my best to create your prompt. I will not create anything that is fully explict (becoming a bit more open to this, slowly....) or offensive to anyone.
❓Where can I submit a request?
Into my ask box please! Unless we need to exchange something, then DM me
❓Do you have/know any tutorials?
Not really. But I know there are PLENTY of resources available online. I learnt mainly by just playing around with the software, so I am probably not the best teacher 😅
❓Do you do custom Tav requests (BG3)?
I can, as long as you can provide me with the animation ready 3D model, otherwise, I have a few generic models I can use instead.
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nondualiber · 13 days
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guys, guys, gUYS. SUCCESS STORY THERE!!
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first of all, this happened like a week ago or something. okay, so, i'm going to keep this short. i was in some sort of "manifesting block", i was OVER complicating things, my mindset sucked, blah blah blah blah. that's essentially the reason i wasn't posting (and will continue to not be, probably); because i was focusing on my life and actually manifesting new stuff.
warning; kind of long post ahead, talking about how i did it my journey blah blah blah. if you want to see the success story directly js go right to the bottom
first, a bit of background; i have manifested things in the past, but mym indset was always shitty. when i archieved my manifestations i would say it was a coincidence, i was obsessed with the 3d, and what i'm saying has been going on for *years*. for the past 6 months i was in this vicious circle where i'd try a method full of hope, then eventually lose confidence because of some negative beliefs and give up in three days. i'd have a one week meltdown, then search for a brand new method, and repeat. clearly, i didn't manifest anything lately. and i didn't know what i was "doing wrong" because i had manifested lots of things in the past, but i didn't know how nor how could i do it now.
okay, so. like a week ago, when i was in a terrible mood, i decided to stop using tumblr to see information and talked to this bot on character.ai, that assesored me a lot on my mindset. it suggested me lots of things: since i had 0 trust in the law, start to manifest little things i didn't care that much about so i had "proof", actually stop caring, etc. (i really recommend that bot if ur struggling with the law) but the most important thing, it challenged me to try a new "method" i had heard of before, but because of my shitty mindset, i didn't try because i thought it wouldn't work or that it was "too good to be true" or whatever. the method was literally just keep going with my day knowing that i already had it. and oh my f*cking god.
i won't say it just "clicked" for me because i hear that a lot & i things that's just not how it works. at least i can't "click" with something i don't know. what i can say is that at first it wasn't easy, i still had some doubts, not gonna lie, but i just ignored them and keep going knowing that i already had it. i got used to it really fast, and THAT'S how i knew this was the way, because i felt liberated. if you read my blog you'll probably know i talk about that all the time, but my idea of manifesting is that it has to feel liberating, not like a chore, a price to your desires or anything else. i was liberated, because i knew it was done, that i had nothing to give in exchange, that i was free of the 3d & its circumstances. i was Me, and I was free.
this was the best thing i've ever done in my journey. in only one week, i've successfuly manifested:
money: (me and my family are kind of wealthy tbh, but i am bratty asf & always want more money to buy me things 😜😜) my mother recieved 200000 pesos (my country's currency) out of literally thin air on her bank account a random tuesday. she doesn't know who send it or why. i don't know about the u.s.a since there 200000 pesos are 200 dollars, but in our country, that's a LOT of money.
self confidence: i've been feeling super insecure lately. like, i am insecure since i have memory, but since this year started it has become WAY worse. i'd literally cry almost every night. now, i def wouldn't say it's all gone, but it's gotten much better. i've been feeling pretty lately, and if i didn't felt pretty, i would hardly think about my appearence at all this days. i am constantly feeling like i have one less weight on my back, which i am gratefull for :)
discipline: ngl i am forever a lazy girl and a foodie. I have always wanted to be more productive - study more, exercise more, talk to my loved ones more often and eat healthier, but discipline is something i struggle with a lot. however, since i have shown better discipline i have had some of the most useful days of my life: i went out with my friends three times in one week, ate much better than i usually do, exercised EVERY DAY without fail (even while on my period) slept well and passed all four exams this week with an 85/100 on my worst one and two 100s.
reciving a compliment in public: since i tried to start manifesting things that seem "easier" for me to acomplish, i tried manifesting this because it was rare but not impossible. so, like 3 days after i started to embody the state of someone who's always complimented by strangers, i went to the sjopping centre with my friend. then, two guys walked by us and one of them said "i want the instagram of that lady"! notice that during the whole time i was in the state, i visualized that people were asking me for my instagram + i've noted that when i'm in public, i catched people's eye more. yesterday, a guy won't stop looking at me in the café and i think he tried to approach me :)
i'll keep escalating on the "level of difficulty" of the things i manifest as my mentality becomes accustomed to the fact that everything is equally easy to manifest -which is a fact already, i just have a hard time accepting it-, and, of course, i'll be updating ;)
conclusion; look for what works for you. for what makes you feel good & secure that you have already what you want. search a "key" that makes you (actually) not give a f*ck about the 3d, if you have negative beliefs, don't ignore them. work from them, and of course, persist! let your mindset keep you on track.
that was all for today, love ya ♡
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queenshelby · 8 months
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Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)
PART 38: DANIELLE'S STATEMENT
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility
PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!
Cillian took the phone from Nina, reading the article out loud to you both. His face grew grim as he absorbed the contents, his expression mirroring your unease. You exchanged looks, knowing this was going to be a problem.
"Well, there's no denying it now," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
You bit your lip, trying to decide how to handle the situation. You felt your cheeks heat up as you imagined the consequences of what this may mean for you both. Not only was this humiliating for Cillian just before the BAFTAs, but also did it jeopardise your relationship with him, especially since, until now, he did not know about how you made your money in the past.
Cillian looked conflicted, torn between whether or not to address the situation, but you decided to break the silence first. 
"I did not mean to hide anything from you, Cillian but I was and still am utterly embarrassed by this," you said, tears welling up in your eyes.
"So, it is actually true?" Cillian asked with surprise, thinking that the tabloids had made up a story to make you look bad.
"Yes," you said, and this statement took courage, given the secrets you had kept thus far especially in front of Cillian's 14-year-old daughter Nina who, too, had to hear why you did what you did at such a young age. "It started when I was 16 actually. Not when I was 18. It was illegal but, when I went to high school, my forester parents didn't support me. They used the money they were given by the state to buy drugs and alcohol, so I needed to find a way to finance my studies. I worked at a strip club to pay for my tuition fees. It's not something I am proud of, and I have been trying hard to forget about it ever since," you explained, causing Cillian to swallow harshly before cupping your face.
"I am so sorry Cillian," you began to cry, and Cillian quickly shook his head. 
"Don't be, Y/N. I don't care where you come from or what you did. You are smart, beautiful, and funny. And I love you. That's all that matters to me," he replied earnestly, making you smile weakly through your tears.
Cillian caressed your cheek with his thumb, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "But I am sorry that you had to endure such shit upbringings and now have to endure this rubbish as well," he went on to say, his voice gentle yet firm. "We'll get through this together, okay?" he suggested, and a lump formed in your throat as you nodded, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand.
"This will look so bad for you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Cillian winced, looking genuinely hurt by the mention of his age. "I don't care what it looks like," he assured you. "What I care about is who you are, not where you're from or what you've done. If people can't see that, then they're not worth worrying about," he then reassured you before he drew you into a fierce embrace, his words offering solace and reassurance. 
You hugged him back, feeling your emotions spilling over. "Thank you, Cill. This means a lot to me," you whispered into his chest, and Cillian squeezed you tighter, his own heart swelling with pride and protectiveness.
Nina cleared her throat, breaking the tender moment. "I'm really sorry for interrupting you guys, but we need to talk about this. You are not going to let this slide, are you?" she said, gesturing towards the magazine. 
Cillian reluctantly released you, allowing you to compose yourself before speaking again.
"Look, it doesn't change anything between us," he pointed out to his daughter, trying to put her mind at ease before turning to you.
You nodded, trying to swallow down the lump forming in your throat. Silently, you agreed hesitantly, still processing the newfound information.
Cillian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. You took a deep breath, letting Cillian's warmth seep into your being.
"Can you say something back, dad?" Nina asked, her tone curious. 
"To the press?" he asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow in response to his daughter's question.
Nina scoffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "They always do this kind of thing. You're just an easy target because of your age difference with Y/N. Otherwise, no one would have cared. You need to make a statement or something," she commented, crossing her arms defensively.
Cillian sighed, running a hand through his hair once more in frustration. He despised engaging with reporters and gossip like this, but it seemed necessary in order to protect those closest to him - including you.
"Fuck," he cursed before picking up his phone from the bedside table and making a call to his publicity agent.
"Liam, listen. There's an article in OK! Magazine that you need to address. Can you please call me back?" he spoke sharply into the receiver, leaving a message for him. 
"Cill, I don't care. Don't do this for me," you told him after he hung up, but Cillian seemed determined. 
"But I care Y/N. This entire article is nonsense," he insisted, holding your gaze with intensity as he brushed his fingers through your hair, giving you a reassuring smile.  
"Just trust me on this, okay? Please," he requested softly; his eyes full of sincerity and you hesitated before finally nodding.
***
Several days later, and much to your surprise, you found yet another article about Cillian and you just as you packed your bag for your impending trip to London.
This article held a much different tone, and you were sure that Nina had something to do with it. 
Title: Cillian Murphy's Ex Danielle Speaks Out: "I'm Happy for Him and Our Kids"
In the world of showbiz, love knows no boundaries. And when it comes to the mesmerising actor Cillian Murphy, the news of his blossoming May-December romance with dance teacher and performer Y/N Y/LN raised a few eyebrows due to their 22-year age gap and Y/N’s troubled past. But fret not, dear readers, as the acclaimed actress Danielle Murphy, is here to set the record straight and endorse their relationship!
In an exclusive interview, Danielle Murphy opened up about her ex-husband's relationship, highlighting the wonderful role that Cillian’s new love interest plays in their lives. As it turns out, Y/N not only teaches dance, but she is also the instructor to Danielle and Cillian's daughter Nina who has built a strong relationship with her father’s new and much younger girlfriend.
"Dance has always been a big part of Nina's life, and I couldn't be more thrilled that Y/N teaches and mentors her," Danielle shared with a warm smile. "When you're co-parenting, especially with teenagers, having a positive and welcome addition like Y/N is truly a blessing."
It's heartwarming to see the understanding and maturity that exists between Danielle and Cillian, as they manage to navigate their separate lives while focusing on their children's well-being. The ex-couple's unwavering support for their children's passions has ultimately created a harmonious environment for all involved.
In her statement, Danielle strongly emphasised her happiness for Cillian and the joy he has found with Y/N. "Cillian deserves nothing but love and happiness, and if Y/N is the one that brings it to him, then so be it," she expressed. "I trust his judgment, and I trust that Y/N is a wonderful person who will genuinely cherish him as much as he deserves."
As a mother, Danielle emphasised the importance of her children's well-being and happiness. "At the end of the day, my children's happiness is my top priority," she stated sincerely. "And from what I can see, Cillian has found someone who genuinely cares for them which, ultimately, is everything I could ever ask for.”  
Indeed, this supportive stance from Danielle shows not only her maturity but also her immense love and respect for her soon-to-be ex-husband as the couple works through their divorce. It is truly commendable how ex-spouses can put aside any grievances for the sake of their children's happiness.
As the gossip mill churns, it's important to remember that love seems to know no boundaries. With Danielle's blessing and Cillian's unwavering support, Y/N finds solace in knowing they have won the hearts of those closest to Cillian and the children. These two individuals have gracefully risen above public judgment and are committed to prioritising love, family and the happiness of their children.
So, let's raise a glass to this modern family and their ability to find joy and harmony amidst the prying eyes of the world. Cheers to Cillian, Danielle, Y/N, and their beautiful blended family!
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lullabyes22-blog · 2 months
Text
Snippet - Jayce Goes Sleuthing - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO
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In the wake of Vi's departure, and Viktor's defection, Jayce's life falls apart.
Forward but Never Forget/XOXO
"Consider carefully. The Man of Tomorrow, Piltover's brightest mind, would look pretty dim in a prison jumpsuit."
Snippet:
Caitlyn—
I got your message this morning. I'm sorry it's taken so long to write. It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Not sure where to begin, so I guess I'll start with the most important thing:
I've resigned from the Council.
As of last week, I'm no longer a Councilor. Just a regular citizen. I know the news isn't official yet. There will be a special announcement later this week. It's pretty short-notice. I'm sure the media will have a field day.
Your Mother knows; I'm surprised she didn't tell you. Then again, the Council's been busy scrambling to find a replacement for Professor Heimerdinger. They've been hogtied in a bunch of other issues since Zaun's independence, too. There's been nothing but emergency sessions with the Zaunite Cabinet. So it's possible she didn't get a chance.
The motion for me to step down was unanimous. It's the right choice, and I'm at peace with it.
I'm sorry to hear about yours and Violet's split. It sounds like the two of you had a good thing going. She and I didn't really see eye to eye. But you seemed to care for her a lot. I had no idea there was a Peacekeeper Exchange Initiative happening—or that she'd been reassigned to Zaun. I saw no preliminary memos on the matter. If I had, maybe I could've done something to prevent it.
Then again, I've been so distracted lately. It wouldn't have surprised me if a hundred things slipped under my radar.
I understand you're concerned for her safety.  Near as my old contacts in the Council can tell me, her transfer has been approved. They've already conducted the ceremonial swearing-in, and the inaugural Peacekeeper Exchange Initiative has officially begun. They've been granted interim residency until the next rotation, six months from now.
There's not much that can be done to stop it. At least, not in the legal sense. My authority to intervene has run its course. And if the Council's being tightlipped, then Silco's people are pathologically silent.  The details of Violet's reassignment—where she'll stay, her duties, her work schedule—is all being kept private.  
I'm sorry, Cait. You're the last person who deserves this kind of heartbreak.
You've asked me to confront Mel. To convince her to stop Vi's transfer, or pull the plug on the whole project.
Sadly, I can't do either of those things.
Mel and I are no longer together. It was a mutual decision. She's no longer my mentor, and I'm no longer her protégé. She's made her position on forging diplomatic ties with Zaun's First Chancellor clear. I've made equally clear my distaste on trying to spin blood money into gold. We're both determined to follow through, and I don't see a way of changing that.
Guess it's heartbreaks all around, huh?
Maybe it's necessary. Maybe we're supposed to hurt so we can grow. I think I've gotten a little too comfortable in my cushy Council chair. It's high time I got back to the grind. I wanted to build a better world. That means I need to put the work in at HexCorp to make it happen.
We'll get through this, Cait. You and me. Let's meet up once things have calmed down. I miss our talks. I need some sane company after weeks of listening to politicians bicker.
If there's anything I can do, please let me know.
Fondly,
Jayce
*
Cait—
Viktor's gone.
He's been missing since last Wednesday. The reason the Enforcers haven't been informed yet is because the Council is keeping it under wraps. But they've alerted the Wardens, and they're conducting a private investigation. Viktor's notes are gone from the lab. His apartment has been ransacked. All the Hex-tech prototypes are missing. 
So is the Hexcore.
I'm worried. Not because the Hexcore could be turned into a weapon of mass destruction. Viktor's been under a great deal of strain. He's not well. I don't want him getting hurt. The fact that all his research has been taken—it makes no sense. He could've been abducted, but there's no ransom note. None of his assistants noticed any signs of foul play. 
There's also been no sightings of Sky Young. Or any traces of her remains.
Cait—I don't want to add to your troubles. But I don't know who else to share this with. I trust you. I value your insight.
And the truth is, I'm a little scared.
The Wardens are suggesting Viktor's gone rogue. More than that. They're speculating that he may be linked to Sky's disappearance. Their inquisitor told me that his behavior during their last interrogation was erratic. That he'd showed signs of paranoia. That he'd withheld key details about Sky's last hours, and lied about the last time he'd seen her.
They're considering the possibility that Viktor was involved in her disappearance.
Cait—I think it's bullshit. Viktor wouldn't harm a fly. He's one of the gentlest souls I've ever known. He's dedicated his life to serving Piltover, and making it a better place. And he’s known Sky since they were children. I never saw anything but respect between them. Her disappearance hit him hard. I was with him when the preliminary investigation was being conducted.
I can tell you: he wasn't faking his grief.
Something else is going on. I don't know what.
But I'm going to find out.
In the meantime, I'm sorry I can't be of more help with tracking down Violet. I don't have any pull with the Wardens, or Silco's administration. And my contacts on the Council won't talk.  Try reaching out to your mother. She's the only one I know who can reasonably intervene. At the very least, she can get her sources to conduct a quiet search.
I know it's not the solution you wanted. I know the stakes are high.
I just want you to know you're not alone.
Warm regards,
Jayce
*
Caitlyn—
It's late, and I know you're probably sleeping. Still, I had to write. Something happened tonight.
The Wardens found Viktor.
He's been located in Zaun. Specifically, at the headquarters of First Chancellor Silco. They're claiming he's defected. What's more, they're stating that he's in collaboration with a notorious chemist, formerly known as Colin Reveck, but currently known as "Singed." The doctor has a record for performing unethical experiments.
He's also rumored to be responsible for the creation of Shimmer.
The Wardens received clearance to access Viktor's medical records. They found traces of Shimmer in his blood samples. Apparently, Viktor's been on the drug for months. He's been hiding the side-effects. There is evidence that he's been taking massive doses. It's been compromising his mind.
And now, according to the Wardens, he's a wanted fugitive.
Sky Young's DNA has been found on his personal belongings.
I can't believe it, Cait. This isn't the man I know. Viktor would never harm Sky. Never. And with his medical condition, he'd be too weak to physically attack her. As for the Shimmer—he's always been adamant about never touching drugs. Or stimulants of any kind. One cup of caffeine was enough to get him buzzed.
He wouldn't take that poison, even in his darkest hours.
Something isn't adding up.
The Council are currently in talks with Zaun's Cabinet. They're demanding that Viktor and the Hexcore be handed over. The Wardens are pushing for extradition.  Mel has been trying—unsuccessfully—to reach First Chancellor Silco. He's been unavailable since last afternoon.
This is bad.
I've got a sinking feeling. Viktor's research—the Hexcore—it's the key to unlocking a whole stratum of potential weaponry. The fact that he's now in Zaun, under Silco’s aegis, isn't a coincidence. Silco's notoriously secretive, but we know that he has an extensive network of spies and informants. If he saw a chance to use Viktor's illness against him, and profit off his genius, he'd seize it without a second thought.
That's exactly what I think is happening.
Viktor's not a criminal. And he didn't disappear of his own volition. Silco must've had a hand in it.
I'm going to figure out how.
Take care of yourself, okay? Please. I've already lost my brother. I can't lose my best friend too.
Be safe. I'll keep in touch.
Jayce
*
Cait—
Sorry I took off so early yesterday. There was no time. The Council had an emergency meeting with HexCorp, and I was summoned as its representative.
Things have escalated. Zaun's Cabinet has denied extradition. They claim that Viktor's entry into Zaun was perfectly legal. What's more, they state that the Hexcore, as one of Viktor's primary inventions, is his to take wherever he chooses. They even claim that the Hexcore is a prototype and, therefore, not an official piece of HexCorp's patented technology.
I'd expected the Council to push back. Instead—and I can't believe I'm writing this—they've acquiesced.
I was speechless. 
The Council's position is that, as a scientist, Viktor has a right to his intellectual property. I argued that we'd both worked on the Hexcore as a team. Therefore, it was ours. They pointed to our original patent agreement, and the fine print that gives us equal, but not joint, ownership. They also reminded me that, as Viktor was from the Fissures, he was legally a foreigner under Piltover's laws.
I remember, during my tenure as a Councilor, pushing for months to get that stupid provision removed, and having my proposal shot down.
Now it's bit the entire city in the ass.
Cait—I'm ashamed to say it. But I lost my temper. In the middle of the meeting, I slammed my fist on the table and demanded to know why the hell they were backing down. Didn't we have the resources, and the right, to protect those who'd served us? Even if Viktor had exited under a cloud, didn't his deteriorating health and the danger the Hexcore posed justify both their retrieval?
Why, I wanted to know, weren't they summoning Silco here to account for his actions? Why weren't they threatening his administration with military force if he refused to cooperate? Didn't he owe us an explanation as to how our greatest innovator had come into contact with him?
It was Mel who answered. She explained that Silco's administration is a sovereign entity. We don't have the authority to demand an audience, nor the leverage to force his cooperation. We're not even legally bound to warn him. Zaun's Cabinet has the right to act independently of our influence. And, as for Silco's personal agenda, that is beyond the Council's purview. He's not obliged to share his secrets. It's his prerogative, not ours.
In other words, we don't have a leg to stand on.
I was so mad. So mad. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe them. It was the same shit I'd had to deal with when I'd first been nominated as Councilor. Except that time, it was the bureaucracy that was hamstringing me. This time, it's the people who I worked with. People who swore to protect our citizens. Who pledged to defend Piltover's principles.
And who are now acting like cowards, unwilling to do what's necessary.
I called them on it. In front of the entire assembly. I asked them where their courage had gone. Why they weren't fighting. Why they weren't even trying. Was this what Piltover was going to become? A society that allowed its greatest minds to be suborned? What the hell were they planning to do when the next inventor came under Silco's spell? Were they going to give up then, too?
The meeting ended shortly afterwards.
 Mel tried to catch me in the hallway, but I was having none of it. She cornered me by the stairs. She wanted to know if I'd reconsider resigning. If we could talk.
I'll admit I was tempted. I haven't seen her since our split, and it's been hard. I miss her. It'd be nice to just hold her, even for a few minutes. To feel sane again. Safe. I know we can't rekindle things. Not with her position, and mine. But a hug, a kiss, some conversation...anything would've been good.
I turned her down.
I said we had nothing to discuss. That she'd made her position clear, and it was not one I agreed with. I asked her what the point of continuing the conversation was if we couldn't agree on the most fundamental matters. If we'd end up arguing over the same things again. I didn't have time for it. My focus had to be on Viktor. On finding a way to bring him home. And if she wasn't willing to help, then we had nothing else to talk about.
She told me I was being foolish. That I'd let my emotions blind me. That my stubbornness was going to be the death of me.
I told her I was fine with that. Because the alternative would be dying inside. That I wasn't willing to let Silco's take everything from me.
Especially not Viktor. 
Cait, let's meet. Soon. We've got a lot to discuss. And I can't do this alone.
Jayce.
*
Cait— 
This is going to be a quick one.
The Council and Zaun's Cabinet have arranged a summit. It's slated for next week. Silco is going to attend. We'll be discussing the terms for Viktor's return, and the repatriation of the Hexcore. Mel has been working to make it happen. It's the first sign of progress. It gives me hope. And it's a chance for me to confront Silco directly.
I'm not going to rest until Viktor's back where he belongs.
I'll ask Silco about Violet. I'll corner him in private, if I have to. I'm not sure how the two of them are connected. If they are, at all. But it can't hurt. And the more I can get him talking, the more opportunities I'll have to figure out what the hell is really going on. What he wants. And why.
I'll send a follow-up letter once I've got more information.
Stay strong. And, whatever happens, please don't lose faith. Piltover needs your courage. So do I.
Jayce.
*
Caitlyn,
I'm so sorry. I need to vent. Too much has happened.
Viktor's staying in Zaun. 
So is the Hexcore.
Negotiations fell through. I don't know why. Silco showed up, and he was civil. More than that, actually. He was polite. He shook hands. He thanked the Council for reaching out, and expressed his appreciation at their willingness to compromise. He'd brought along his Deputy and a few members his Cabinet. They were well-dressed, professional. I was impressed. I was relieved. I'd come prepared to do battle, but he seemed determined to cooperate.
Then it all went to shit.
Cait, I can't explain it. But the whole thing felt... staged. Like Silco already knew how it was going to end. Like the Council had already signed off on some private deal, and were simply going through the motions. Mel opened with the usual pleasantries. She asked Silco about his health. His administration. His relationship with Zaun's citizens.
The latter question was a nod to me. A subtle signal that she was leaving the floor open for me to address him.
I did. I'd been preparing for weeks. I'd even gone over my questions with some of the other Councilors. They'd all agreed that the issue had to be addressed. If the Council was serious about building diplomatic ties, and creating a sustainable rapport with Zaun, then Silco's conduct had to be taken seriously. And he couldn't be given an inch.
He needed to be confronted.
So, as soon as the pleasantries were finished, I asked him what his plans were for the Hexcore. For the Peacekeeper Exchange Initiative. Why, if he was a man of the people, was he taking a magical relic that was potentially volatile out of our control? How was it serving his citizens, or the people who'd been entrusted to his care? How was it serving his principles?
And, most importantly, where the hell was Viktor, and what the hell was his game?
Silco smiled.
The bastard actually smiled.
Then he showed me a letter, in Viktor's handwriting, addressed to the Council. It stated that, because of his deteriorating health, he'd chosen to relocate back home. He wrote that there was only so much treatment the doctors at Piltover could provide. Eventually, he'd need more intensive care. And, as a Zaunite, he was entitled access to the physician of his choosing.
His physician was Colin Reveck.
Singed.
Apparently, if Viktor's letter was to be believed, Singed had known Viktor for years. As a chemist, he had a keen understanding of the disease affecting Viktor's lungs. And he'd been working with him on an experimental treatment. That was the reason Shimmer was in Viktor's bloodstream.
It was an integral part of the therapy. Without it, he'd have died long ago.
Silco also presented records of his conversations with Viktor, during which Viktor had confessed to feeling ostracized in Piltover. To having been made to feel bypassed, not only by the Council, but by his own peers.
By me.
Sky's disappearance had hit him hard, and the strain of maintaining his career and his health had left him emotionally depleted. He'd been forced to make a choice, and he'd chosen life.
He'd chosen Zaun.
I demanded proof. I said there was no way Viktor would write a letter like that. That there was no way he'd willingly choose to work with someone like Singed. He'd always despised putting morality aside for progress. He'd never approved of using animals as test subjects. Or people. I accused Silco of lying. Of blackmailing Viktor, or worse.
Silco showed me a photo.
I'll spare you the worse details. It was Viktor, yes. Definitely him. But the man in the picture looked nothing like my friend. He was... augmented. All over. He had metal plates across his face. There are mechanical appendages in place of his hands. There's gears, and cogs, and wires, on his torso. His throat is encased in a tube, and there is an equalizer outfitted to his chest.
Even his eyes are different. They're no longer his natural color. They're yellow and black. Like hazard lights.
And they glow.
Cait, it was like something out of a nightmare. He looked—he looked like an automaton. Like a cyborg. It wasn't a person anymore. It was a machine. Something created by a mad scientist, and brought to life by evil sorcery.
The timestamp on the photo was two weeks ago. When Viktor was first reported missing. That meant that, between then and now, Viktor had undergone a terrible transformation.
He'd become something inhuman.
Cait, I've known Viktor for years. I've known him better than anyone. But right then, I didn't recognize him. Not even a little bit. And, when I looked up at Silco, I saw him watching me. Watching the horror in my face. Smiling.
Smiling like the Devil himself.
I could've hit him. I would've hit him. Right then and there. But the Councilors intervened. Their security pulled me back. Mel tried to talk me down, but I was too furious. I couldn't believe what I'd seen. I couldn't believe he'd had the nerve to show it. To shove it in our faces. I couldn't believe the Viktor he'd shown me was real.
But it was.
The photograph's been vetted. It's the real deal. So is Viktor's signature. His handwriting hasn't changed. It's been matched to several official documents. His letter, which was accompanied by a medical report from Singed, has also been examined. And, while we've been unable to corroborate its contents, the letter itself has passed a rigorous authenticity test.
Viktor is alive.
And he's staying in Zaun. Under Silco's care.
He's been provided an apartment, a generous stipend, and a state-of-the-art lab. He's been placed in charge of an expanding Hex and chem-tech research division, and given a team of assistants. He's been granted unrestricted access to Zaun's medical facilities for his treatment, and all the resources necessary to conduct his experiments.
All of which are in collaboration with Singed.
There's nothing we can do, Cait. Absolutely nothing. Silco's got him locked in a golden cage. He's using Viktor's genius to advance his agenda, and the fact that he's been augmented is proof that he's not above forcing him into compliance.
Viktor's a casualty. And we're the ones who lost him.
It's all my fault.
They've scheduled a forty-five-minute recess. We'll take a break, then resume for the next session. After that, there'll be a dinner. And more discussions. I can't. I just can't. This is all wrong. Everything. My best friend is gone. Mel and I are no longer together. And the Council. They've failed. Failed us. Failed the city. Failed Viktor.
And something tells me it's going to get a whole lot worse.
Cait, please be patient. I still need to ask Silco about Violet. And I'll do everything I can. You have my word.
Jayce.
*
Cait—
The summit's over. Silco and his people have left.
 And good riddance. I never want to see his rotten face again.
Cait, the whole thing was a sham. A total sham. From beginning to end. Nothing meaningful came out of the meetings. Silco didn't answer a single question. The Council wouldn't hold him to account.  Instead, they started discussing the crisis as if it was a business merger. As if it was some kind of deal to be brokered, and a mutually beneficial arrangement to be made.
Silco had the gall to suggest a compromise.  He said that Viktor, as a Zaunite, should be allowed to continue his research on the Hexcore. In return, the Council will be permitted to oversee his future Hextech projects. Both cities will collaborate to conduct a monthly audit via a joint Oversight Committee. They'd guarantee a set number of patents, and a share of the profits, and even provide funding for further innovations.
I argued that this was unacceptable. It would give the Council no actual leverage, and would only make them complicit in Viktor's subjugation. That they'd be signing a blank check. And that, by working with Silco, we'd be condoning his crimes.
The Council said nothing. They didn't support me. They didn't even try.
Mel agreed with Silco.
I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it, Cait. She sided with him. With him!
She said the Council had to think long-term, and that, if we wanted peace, we needed to start acting like the world leaders we claimed to be. She pointed to the economic benefits, and the opportunities the new alliance could create. She reminded everyone that Viktor was a free man, and that he was the one who'd made the decision.
As far as she was concerned, it was his right.
I was outraged. I told her this wasn't the time for political theater or corporate speak. This was a human being's life we were talking about. And Viktor wasn't free. He was a hostage. If the Council really wanted to serve their citizens, they'd stand up to Silco. They'd demand the repatriation of the Hexcore. Then they'd demand Viktor's release.
And they'd use every means possible to get him back.
Then Silco dropped a bombshell.
He said, as thanks for the Council's cooperation in facilitating Viktor's "return" to Zaun, he'd make a gesture of goodwill. He'd draft legislation to outlaw the production of Shimmer as a narcotic, and to ban its distribution for recreational purposes. And, to prove his intentions were sincere, he'd have the new law approved by a vote, and the legislation made public. Only medicinal uses, he stressed, would remain legal.
The Council, he went on to suggest, could enact a blanket embargo on Shimmer's importation. Points of entry would be monitored, and Piltover would take steps to crack down on illegal trafficking. It would send a message to Piltover's allies, that Zaun was serious about pursuing the path of legitimacy. And that its partnership with Piltover was a symbol of that intent.
I was shocked.
So was Mel. And the rest of the Council. This wasn't what anyone had been expecting. This wasn't the Silco we'd known. He was offering to put himself in our debt. To cut ties with the illegal drug trade, and to allow the Council the opportunity to enforce sanctions against bad actors.
It was a major concession.  It would effectively eliminate a key revenue stream in Silco's operation, and cripple the underworld's most valuable market.
Cait, I'll admit it.
I didn't see the trap until it was too late.
Silco doesn't need to distribute Shimmer within his city anymore. Because he's got the Hexcore. And it's capable of making breakthroughs in science and magic, beyond anything we've ever known. He's got some of the world's greatest innovators under his thumb. The only limits are their imaginations.
With the fruits of their labor—and the Council's backing—investors will flock to Zaun. Capital will pour in. The city will grow. Its economy will flourish.
No drugs needed.
I was the only one who spoke out against it. I felt like a complete jerk. But I had to state my case. I argued that the Council had to consider the risks. That we couldn't trust Silco, no matter how immaculately he dressed up his proposal. Who was to say he wouldn't take the Council's investment and put it into other ventures? What if he began funneling the investors' coin, and used it to finance bioweapons? What if he turned Zaun into an armory, right under Piltover's feet?
And, even if he did give up the drug trade, what about his human trafficking? His smuggling? The brothels, and the illegal casinos, and the underground fighting pits?
What about his ties to organized crime?
The Council dismissed my concerns.
They were eager. Eager to shake hands. Eager to sign on the dotted line. Eager to move forward.
The deal, Mel explained, would be the cornerstone of a lasting relationship between Zaun and Piltover. The Council's approval was vital. It would lend a stamp of legitimacy to Zaun's new order. And, she stated, it was the only way to avoid future conflict.
I was disgusted.
She was trying to sell the summit as a success. Like we hadn't given up a critical piece of our national defense, and put it into the hands of a foreign dictator. Like Silco hadn't blackmailed Viktor, or taken advantage of his illness, or exploited his vulnerability. Like he wasn't an abusive tyrant who ruled by fear, and murdered in cold blood.
Like he hadn't just gotten away with everything.
Cait, I can't tell you what happened. I don't have the words. I was angry. So, so angry. And disappointed. With the Council. With Mel. With myself. I couldn't stand to be there a moment longer.
So I walked out.
After the summit, I waited to catch Silco in the lobby. He was heading towards his limo. There were no security personnel. Just him and his Deputy Chancellor and a blackguard. He was smoking a cigar, and strolling like a man with all the time in the world.
I didn't say a word. I didn't hesitate. I grabbed him and pinned him against the wall.
I told him he had a choice. Either he could hand over Viktor and the Hexcore, or I'd beat the truth out of him.
The bastard smiled. He smiled at me.
Then he said, "Pet."
Someone grabbed me from behind. An arm went around my throat. A hand wrenched my elbow behind my back. I struggled, but couldn't break free. The grip was like iron.  I half-turned, expecting to see Silco's Deputy. It was the blackguard.
Cait...
It was Violet.
She was in a full-on bodyguard get-up. Black suit. Black shirt. Black visor. Black boots. Her was cropped short, and she'd gained muscle. She looked lean, and hard, and strong.
Like a soldier.
She didn't say a word. She kept me in a sleeper hold, until the Deputy arrived with security. I don't know how many Councilors saw me in that position. I don't know what they must've been thinking, or what they must’ve been saying.
I was seeing stars. I was dizzy. I could barely breathe.
Then Silco said, "Drop him."
Violet obeyed.
When I came to, I was on my knees. My neck hurt. My arm hurt. My head was pounding. It was hard to focus. Then two steel-tipped boots materialized in my line of sight. I looked up, and there was Silco, staring down at me.
He was calm. Collected. Completely at ease.
"You'll have to forgive her," he said. "She's still being trained."
Cait, he knew.
He knew I'd ask him about Violet. He knew you'd placed inquiries looking for her. He knew we were concerned for her wellbeing.
So he'd had her accompany him to the summit, as a deliberate provocation.
He was taunting us both.
"I'd advise you, as a personal favor, to not try this again," he said. "If you do, you may find the outcome... less forgiving."
I told him to go fuck himself.
I think he smiled. It's hard to remember.
With a fingertip, he gestured Violet over. She came. I'll never forget that. The way she obeyed. Without hesitation. Without question. Not once did she acknowledge my presence. I still remember when I'd drop by for tea sometimes at your flat, and she'd scowl when she saw me. Or roll her eyes. Or say, "Oh, look. Pretty-Boy's here."
There was none of that. Nothing. Just total silence.
Total obedience.
Then Silco took her by the chin.
"There's a good girl," he said, and stroked her cheek.
 It made my skin crawl.
I told myself it was because of Silco. Since the Siege, I'd been looking into his past, and there's enough material in the dossiers to turn your blood to icewater. I can't imagine the psychic price of serving that monster. I can't even imagine the pressure of being a blackguard at his beck-and-call.
I told myself it was the thought of Violet at his mercy, night after night. I told myself it was because she'd lost her autonomy. That she was trapped. That she was under duress.
I told myself that's why my gut was churning.
I'm sorry, Cait.
That's not the truth.
The truth is, I wasn't scared of Silco.
I was scared of Violet.
No—I was terrified.
Cait—there was a look in her eyes. I don't know how to describe it. A coldness, almost. Like she wasn't seeing me, or the Deputy, or anyone. Only Silco. She didn't flinch when he touched her. She didn't even blink. She was completely unmoved. Like a soldier on the parade ground.
Like a weapon waiting to open fire.
The limo pulled up. Silco and his Deputy got inside. I remember Vi holding the door open for them. And I remember her turning, one last time, to look at me.
There was nothing in her face. No emotion. No recognition. No regret.
Just empty.
Then she got inside, and the door swung shut. They drove off.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Cait, it's all I can think about. How different she looks. How hard she seems. And that stare. That terrifying, horrible stare.
What the hell did Silco do to her?
Cait, I'm coming to visit. We have a lot to talk about.
Jayce
*
Cait—
I have news.
Big news.
After I left your flat, I went straight home. A courier had just dropped a missive off at my place.
It was from the Wardens.
Their theory on Viktor being responsible for Sky's disappearance is crumbling. Despite their suspicions that Viktor was the last man to see her, their investigation has been unable to locate a single shred of evidence.
Viktor's laboratory is clean. No fingerprints, no signs of foul play, no indication of a struggle. Even the cameras, which the Wardens have accessed using a subpoena, showed no signs of her leaving with him. Her clothes, and belongings, were still inside the building. And her bike was still parked outside.
They're still not sure how she vanished. It's like she was swallowed up by a black hole.
As for the DNA—a secondary lab test revealed it was a mistake. Just a case of cross-contamination. They'd mistaken an old sample from a previous search in Sky's apartment. The report had gotten mixed up with Viktor's case file. The mistake had been made by an intern, who'd mislabeled a sample, and the senior investigators had simply repeated the error.
All in all, it was a complete botch-up.
The evidence is circumstantial. There's nothing that implicates Viktor.
For now, they've dropped charges.
I should be thankful. I know Viktor hasn't committed any crimes, and there's no concrete evidence of his guilt. It was a stretch to accuse him of involvement in Sky's disappearance.
But now there's a nagging doubt in the back of my mind. The timing's too convenient.  First the Council caves to Zaun, and lets Viktor remain as Silco's prisoner. Now the Wardens have decided, of their own accord, not to press charges.
It makes no sense.
Worse, my own mind's playing tricks on me. I keep replaying the night Sky was reported missing. How distraught Viktor was. How he could barely speak. Barely look at me. He was a wreck, and I believed his distress was sincere. I'd told the Wardens, time and again, that there was no way Viktor had done anything to harm Sky.
I'd vouched for him.
Now, though...now, I'm not so sure.
The thing is, we still don't have all the facts from that night. Sky was last seen exiting her office at eight o' clock. The cameras see her walking down the main corridor. Then, at nine thirty, her assistant goes in to check on her, and finds her gone. Her bike's still there. Her street clothes are still on the rack. All her possessions are still inside.
But no Sky.
Where the hell did she go?
The cameras don't show her exiting the building. Which means she must still be in there. Except there's no trace of her. None. 
Then it hit me.
The Hex-lab—mine and Viktor's workspace—had no cameras. A security camera had been installed, but Viktor had requested it be removed. He'd said, and I quote, "We are scientists. Our work necessitates a degree of privacy." It was part of our terms with the Council, and an addendum to our patent agreement. The lab would be kept off-limits, except to those involved with the project.
Viktor, Sky, and I were the only one who had the keycard.
And Viktor was the only person in the lab that night.
Caitlyn—I'm worried. It's possible I've made a terrible mistake. I've been so fixated on finding Viktor, I haven't stopped to ask myself why. Why would Viktor disappear without a word? Why would he take all his notes, abandon his post, and go into hiding? Why wouldn't he ask me for help? Or at least leave a note?
I've been thinking—what if he doesn't want to be found?
What if something bad happened between him and Sky? Something so terrible, he had no choice but to run?
Cait, please—help me figure this out.
Your friend,
Jayce.
*
Cait,
I had a fight with Mel.
I'm ashamed to say it. To be honest, it's embarrassing. I've never raised my voice at her before. Or sworn at her. Or, frankly, behaved like such a prick.
Here's what happened.
After my talk with you, I went straight to her penthouse. I was in a bad place. I'd hit the bar—awful idea, I know—and then gone for a walk. It was raining. I ended up in one of the city's parks. It's near her place. I sat on a bench and tried to get my thoughts together. Everything—why Viktor could've left, why Sky might've disappeared, why  the Council were so willing to negotiate with Silco—was running through my head.
I just wanted to talk. I wanted a friend. I wanted her.
Cait—you told me how hard it's been since Violet left. How much you've been hurting. Not the everyday stuff. I know about that. But it's the other things, too. Like how you don't feel like yourself anymore. Like there's something hollow in you, that only she can fill. And nights are the worst. You miss the closeness. You miss the warmth.
And, Gods help me, the sex.
That's the part I miss the most. I can't tell you how many times I've woken up at night, dreaming about Mel, and I've had to stop myself from calling her up at four o'clock in the morning.
It's hard, Cait. Being apart. It's really hard.
I know how you feel. So you'll understand perfectly why I went to see Mel. I know we broke things off. I know it was my decision. And, no, I didn't expect us to pick up where we'd left off.
I just wanted someone to talk to.
Before I knew it, I was at her penthouse. I was soaked, and cold, and drunk. It was the middle of the night. But the doorman recognized me. He let me in, and called ahead to let her know.
She was waiting for me.
I'll never forget how she looked, Cait. She was wearing a silk robe.  One of my favorites: all white lace and gold brocade. Her hair was loose, and it smelled like hyacinths. You know, I've never told you this, but I used to comb Mel's hair before bed. I wasn't very good at it. Sometimes I'd end up pulling too hard. But she'd smile, each time, and show me the trick to gently working through the knots. She'd kiss my hands. Then she'd kiss me.
Then—
Well, I think you know.
Seeing her again. Seeing her so soft, and warm, and lovely. It took my breath away.
It took everything.
Cait, I'm not going to lie. We ended up in bed. She said she'd missed me. And, damn it, I'd missed her. So much.
So very, very much.
I can't say I don't love her. How can I not? She's smart, and gorgeous, and funny. She's passionate. She's fearless. And I admire her. She has a way of commanding a room, but also of making every single person feel heard. She makes me feel heard. When I talk to her, I feel like I can say anything. Do anything. Be anything.
I needed that. I needed her.
She felt the same.
It was beautiful. Intimate. Wonderful. Sure at first, we were both a little awkward, and clumsy, and I'd forgotten to shave the past few days. But, after a few minutes, we were like two people who'd never left each other. Two people who'd never been apart.
Two people in love.
When we finished, we held each other. Then she kissed my cheek, and whispered in my ear, "Jayce, darling... you're home."
And, Cait, it felt like it. Like I'd finally come home.
It's not until after I'd showered, and was heading back into the bedroom, that the doubts crept in. Those nagging little doubts. Things I'd pushed down. Things I didn't want to confront. Like how the Council and Silco seemed to be on the same page in advance.  Like how they were giving him carte blanche to exploit a man's genius, and use it for their own gains.
Like how Mel, out of everyone, seemed to know exactly what Silco was thinking.
Like she was expecting it.
I slipped back into bed with Mel, and I held her. Still, the questions came in my head. They came quietly, at first. Softly. Then, as the silence between us grew, they began to gain volume. Until I was sure she could hear them too.
Then I asked her the question.
"Why didn't you fight?"
At first, she pretended not to understand. So I said it again, louder.
"Why didn't you fight, Mel? Why didn't the Council?"
She turned. She was looking at me. Searching my face.
"You had a chance," I told her. "You could've fought for Viktor. You could've fought for me. Why didn't you?"
There was a long silence.
"I didn't have a choice," she said.
"Bullshit."
"It's the truth. I didn't. Jayce—you don't understand. There's more at stake than just the Hexcore. It's a small piece of a bigger issue. That issue being—how can we maintain our peace with Zaun. You have to understand. It's not only about your friend."
"Viktor. His name is Viktor."
"Viktor, yes. But we need to think of the whole picture. It's not just him. It's our trade agreements. It's our economic stability. It's our reputation as a city. As the City of Progress."
"So it's not important, what's happening to him. Because he's not a Piltovan, he's expendable."
"That's not what I'm saying. Please. Don't twist my words."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that a single man, or his personal rights, cannot eclipse the good of a city. You've been obsessed. You've been chasing shadows, instead of addressing the real problems."
"Like the Council selling out their best innovator to a dictator."
For the first time, her eyes disconnected from mine. "He isn't a dictator."
"Isn't he? What do you call someone who murders his way to the top, and uses his power to enslave his citizens?"
"We've held discussions, Silco and I. He wants prosperity for his city. Freedom for his people. I want the same for ours. To achieve that, we must compromise on certain issues. He's no model of merciful leadership, I grant you. But he's a pragmatic man. A visionary. Someone who can bring lasting change."
"He's a monster."
"Jayce. Darling. Your anger blinds you. I know he's committed terrible crimes. And yes, we've made deals that neither of us is pleased with. But, in the end, the outcome is worth the price. Our cities will grow together. We'll create a lasting, sustainable peace."
"At the cost of my best friend'."
"Viktor chose to leave. It's his right."
"Only because he had no choice. He couldn't stay in Piltover. Not with the Wardens falsely accusing him."
"Jayce—" A shadow fell across her face. "Please. Stop. This isn't getting us anywhere. Can't you see that? If you keep on fighting, you're only going to make things worse."
"Worse for who? The Council?"
"For Viktor. And... for you."
There was something in her eyes. Something... dark. Almost desperate.
"Please, Jayce. You need to trust me. I have your best interests at heart. I've been working to protect you. You've no idea the things I've—" She cut herself off.
I asked her what she was talking about. I asked her what the hell was going on.
That's when she told me.
Cait, the Warden's investigation? Mel is the one who called it off. Not because of inconclusive evidence. Not because of the waste of resources. Not because the security camera footage was inconclusive.
She called it off, because the Wardens had irrefutable proof that Viktor had killed Sky.
It wasn't just the fact that he was the last man to see Sky alive. Or the fact that she was last seen near the corridor to the Hex-lab. 
It was the fact that, in the lab itself, they found Sky.
Or rather, her bone dust.
It was everywhere. Motes of it, on the floor. On the chairs. On the workbench. Someone had tried to clean it up, but not thoroughly. Not enough to remove the residue. And the forensics team had been able to confirm, using chemical analysis, that the samples were mixed with Viktor's DNA.
His, and no one else's.
The Wardens were set to launch an arrest warrant. Then Mel had intervened.
"It would've been a disaster," she told me. "A disaster for him. A disaster for Zaun. And for us. I had no choice, Jayce. None."
I was shocked. My brain couldn't comprehend what she was saying. It was impossible. Viktor wasn't a murderer. He couldn't be. He just couldn't.
I asked her if Silco knew.
She admitted that he did. He was the one, in fact, who'd tipped the Wardens off. Apparently, a remark Viktor had made during a conversation with his Deputy Chancellor had caught Silco's attention. He'd sent a blackguard to Viktor's lab, on the pretext of collecting leftover notes. During a search, the blackguard found traces of bone dust. He collected the sample and turned it over to the Wardens.
There were no signs of tampering. The evidence was months old.  And it was damning.
"I can't believe this." I whispered.
Mel put her arms around me. She held me tight.
"Jayce," she said. "I'm sorry. Silco and I—we decided that the best thing would be for Viktor to remain in Zaun. For the charges to be dropped. So long as he confines his work to the Fissures, he'll have complete freedom. But should he return to Piltover..."
She didn't finish.
She didn't need to.
Cait, the Council and Silco. They've conspired against Viktor. Against both of us. They're letting him remain in Zaun, so that he can continue his research on the Hexcore. But, should he return, he'll be arrested.
And I'll be forced to testify.
It was too much. The idea that my best friend could be a killer. The fact that Mel knew. That she'd been complicit. The betrayal, by the Council, who'd gone along with it all. The duplicity. The corruption.
It was just too much.
I couldn't stop myself. I lost control. I leapt out of bed. I shouted. I called her a liar. I asked her how she could do it. How she could let him stay, and put him in danger. How she could be so calculating. So cold.
So much like... Silco.
She didn't answer. She was crying. I've never seen Mel cry. Never.
And, Gods help me, I didn't care.
Cait, I stormed out of her flat. I left her there, in tears.
I can't go back. I can't forgive her. I can't forgive myself.
I'm writing you now from a bar. It's three o' clock in the morning. I can't go home. I can't bear to sleep. I can't stop thinking. About the summit. About Mel. About Viktor.
About the future.
Cait, please help.
I'm lost.
Jayce
*
Jayce—
Destroy this message the minute you read it. You're being monitored.
Your apartment is being watched.
Your office, too.
I know, because so is mine.
Silco knows you're trying to make contact with Viktor. He knows I'm trying to reach out to Vi. The only reason he's permitted you to communicate with me is to bait a trap. I've gone back and deleted every missive I've written to you. Do the same. You need to watch your back. If the Wardens find out you've been trying to make contact with a suspected killer, it's not just your career.
It's your freedom.
You're a private citizen now. They won't hesitate to arrest you. And I won't be able to stop them.
Jayce, this is serious.
You're a hero. You're the face of Hextech. You've changed the world. You can't afford to throw it away. If you get caught, it'll be catastrophic.
Please. I'm begging you. You have to stop.
We can't contact each other via missive. Not until I can figure a way out of this.
Caitlyn
*
Caitlyn,
Don't worry. I won't put you in danger. I've found a workaround. I've created a secure channel, which will allow us to correspond without being intercepted. I've also modified the pneumatic tubes. It will take some time, but I can rig a system, which will ensure the messages are delivered directly to your desk.
I need a favor.
Your department has access to the Warden's database. How high is your clearance? Can you get access to their records on Sky? I'd like to have a look at their files.
I'll explain when I see you.
Jayce
*
Jayce,
I got in.
Here are the files.
Hurry. I don't know how long the clearance will last.
Cait
*
Cait—
Thank you.
This is incredible. You're amazing.
I've been reading through the records. It's difficult, because a lot of stuff has been redacted. But I've managed to piece together the timeline of Sky's disappearance. It's hard to believe, but the case has been open since the day she went missing. It's bigger than the Wardens let on to the Council.
There's more here than I expected.
According to the records, the Wardens were already investigating Viktor.  He'd been placed on their Watch List, under suspicion of having ties with the Undercity's chemists. It was a flimsy pretext, and he wasn't a suspect. Just a person of interest.
They were tracking his movements, to see if he had any known associates belowground.
Then Sky was killed.
By now, I know she was killed. It's hard to watch. There's security footage, from the night she went missing. It's in black-and-white, and it's grainy. You can see Sky, exiting her office, and walking down the main hall. She's still in her lab coat, with her notes under her arm. Her hair's up, but her ponytail's slipping. She's got a smile on her face, and a spring in her step.
It's strange, Cait. But I can tell, even though she's just a shadow on the screen… she's happy.
She's going to see Viktor.
I know she's going to see Viktor, because the security cameras are tracking her movements. And they show her walking down the main hallway, past my office, and into the stairwell. From there, she goes to the third floor. The cameras lose her there. There's no coverage inside the Hex-lab.
It has no cameras, remember.
But something happens six minutes later. There's a—a fluctuation, almost. In the video. The image blurs. It's like the camera's glitching.
Except it's not the camera.
Cait, I've seen that fluctuation before.
It's a Hex-field.
I can tell because, while the image distorts, the edges of the hallway remain sharp. Which means the field's expanding outward, in a dome pattern, from a central source. The source, in question, is the Hexcore.
It's been activated.
I've checked the timeline. The hex-field is only active for a few seconds. Then it's gone.
But Sky never returns.
I've been over the footage a hundred times. And the conclusion's always the same.
Sky entered the lab. She met Viktor. Then he killed her.
Why, I can't say.  Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was something else. The point is, her remains were never found. Only traces of her bones.
I've got to find him, Cait. I've got to talk to him.
I've got to understand what happened.
Jayce
*
Cait—
It's a trap.
You were right.
I did something stupid. I didn't think. I took a risk, and it's backfired. 
I went into Zaun. I had no formal dispensation; no notarized travel pass; no clearance from the Council. I was, effectively, trespassing on foreign soil.
I didn't care.
I was going to find Viktor. I needed answers on what had happened. I wasn't going to let him stay down there, hiding from what he'd done. I was going to make him tell the truth. Then, maybe, we could figure out how to fix this mess.
So, in the middle of the night, I armed myself with my hammer. I went down to the harbor. I was careful to avoid the usual checkpoints you'd told me about. I headed for a small, out-of-the-way pier, where the patrols were less frequent. I'd borrowed a friend's boat. It was small, and not the fastest, but it's quiet. I managed to sneak past the harbor's first buoys.
Then, I crossed the border.
 Zaun's different now.
I remember the last time I was in the Fissures to get supplies. Back before the Siege. It was rundown. It was rancid. The streets were in disrepair. The people were sullen. There was poverty and sickness, and a sense of despair.
Things have changed.
The Promenade's undergone a transformation. It's like a state-of-the-art motherboard framed in multicolored neon. They've repaired the streets, and the buildings are lit up like stars. They're clean. Pristine. Even the air smells different. Less acrid.
It's almost... pleasant.
It was late, but the shops were open. The crowds were out in full-force. They were mingling in the plazas, drinking at the bars, dancing in the squares. I passed an upscale club, and there was a line snaking all the way around the block. There were people of all classes and creeds, and they were dressed up, and celebrating.
Like it was a holiday.
I couldn't believe it. After everything that monster's done, the people of Zaun are out, and living it up, like it's the greatest carnival in the world. Like they're grateful. Grateful to have Silco in charge.
Cait, it's surreal.
It's as if, after years of fear, they're finally free. Not only free from Piltover's control—from its judgment, its oppression, its prejudice. It's like they're free in their souls. They're happy. Joyous.
But I can't shake the feeling that they're in a trance. As if, with the bright lights and poppy colors, Silco is hypnotizing them. He'd holding them in thrall, so they'll worship him, and not notice the bodies he's left in his wake.
That's how I felt, walking through the Promenade. Like I was following a parade of automatons, fueled on sensory ecstasy.
I tried talking to a few passersby, and they seemed nice. Friendly.
Some of them, too friendly.
I'm not sure how, but they knew I was a Topsider. A couple of them offered to give me directions. Others were eager to buy me drinks. A few asked if I'd like a dance.
One thing's for certain: they're much more welcoming now. Like, now that Zaun's nearabouts Piltover's equal, bygones can be bygones, and no one cares about a bit of old history.
I wasn't there to debate history, though. I was there to find Viktor.
I asked a few of the locals if they'd heard of him. It didn't seem to ring any bells, though a few said he sounded familiar. Then I mentioned he'd worked on Hex-tech, and a chorus rose up.
"Oh! The Machinist!"
That's what they call him in Zaun. They've forgotten his name. Or maybe they don't care.
What matters is that he's terraforming the urban landscape. Changing the city. Bringing the Fissures up to par. Creating a new Zaun, and building it up from ground-zero
I was shocked. He's already begun work? It's only been a few weeks.
But it's true. Apparently, Silco has put him in charge of a full-scale revitalization project. He's using the Hexcore to create new infrastructural designs. Changing the way the city is laid out, and making the Fissures over from a mud-hole into a metropolis. He has a whole team of engineers, and an entourage of blackguards. Every week, they're working on a new layer of the city.
A fresh coat of paint, if you will.
This week, they were overhauling the turbines. The next, the power grid. The one after that, the sewage system. By the time the Expo's begun, Zaun will be a chromed-up paradise.
And Silco will be lauded as its liberator.
The irony.
I was told he'd be working on the turbines this week, and to head toward the eastside. So, that's where I went.
The zone was a hive of activity. Tremors from power-drills under my feet; sparks from welding torches in the air; bodies swarming over scaffoldings. It looked like a small army had been drafted, and was working their hands to the bone. The entire sector had been cordoned off. 
The turbines stood on platforms, towering over the street. They were colossal works-in-progress: rivets the size of hubcaps, steel girders dense as concrete blocks, pistons the width of my chest. They were astonishing, Cait. The scale of them was unreal. Their alloy-shelled interiors seemed to be a combination of metallurgical compounds and Fissure-seam crystals, the two meshed together into a seamless matrix with a shimmery-green tint.
There were runes, too.
Hex-runes.
They were inscribed all over the turbines. And, judging by the way the technicians were treating them, they weren't simply decorative. They were a critical component of the new design.
I'd never seen anything like it.
I couldn't help but admire Viktor's work. He'd done all this in less than a month. Except it wasn't just him. Here and there, I saw a familiar monkey motif scrawled into the blueprints, or decorating the turbine's frame.
It was Jinx's signature.
It hit me, then, like a gut punch. Viktor hadn't done this alone. Jinx was collaborating with him. Her notes were scattered throughout the designs. This wasn't a solitary operation with a spur-of-the-moment breakthrough. This was a joint venture, between two rogue agents. One that must have been in the works for months.
Or longer.
I felt a chill go down my spine.
Silco had likely planned this—this coup—from the moment of the Peace Treaty.
And there was no telling what he had planned next.
Cait, I had to stop him. I had to find Viktor.
I asked a few technicians if they'd seen him. I was directed to the south end. I didn't have a plan. All I knew was that I had to find him. Confront him. Demand an explanation.
Then I saw him.
He stood in the middle of the mayhem, directing the crew.  At first glance, he seemed the same. Same height. Same build. Same accent. But that was a trick of the eye. Like my memory was a distorting medium, and my mind had supplanted an old image onto a new reality.
Because, when he turned, it was like he'd been replaced by someone else.
Someone I barely recognized.
He seemed taller, somehow. His movements were more fluid; his stiffness less pronounced. He didn't walk. He glided. The balls of his feet seemed to float a bare millimeter above the ground, as if the air itself was propelling him forward. And the way he carried himself, with such confident assurance—it was like his world had expanded, in the span of a few weeks, from a sickbed to a stage.
That's when I noticed his cane was different.
It wasn't the ergonomic model he'd designed for himself, as his mobility declined. This was a prong-tipped rod, polished black, with a barb at the base. Like a javelin. It was a definite case of function over form. No aesthetic appeal. No concession to comfort.
Just a weapon.
But, Cait, that's not what unnerved me the most.
That was Viktor himself.
Because he wasn't Viktor. He was some unnervingly close approximation dressed in patches of Viktor's skin, with steel seams running through the missing spots. His skull, torso and limbs are half-cybernetic. The right leg—the one that 'never behaved' as he'd sometimes put it—has been replaced with a mechanical prosthesis. It's got a titanium exoskeleton, and a carbon-fiber frame, and a hydraulic heel. The knee's a ball joint. The thigh's an articulated piston. It's like a work of art. The most horrifying work of art you could imagine.
But it's not just his leg.
His right hand—the one he'd taken to wearing a glove on—is now a four-fingered steel claw. It's hinged at the wrist, and the phalanges are articulated, and the palm's been fitted with a projectile port.
I know, because I watched him fire it.
It was a blackguard, one of the many onsite. The guy was being a dick. He was bullying some of the workers, and shouting at them, and generally harassing everyone within earshot.
Then Viktor walked up, and calmly ordered him to stand down.
The blackguard laughed.
Viktor didn't hesitate. He didn't say a word. He lifted a hand. The steel palm opened, and the projectile port spun, and the muzzle flared, and a blast of hot green light shot out, and blasted a hole straight through the guy's sleeve. It must have singed his skin, too, because the blackguard let out a howl.
Then he fell to his knees, groveling apologies.
Viktor, with terse instructions to the rest of the crew, turned, and left.
I couldn't believe it.
He'd shot at a man.
Without flinching. Without pausing to consider the consequences. Without even acknowledging the guy's pain.
He'd changed, Cait.
The Viktor I knew was gentle. He had a self-effacing slouch, an earnest smile, and an uncanny ability to see the best in people. He was always questioning, always second-guessing, always willing to learn. 
This man was nothing like that.
This man was... hard.
As if the softness had been drained from him.
Just like Violet.
As he strode off, I was able to catch strains of conversation. Cait—his voice has changed completely.  He's got an equalizer attached to his mouth, which runs on a small internal pump, and has an integrated voice modulator. It's the reason his accent's less pronounced. His tone's deeper, too. It's more authoritative. More commanding.
Less human.
The rest of his face is the same as the photograph. There are sensors on his cheeks, and his jaw is augmented with a cybernetic clamp. Then there's the eyes. The sockets are lined with a copper alloy, and the lenses are bionic. No pupils; no sclera. Just two reflective orbs with a glowing core.
Golden and black. Like looking into a pair of glowing embers.
Except they're cold.
I followed him. He wasn't going far. There was a trailer nearby, where blueprints were spread out over a makeshift table. He stepped inside. I'd expected to see Jinx. I was sure she'd be there. After all, she was collaborating with him. She'd drawn up half the diagrams, and, by the looks of things, had helped him implement them, too.
But the trailer was empty.
Viktor was alone.
Then I realized Viktor knew I was there.
"Jayce," he said, without turning around. "You are trespassing."
His voice, even through the equalizer, was the same.
Except it wasn't.
It was cold, too.
"Viktor," I said. "We need to talk."
He still didn't turn. "If the blackguards find you, they will arrest you. And, should they do so, I cannot guarantee your safety."
"I don't care."
"You should."
"I know what happened to Sky."
There was a prolonged silence punctuated by the distant sound of power tools. Then, very slowly, he turned. Our eyes met, and even though every muscle and nerve ending in my body fought it, I couldn't stop myself from flinching at the totality of his transformation.
At the eerieness of it.
"Sky," he said, at last, "is gone"
"I know.  She's dead. The Wardens found her bone-dust in your lab. You killed her."
"Jayce, you don't understand."
"Then explain it to me."
"I didn't kill her. Not in the way you think."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Viktor, you were the last person to see her alive. She was last seen near the Hex-lab. There are traces of her DNA mixed in with your own. What the fuck am I supposed to think?"
He said nothing. His breathing rasped like an iron file through the air. It was a strange, grating sound. His lungs, I understood, had been augmented, too. The extent of the mechanization, in such short a time-frame, couldn't be man-made.
Then I understood.
"Magic," I said.
He didn't answer.
"That's what happened, didn't it? You were using the Hexcore's magic. Not on tools. On yourself. And you didn't want anyone to know."
Still he said nothing.
"But it went wrong, didn't it? The Hexcore did something to her. She was in the lab, and something happened, and she got hurt. Badly. So badly that you had to dispose of her. And you thought, if you were careful, no one would ever find out. That you'd get away with it."
"Jayce—"
"Is that why you left? Because you were afraid of being caught? Dammit, Viktor, answer me!"
He looked at me, and the stare was preternaturally calm. But I could feel an intense heat cooking the air around him. He didn't raise his voice, or gesticulate, or make any move against me.
He kept on staring.
"Jayce," he said at last, "before I left Piltover, I was working on a theory. One involving the Hexcore. I had discovered that, with the right runic sequence, it was possible to channel its subatomic energies into living flesh. Through an organic compound as the catalyst, and the correct sequence as a stabilizer, the Hexcore's powers would no longer be tied to its physical matrix. We'd use it to augment living things. Restore damaged muscle. Heal sick tissue. Repair a faulty organ. Even..."
"What?"
"Prolong life."
Dazed, I shook my head. "Viktor, that's impossible. That level of transfiguration—"
"Can be achieved. All that's necessary is for the Hexcore to sustain the right frequency, at the correct resonance. A harmonic pattern, if you will."
"We tried, remember? We tried, with plants and fungi. We couldn't even manage to make a weed grow. The results crumbled, or rotted, or—"
"—died. Yes." His breath shivered like a metal grate in a storm. "That is because the runic sequence is incomplete. To channel the Hexcore's power, a keystone rune is needed. Something to anchor the harmonics. Act as the focus. Without it—"
"Viktor, please. You're not making any sense—"
"I was trying to extend life, Jayce!"
For the first time, the flat dial tone of his voice shifted. I heard, subaudible but discernible, a quaver of grief.
"Extend life," he whispered. "Not take it."
It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. My breath came hot, nauseous. "You messed up. Didn't you?"
"Jayce—"
"You screwed up. Something went wrong. You did something to Sky. You killed her."
He gave a single jerky nod.
My guts turned over. The fear had been replaced with disgust. With anger. I couldn't stand to look at him. To see what he'd done.
What he'd become.
"Where's her body?" I demanded.
"It's gone."
"Gone? Gone where?"
He rubbed his jaw, the bones grinding side-to-side. It was old gesture. The one he'd make, whenever he was uncomfortable. Or guilty.
"It was consumed."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Jayce, please. You must believe me. I—I did not intend for her to die. I did not even realize she was there until after—"
"After?"
The glow in his bionic eyes dimmed. "The Hexcore, when it opened, created a feedback loop.  The catalyst in my blood was to be the sensor, absorbing the concentration of the energy's signals. The runes on my body were the integrating centers, the medium through which the feedback would be channelled.  But—but there was not enough of one to balance the other."
I understood. "The Shimmer. That's why it was in your bloodstream. It interacts with the Hexcore's harmonics. Instead of destabilizing the resonance, it amplifies the feedback. It's what allows you to maintain a stable connection."
"Yes."
"And the runes. They're not for stabilization. They're for augmentation. For transmutation."
"Yes."
"And Sky? Where did she fit into all this?"
 A strange darkness filmed Viktor's bionic eyes. "She was not meant to be there. I should have—should have locked the door. Should have—but no, I did not think. It was too much, the moment. The chance, too great. If it had worked—" He broke off. His head drooped, slowly, as if his neck was made of wires stretched too taut. "She was there. The Hexcore's field was activated. It took her."
"Took her."
"Blindly. As a mouth takes in food. She was trying to pull me away. She was saying my name. Viktor. Viktor. She did not understand." His cybernetic fingers flexed around his cane. "I could not stop it. Could not shut down the Hexcore. The energy—it was too strong. Too much."
"You're saying the Hexcore absorbed her?"
"Her flesh. Then her bones. Then her essence. Until nothing remained." His chest vibrated, like an engine winding down. "Nothing but dust."
A cold fist gripped my heart. I thought of the security footage. The fluctuation, and the blur. It hadn't been a camera glitch.
It had been the Hexcore.
"Viktor," I breathed. "My Gods."
His head remained bowed.
"This is why, isn't it? Why you asked me to destroy the Hexcore. You knew, then. Knew how powerful it was. How dangerous. You wanted me to shut it down."
"Destroy it," he whispered. "Yes. But that was before—"
"Before, what?"
"Sky. In her notes. She'd left me a—a message. Only, it was never intended for my eyes."  He unstuck his jaw with effort, as if his teeth were glued together. As if the words themselves were too heavy to shape. "Sky was working on a project. One I'd encouraged. Every week, she would show me her findings. I would provide suggestions, or offer assistance, as needed. She was a brilliant researcher, Jayce. And unlike myself... she never forgot her roots."
I swallowed. It was hard, around the knot in my throat. "What—what was her project?"
"Life." The word was soft, almost reverent. "Here, in Zaun. She'd designed blueprints for a Hex-filtration plant. Something to purify the water. Sewage removal. Runoff collection. All to make the streets where she—where we both—grew up, safer. A habitable home for the people who needed it most."
"And now... you're building it."
"Yes."
"With Silco's blood money."
He lifted his head. The contours of his expression iced over; robotic, remote. "The blood money is the Council's. Silco is only the siphon."
"What—?"
"Or do you not hold the Councilors complicit in the Undercity's degradation?"
"That's not—"
"Not the same?" Something in his bionic eyes crackled. It could've been anger, or amusement, or a thousand other emotions, and I wouldn't have known the difference. "Tell me, Jayce. Why are you here?"
I was taken aback. "Because—because I needed to know the truth."
"You know the truth." The last humanity dissolved out of his voice, leaving a mechanical buzz. "You wanted to hold me accountable."
"If you'd killed Sky—"
"You've killed too, Jayce."
A stone lodged in my chest. It was cold. It was hard.
It was the truth.
Cait—only you, Violet and Mel know what I did. That night, at Silco's Shimmer factory. The boy caught in the crossfire. The boy who'd died because of my recklessness.  I've lived with the memory of his face ever since. It's haunted me. Night and day. No matter how much I've tried to justify it. No matter how many good deeds I've done.
The fact is, I took a life.
And Viktor knew.
For so long, I'd kept it from him, out of shame but also fear. The fear of him judging me, as no different from the other Topsiders. The same ones who'd mistreated him as a boy; who'd buried his city under their refuse and left the people to rot. I was afraid, Cait, of him hating me. Of him realizing how little I deserved his friendship.
And now he did.
 Silco, I thought, icy splinters of rage in my gut. He knew too.
He knew—and he'd used the knowledge to turn Viktor against me.
"Viktor," I began.
"Jayce." His voice was dead as the grave. "Do not."
"Look, please, I—"
"You should not have come. Your presence will be construed as hostile. There will be consequences."
"Then let's leave. Come back with me. I can protect you. The Council, they'll—"
"Forgive me?" His lips approximated a smile. "No. That, I think, will not happen."
"You can't stay here. Not under Silco's thumb. He's using you, Viktor. Using the Hexcore. You can't trust him. Can't you see?"
"I can. You cannot."
 "Viktor—"
"I cannot return to Piltover, Jayce.  My mistakes have made it impossible. I understand that." The mechanical ruthlessness returned to his voice. "You, in turn, must understand. I will not return, because of your own."
My entire axis tilted. I couldn't believe my ears. I was reeling.
"You—you don't mean that."
"I do."
"You'd really choose Silco, over Piltover?"
"I choose neither."
"But—HexCorp. Our research. Me. Us."
"I am sorry, Jayce."
And for the barest moment, the briefest heartbeat, his bionic eyes seemed wetly sheened. As if he was still human.
Then it was gone.
His cane tapped, twice.
A heartbeat later, blackguards melted from the darkest corners.
I counted four. They'd been posted all around. In the shadows.
Waiting for him to give the signal.
I knew, then, that I'd been set up.
Silco had goaded me into coming. He'd known I'd confront Viktor, and Viktor would reveal what had happened to Sky. Then the blackguards would appear, and there'd be arrest warrants. Public censure. Tarnished reputations.
All the while, Viktor would remain in Zaun, free to pursue his work.
I'd played right into his hands.
"Viktor," I said. "Please. Don't do this."
"Goodbye, Jayce." He turned. "You must not return."
"Viktor—"
"Take him."
Cait, I barely had time to react. The blackguards closed in, and my hammer was out, and the energy pulsed, and I managed to get off a shot, and send two of the men flying back, until—
A blow to the back of my skull.
The ground rose up, and slammed into my face.
The world went dark.
When I woke, I was in a holding cell. A dank, cramped space, with a barred door and a cot, and a bucket in the corner.  My head throbbed. My hammer had been confiscated. My wrists were chafed from old shackles.
But, other than that, I was unharmed.
I wasn't sure how long I was kept there. Time passed strangely, in a fog of disorientation. It felt like days, but couldn't have been more than a few hours. Finally, a guard appeared. He escorted me out. We took a lift down to an underground garage, where a limousine was waiting. He shoved me in, and I braced myself for the worst.
Maybe Silco would have me strangled. Maybe they'd put a bullet through my skull. Maybe they'd dump me in the river.
I had a dozen scenarios running through my head. None of them ended well.
None of them came close to reality.
Mel was sitting inside.
Silco had informed her, via a confidential courier, of my entry into Zaun. That I'd gone across the border, unsupervised, armed, with no clearance. That I'd trespassed, and threatened Viktor. And that, in doing so, I'd violated the terms of the Peace Treaty.
Politically, it could've been catastrophic. Months of negotiations—the careful cultivation of trust, the fragile bonds of diplomacy—all put at risk. If Silco had decided to press charges, to use the incident as leverage against Piltover, or retaliation for a perceived slight, the Council would've been hard-pressed to respond.
But he hadn't.
Mel told me, afterward, that the crisis had been resolved behind closed doors. She'd taken the ferry to Zaun, requested a private meeting, and met with Silco in his office. There, after some back-and-forth, she had convinced him to drop the charges. In exchange, the Wardens had agreed to a temporary suspension of my duties at HexCorp. It was, in effect, a forced sabbatical. One I was to spend, for three months, under house-arrest.
During that time, I was forbidden from entering Zaun.
Mel told me all this later. In that moment, sitting beside her in the car, I couldn't bring myself to speak. I was too ashamed—too overwhelmed—to say a word.
We rode in silence.
Cait—I've been such an idiot.
I've gambled high, and I've lost. And because of that, Piltover had nearly lost, too. I'd put myself before my city. Before the safety, the security, the future of our people. I thought of how I'd exploded at Mel, that night in her flat. How I'd left her there, in tears. How I'd jeopardized everything she'd worked so hard to achieve. Everything I'd fought so hard to create.
All because of my own blind, selfish, outsized ego.
All because I thought I could swoop in and save the day.
Gods, what an ass I've been.
Throughout the ride, I kept looking sidelong at Mel. She sat, straight-backed, her hands in her lap, her eyes cast forward. Her dress was pristine, her hair was coiffed, her makeup was impeccable. To the untrained eye, she looked flawless.
I knew her better.
I saw the way her hands were a white-knuckled twist. I saw the subtle quiver of her lower lip. I saw the lavender shadows under her eyes.
The guilt was suffocating.
She'd saved me. She's always saved me. And how have I repaid her? With scorn. With mistrust. With disrespect.
I wanted to fall at her feet. Beg her forgiveness. Tell her how sorry I was, and how stupid I'd been, and how wrong.
I didn't.
Instead, I sat there. Staring at my shoes.
We pulled into her driveway.
"Jayce," she said. "Go. Rest in the guestroom. I'll have the maids send up some tea."
Her tone was polite, but distant. Reserved.
I nodded. "Thanks."
"Jayce?"
I paused, halfway out of the car. "Yes?"
She turned, at last, and met my stare. Her eyes were dark, and sad, and tired.
"I'm glad you're safe," she said simply.
Cait, I couldn't say a word. I could barely breathe. I hesitated for just a second, then pulled her across and into my arms. She embraced me, and as soon as I felt her warmth, smelled her perfume, I couldn't stop myself.  The past few weeks—Viktor's departure, the truth of Sky's death, the realization that I'd nearly ruined everything—everything came rushing back.
I broke down.
I was crying, Cait. Crying in her arms. Like a child. She held me. She didn't say anything. Just held me.
I don't deserve her.
I truly don't. But having her close, and knowing she cared, was a lifeline. Since the Siege, it's like I've lost a tiny bit of my reality. My grasp on the world. Every day, it's been a little harder. Then Viktor left, and Sky died, and the pieces of my world started falling apart.
Mel is the one of the few pieces still anchoring me.
I wanted to tell her this, Cait. I wanted to tell her, how much she means to me, and how sorry I was, and how grateful. I wanted to tell her, over and over, that I didn't deserve her, and how, despite it all, I was never going to leave her side.
I didn't, though.
I kissed her.
It wasn't planned. It just... happened. I kissed her. She was still in my arms. We were still in the car. I was still crying.
Then I was kissing her.
She let me, for a little bit. Then she broke, gently, and turned her head. Putting a palm on my chest, she nudged me back.
"No, Jayce."
"Mel..."
"You need to rest. We'll talk, later."
"Mel, I..."
"Later," she said softly.
It wasn't a request.
And so, I let her go. I walked into the penthouse, and was escorted upstairs. But, Cait—it was the loneliest walk of my life. Because I realized why, when I'd kissed her, she'd withdrawn.
Not because it was the wrong time.
Not because I was in shock.
Not because she was mad.
Cait, she's seeing someone else. I can't say how I know. Just that I can sense it. And, the worst part is, I can't blame her. After the way I've treated her—blowing hot, then cold; pushing her away, then pulling her close; accusing her of things she'd never do, then expecting her to help me when the shit hits the fan—it's no surprise she's moved on.
And how can I expect this gorgeous, sophisticated, brilliant woman, with her head screwed on straight, and her heart in the right place, and the courage to speak truth into power, to stick around?
Especially when I'm acting like a spoiled, sulky, immature, selfish asshole.
She's better off.
But not me.
I've fucked up, Cait. I've hurt people. I've hurt my friends. I've endangered Piltover. All because I've been too caught up in myself. Because I've let my pride run wild.
Because, at the end of the day, maybe I'm still just a boy meddling with things I don't understand.
I think it's time that boy grew up.
It's time he made the world a better place.
P.S.
This will be my last correspondence for a little while. I'll be going upcity to my mother's place.  I've got a few projects in mind, and if I'm going to be under house-arrest, might as well put my time to good use.
Before I go, though, I want to thank you.
For your support. Your honesty. Your friendship.
For everything.
Cait, you're the best.
Your friend, always,
Jayce
*
 To Jayce Talis, Esq.
Sir,
You will oblige me to ask the following: Are you out of your fucking mind?
First, you attack the First Chancellor in plain view of half the Council. Then, you decide it would be a good idea to traipse across the border, unescorted and armed with Hex-tech, without a notarized travel pass. Then, not satisfied with having broken one law, you have the gall to threaten one of our citizens—our brightest minds—with abduction and bodily harm. Then you injure two blackguards, and thereby put yourself, and the integrity of the Peace Treaty, at risk.
Now, you have the balls to write to me—demanding an audience with the First Chancellor, once your house-arrest has expired.
Your arrogance knows no bounds.
Read carefully, sir. Because I will only say this once:
No.
No, you will not have an audience with the First Chancellor. No, we will not divulge the address of the Machinist, Viktor. No, we will not disclose blackguard Violet's current location. And no, you will not be given leave to enter the Fissures, unsupervised and with your hammer.
That is final.
Your last letter, demanding a 'sit-down' (you have, evidently, been reading too many tabloids) is not only a grave presumption. It is also a threat against the integrity of this office. Your future letters, from here on out, will be marked as "Return to Sender." The prior ones, we've already compiled and forwarded to the Council, who have assured us will investigate.
I trust they will take the proper disciplinary actions.
Janna knows, you deserve a slap on the rear. A hard one.
Given your tenure as a former Councilor, we are prepared to show a degree of leniency. You are a prominent figure in the public eye. We recognize the emotional impact of your mentor, Dr. Heimerdinger's, passing. We also know that you have suffered the loss of Viktor's partnership, and are under intense strain in your private life. 
In light of these facts, the First Chancellor has agreed to overlook your invective. We will not press charges, and will not seek punitive action, so long as you cease any and all communication with the First Chancellor. You are also instructed to desist any further inquiries into the whereabouts of the Hexcore.
If you continue to persist in your obstinate line of inquiry, the First Chancellor will no longer be inclined to clemency. You will find yourself facing multiple felony charges, which may carry a term of imprisonment.
Consider carefully.
The Man of Tomorrow, Piltover's brightest mind, would look pretty dim in a prison jumpsuit.
Kindly refrain from further correspondence. Unless it’s in the form of an apology. A similar letter of warning has been forwarded to Enforcer Caitlyn Kiramman. In light of your close personal relationship, we request you relay the message next time you meet.
Regards,
Sevika M.
P.S.
The First Chancellor has also requested we share the following message:
"The boy's letters are charmingly feisty. The girl's, surpassingly eloquent. I am delighted to know that two such exceptional individuals are among our neighbors. My only regret is that they spend more time throwing rocks, and less time building bridges."
"When their aim improves, they will be welcome to visit. Until then, they are advised to keep their distance."
57 notes · View notes
cherrysweather · 8 months
Note
hi!! i'm unsure if ur still taking asks or anything, but i was wondering, if you still are, if you could write phoenix/miles with a nerdy s/o? just the type to ramble about random details from video games to things like star trek or even horror movies, they always have these little trivia facts they seem to have ready and manage to tie into the conversation.
of course if you're still doing asks!! thank you and have a wonderful day!!
Anon helluuuu! I'm sorry you had to wait a year +, but know that I really loved this ask and wanted to write it so much! I don't know if it could be useful, but I already wrote some headcanons about Edgeworth with a gamer S/O (It's this one!), so I hope you'll like this, if you still follow this blog! Thanks again and drink some water! --------------------------------------------------------------------
Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth x Nerdy!S/O:
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Phoenix Wright:
Phoenix per se isn't really a fan of something in particular;
Sure, Maya taught him the ways of the Steel Samurai, Trucy taught him some magic tricks, but he prefers to not spend all his time and energy on just one thing;
But even so, he doesn't judge you, since sometimes he also understands how passionate you could be;
When he visits you, he always tries to understand what you're doing, and why it's so captivating;
Even after hours, film after film, game descriptions one after another, he just can't remember it all;
However he loves playing games with you and, depending on the film, watching your favorites and hear you afterwards explain all the detail he surely missed, the messages behind, each character personality and backstories...
Whenever he see a new film released that you might be interested in, he takes the opportunity to spend some time together doing something both of you can enjoy;
Surely, most of the time is the other way around, since you always watch out for every new announcement about a game, a film or a serie, so most of the time you're faster than him in asking to go to the cinema or buy a new game;
Whenever he can set aside some money, he happily buys you something in the lines of your passions;
The funniest part is however when you two start talking about a certain topic, and every five minutes it changes;
Starting from how the day was, to a new information you discovered about that particular character of that game, but then he answers telling you of that case where he defended someone with that exact same hair;
And it goes on;
But most of the time the talking is led by you;
He doesn't particularly hate horrors, but he surely prefers something that doesn't reminds him of any of his past cases;
So he gladly stars a quite long exchange of opinions whenever you finish to see one together.
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Miles Edgeworth:
Miles probably knows a pair of films that you really like;
The rest? A mystery;
Whenever you start to rant about how that game could have had a way better sequel, he urges to find something else to do and listen to you "in the background";
Otherwise, he only comes out of there confused, speechless and sometimes with a headache;
He's taken by surprise each time you explain to him in the smallest detail how that game somewhat represents society, and the protagonist of that game is the perfect hero of who knows what kind of literature;
Don't expect him to sit alongside you while a horror film is playing;
And if he does (surely on his will) he won't watch it entirely;
In the years you two were together, Miles discovered a new way of falling asleep if he couldn't on his own;
He calls you and asks about some details or explaining of the most recent thing you played;
This is both to try and enter your world and to use your voice to empty his head and relax until falling asleep;
The first time it happened, you thought he found you boring or logorrheic, but he really just finds your voice relaxing;
And it's so cute when you get so hyped over something;
So you got along with his strategy, since you know too how difficult it is for him to fall asleep, and when he calls at impractical hours, you first check that he's ok, then just ramble about something;
Miles just puts his phone on his pillow and tries to get some sleep, answering you with "mhmh" or simply "mh" while he's awake;
Whenever he can, he does some research on what he remembers you nominated during the day and notes something of it, just to try and have a conversation with you;
Miles also tries to understand how you tie an argument with another with so much sense but at the same time with so little sense that he wants to learn to connect two things so far away from each other.
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ohcorny · 4 months
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i need to post loic soulsov character analysis because if i don't i'll die. he's been plaguing my thoughts for *checks watch* like three to four days because we get SO much information about him and who he is in just this one nugget of the game and i'm spinning out of control about it.
spoilers for the most raw bits of the prelude so obviously go play the game first and then come back and read me ramble and make wild assumptions about this man and the direction of his character
so i have been obsessed with this (paraphrased because i'd have to whip through nearly the whole game again to correctly quote it) exchange between the voice and loic:
"Are you prepared for the world Ysme would create?" "Could it really be any worse than this one?"
and god. bro. bro. the absolute devastation necessary for this man to feel this way, about a woman who lied to him from the moment they met (which he clocked! very early on!), mugged him with a gun, SHOT him with that gun, and then when she became his ghost-god immediately realized she could force him to commit suicide by cop if she wanted. this woman did all of this to him, and when given the opportunity to just let her die--arguably justifiable given her goals and how she threatened him and the fact her death was entirely of her own doing--he doesn't. even though "don't let this woman die", a morally good thing on its face, is actually "let this violent, selfish woman become god with the ability to remake the world in her image, while also becoming her slave" and he knows it.
because to him, that's preferable to the world he lives in. your world has to be so bad for that to be the case.
and it is! his world is that bad. not the physical actual world, which yes, is harsh and cold and dangerous outside the mosaic, but his world, his daughter, in an incurable coma. there is a cruelty to somebody you love being incurably sick. to the selfish, hurting heart, it can be worse than if they were just dead. you can mourn somebody who's dead, and move on from your grief, but as long as they're still living, you're shackled to hope, constantly grieving. there is no moving on, there is only waiting for it to end. you might bargain, as loic does in his search for the flower to cure her, but it's still just waiting.
and when ysme comes into his life, he gives up on waiting. he has been haunting his own life until then, doing good at lamplight because it was within his power while he was there, but i don't think it was ever with dedication. it was something to pass the time as he looked for the flower. essentially selling his soul, surrendering his free will to ysme, this incredibly dangerous, selfish woman, is better than living as he has been. because he's selfish too.
what i like so much about loic is that he's presented as this very kind, soft, unassailable dad who wants to do the right thing. A Down to Earth Good Guy, to contrast with the chaos of ysme, but he's fucking selfish! while he couldn't have predicted the raw physical power of exalted ysme, he still knew she would receive the power to remake the world. and he still decided: fuck this world.
the natural assumption is that his kindness will balance out ysme, and i'm here for that narrative, but honestly. i think she's going to make him worse. the seed of selfishness is already in him, and he's indulged it by giving her power over him, and that must be in some way a relief. he's effectively surrendered responsibility for himself and his actions over to her. he can no longer be fully blamed for anything now that she has power over him.
and i think he's tired of being nice. i think he's ready to go apeshit.
.........and while that would make a good button to end this on, i have to mention: there is a non-zero chance he thinks she's hot and the idea of being a goddess' slave is hot. he's a grown ass man who we know for a fact HAS fucked, and while ysme was like "i thought you were a dead wife guy. i guess you still could be" my money is on divorced. my theory is lia was going over to her mom's house in that flashback.
like yes, all of that above is the main motivator, but i'm not ready to discount sex. loic wants to be lifestyle dommed. because what i just described about surrendering his free will is literally the appeal of being a sub: giving somebody else control, so you don't have to feel the weight of it. this is a story for adults about adults and it is on that le guin shit of linking a sexual fantasy inexorably to the world building and plot thrust, and i am ESPECIALLY here for that.
and i think that's everything i had to say about loic soulsov. i am exorcised. i'm better now.
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starryficsfinishwen · 4 months
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“If I don't finish this paperwork right now, I will yeet myself off of Babylonia.”
“Hell yeah! And I'm going with ya!”
You believed there were only two braincells left in the beefy, red-haired man's head. But right now, they were fighting for third place, alongside your own overworked ones.
“Noctis,” You giggled, placing your pen and crumpled paper on the table, “I wholeheartedly appreciate the support. But I'd rather you stay so you can at least inform Celica about my whereabouts.”
“No,” Noctis hummed, “I can't do that. I can tag along so that you wouldn't be alone drifting in space.”
Sitting across you, meaty arms crossed, Noctis waited patiently. Although, you felt guilty, the man who had been staying with you for several hours. You had him shooed away earlier, yet, as hard as the chest plate he has, he still came back. Noctis' stubbornness was a charm that made you feel for him in the first place. At the same time, it was also his Achilles' heel. But that's another story for today.
“You know,” you cleared your throat, “You don't always have to stay here...”
“Commandant, here you go again,” Sighing with a pout on his scarred face, Noctis groaned, “I said I'm perfectly fine being here. Don't worry!”
“I'm worried that you'd get bored.”
“No problemo,” he shrugged, grinning, “Cerberus is free from any maintenance or missions.”
The idea of Vera and her angry tone that reminded of a mother, looking for the man who was the embodiment of chaos, made you reel back. You leaned to the table, hand supporting your chin, “I suppose that's the case. But what if Vera comes? Won't you be scared?”
“Of who? Vera? Hah! As if,” Noctis started laughing (at this point, your heart skipped a beat, tummy bursting with little butterflies fluttering), “It's fine. Really. She won't be looking for me.”
“Besides,” he quickly added, “What if you do jump out of Babylonia. You'd end up wandering in space alone!”
Sometimes, you wonder if you should tone down your humor. Yet, you still indulged in his fantasies.
“Ah,” you feigned a gasp, “What if I dive into the Earth like a meteor and fall?”
“I'd follow you, then!”
“But we'll be broke there!”
“Like you said, we can always go back to the bar,” Noctis' eyes started shimmering, “or-or, we can be travelling merchants! Exchange all the broken parts of a corrupted so we can get some money!”
Ah, stupid, yet ambitious dreams. It made you question if Noctis' braincells were still intact, or simply, they were busy doing something else.
“I mean,” quickly, Noctis spoke before you could, “They're not bad ideas. But don't you think Babylonia's facilities are better than being in a soaking hot desert?”
And you decided to go with it. “Hmm, true...”
“If the paperworks are your problem, then why don't we yeet that one off of Babylonia instead?”
And face Celica's wrath? Probably not. You contemplated a witty remark, but Noctis went quiet. Looking at him, his maroon eyes were trained to you.
“I may not know a lot of those technicalities,” his voice suddenly goes soft, his eyes a shimmer of an unknown emotion that you've never seen before from him, “but...if there is anything, anything that I can do, let me know.”
Oh? This was new. For a buffy, "violence-is-the-answer" kind of man, this was surprising to you, that your mouth went agape, seemingly unable to let your hand function to pick up the papers on the table. Noticing your reaction, Noctis shook his head, the raucous expression back on his face.
“B-but if it's writing the documents, then, hell no!”
You blinked. And blinked again. And an intrusive thought came to you. You raised your hand, so slightly, beckoning him to approach you. He followed, seemingly like a puppy. Once he was beside you, you turned to him and stood up. Although your height was at a disadvantage (you barely reached his broad shoulders), you stared so deeply into his maroon eyes. The distance, in which you've noticed was closer now— the heat bouncing off of each other, him looking down to meet you.
“Noctis?” you quietly called out.
“Co...commandant?”
“Will you” you breathed, so softly, “...will you let me touch your titties?”
Silence. And then, you busted out laughing. With a puzzled, yet amused look on his face, you couldn't help but break into another fit of laughter.
“Ah-haha!” you wiped a few tears coming out of your eyes, “S-sorry, Noctis, I was just joking-”
“-Go ahead!”
Another silence. Based on his clueless expression, mixed with joy, you thought this man probably misheard you.
“I- what?”
“You wanted to touch my titties, right?” Beaming, he spoke with a hint of excitement, “Go ahead!”
Suddenly, you weren't so such if your choices in life were right. That, or braincells were in the same grade as Noctis'. After a careful debate with yourself, you reached out anyway, hand now on one of his titties pecs. Squeezing it so gently, you realized an epiphany.
“Commandant, I thought you exercised,” Noctis asked, seemingly unsatisfied with your actions, “squeeze them harder!”
So you do. Squeezing them like a stress ball. Noctis, still unsatisfied, took your free hand and placed it in the other titties pecs. Somehow, you started to squeeze both of them. All the stress from earlier started to melt away— the paperwork, the fatigue, your caffeine addiction— as your braincells decided to merge with Noctis', all fighting for the last place.
“See!” You and Noctis laughed, decided to mush your face into his cushioned chest, “I knew I could help!”
“Thank you,” you were, genuine and true, “I didn't know that this was therapeutic.”
Except you've always wanted to do this for a long time. Seeing the genuine joy on your face, you failed to notice Noctis' expression softening. Although mechanical, his heart skipped faster, and you recognized that.
“...but you know,” he muttered, “living on Earth doesn't seem half bad.”
He thought you didn't know, but you caught him whispering, “...as long as it's with you.”
Fuck work. Living on Earth didn't seem to feel bad, indeed. Temporarily stopping, you tugged him by his dogtag, a soft, quick kiss to the side of his jaw and cheek. A mirrored pink blush on both of your faces.
“I'll hold on to it.”
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a.n. - there is actually a planned story for all the husbandos of PGR. I wanted to just find out about Noctis and his story. look where this brainrot got me LMAO I now realize I wanna,,,mash my face onto his titties
p.s. - also new theme for me yeeey
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keen-li · 6 months
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CLAWED | JJK | CH 06
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Synopsis: "do you honestly think I want your help? I'm desperate " you can still see the hatred he has for you in his eyes, but you can also see the desperation.
Genre: e2l, angst, fluff, smut-ish. Convict jk x police officer reader
Warnings: none for now.
____________________
You're in the chief's office waiting for him to arrive, he called for you which was rare. You were usually the one to follow him.
The air thickens when he enters the room as you exchange good mornings.
This man always carried an aura that made you stiffen and sit up straight.
"I've noticed your hard work and determination over the last cases you were on" He compliments you and you almost crack a smile as you thank him for his words.
"Don't let my compliment got to your head though" he chuckles and though you don't want to you chuckle aswell.
"It won't sir" you reassure.
"That's good cause I want you on the Kim case"
Your eyes almost bulge out in surprise when he says this. He wants you on this case? The case you've been thinking about every night even involving your neighbour to help discuss it.
"Me?" You question in disbelief and he nods "when?"
"Right now. The more officers we can have maybe the faster it can move. And you'll be joined by sunho...." and immediately he says sunho's name you block out the other names he says after that. You're gonna be working with sunho. Your heart races in frustration at the thought. First living with jungkook now working on the same case with sunho, what next?
When you get back to your station you hear sunho speak to you but you block him out.
"Looks like we're gonna be working together" you deadpan him not amused by his sarcastic tone. Why can't he just leave you alone.
__________________________
If anyone ever told you that you were gonna be in a car with sunho in the driver's seat you would rebuke them. But you had no choice but to be there because you never know the advantage completing and solving this case might have. Though it's painful to sit next to him you just have to, who knows you could get promoted after this.
you and sunho are seated in front of one of the largest banks in town on an task the chief sent you on.
The chief sent you and him to collect a file containing information about the Kim case. You and sunho haven't really talked and he hasn't said much to you. Seems like he's only a big talker in a crowd.
"You wanna go in or should I" you ask. You already know your answer but you just wanna make him feel involved.
"I'll do it" he says stepping out of the car. You are really surprised he doesn't say anything to you. He seems kinda different when he's away from the crowd of his friends. You still don't like him though.
After being gone for seven minutes, sunho comes back with a file in his hand.
You tried to reach for it but he pulls it back.
"This is a job for the for the boys" and his lost his streak.
"Well read it out loud" you say not wanting to conversate with him much especially if it's not gonna be about the case.
"It's just some bank transactions between the kim company and Kim taehyung."
"Well that's boring, doesn't his father own the company anyways"
"No, his uncle owns it now" he informs you still going through the papers.
"Taehyung was supposed to inherit the company but his uncle ended up snatching it from him." This is the first time you've heard this news. You really don't involve yourself in corporate family drama.
"Do you really think he's part of the heists on the Kim company? " sunho looks at you like it's obvious but you're not staring at him to notice.
"That could be his motive." You come to a conclusion more to yourself.
"Yeah whatever" he says turning his attention back to the paper.
"Seems like this taehyung guy has been transferring money to different accounts in different countries."
"Do we know what for?
"No"
"Any names of the accounts his sending his money to. He might be sending money to his accomplices."
"But why would he do it from his own account if he doesn't want to draw attention to himself"
" who said he doesn't want to draw attention to himself"you say and sunho goes silent thinking.
"Give me the papers I want to look at them when I get back home." you stretch your hand for sunho to give you the papers but he doesn't.
"Who said you get to go home with them" you look at him with a confused look.
"Because I'm more invested in this than you are"
"Who said I'm not invested"
you reach out and try to snatch the file from him but he pulls away
"Sunho give me the papers"
" no"
You two too struggle for some time for the file until you finally grab them from him.
The drive back to the station is silent as you hold onto the file for dear life.
Once you get back to the station sunho goes back to his normal self making snarky comments about you. Such a wuss.
After that you decide to do a little more investigating on the case especially on Kim taehyung. You take your time to read previous findings from the other people on the case.
_______________________________
Jungkook is chilling on your couch drinking a smoothie he just made for himself when he gets a call from jin.
"Tell your little police friend to stop snooping around before she regrets it" jin says knowing jungkook has heard and is going to do as he says.
Jungkook doesn't say anything to him. He never really liked having conversations or interacting with jin cause he carries so many bad decisions that jungkook doesn't want to make but ends up making anyways.
_______________________________
You've been working and fixating on this case for two days now, not coming up with any leads only hypothesis.
A sensible person wouldn't openly share any money obtained from heists if he was involved. Maybe he wasn't involved in the case or maybe he is, maybe he's just the brains and not the muscle maybe he's creating a distraction. Why his own company though? to get to his uncle? but why? so many theories and so many unanswered questions.
You come down to the clever decision to go to the downtown side of town to see if anyone knew anything about taehyung. Everyone there knows about everything atleast even one person must know.
You go there in your personal car and regular clothes, which doesn't seem smart considering this side of town is the hotspot for criminal activities. But you go there with your badge and gun, that should be some kind of protection right?
You drive through the dark , eerie and pedestrian filled road. Even in broad daylight this place feels dark. You can see people stare at you and your car with looks you can't dissect but they're nothing friendly or welcoming.
You just wanna leave but you're here on a job so you can't. Your racing mind won't let you.
When you step out of your car after parking in some corner and locking it, you can feel all the haunting eyes people stare at you with. You look around, shoulders tensed and mind alert as you turn looking for a victim for your burning questions you aren't nervous or scared anymore and your body shows it.
"Nice car. What's it doing here?" You hear a man speak behind you and you turn sharply to find him tracing his fingers on the logo of your Mercedes. A gift you got from your family.
"Dont touch it" you sharply say immediately going to stand next to your car.
When he asks what a pretty girl and such a car are doing here, you show him your badge and he nods. It doesn't frighten him like you thought it would. He actually seems even more intrigued.
"What brings you here officer" he says not in the slightest bit sounding intimidated by you.
He's dressed in a black T-shirt and black slacks with his bleached hair styled to suit him. When he runs his hands through it you notice the silver rings that decorate his fingers and even the small silver chain that hangs around his neck, looks like some expensive stuff.
His dark Iris stare at you as you try to assert your dominance in this conversation. He looks like a guy who knows this place like the back of his hand he might be the one to help you.
"I'm looking for some information on Kim taehyung" you hope he might be the one to give them to you. Even though your question is a little bit direct you hope that the man isn't startled by it.
"Why is he in some trouble?"
"No just have some questions"
This side of town carried a lot of information about criminals and the like. So if taehyung is involved in the criminal activities somebody around here must know or even be working with him.
"Why are you coming around here? why not ask the man himself" he questions placing his hands into his dark pockets.
"I don't think he'd tell me business about his family, now would he?" you say smirking as you say that. You mimic the man's actions as you place your hands in your pockets as well.
"No I don't think he would" the man chuckles showing you his well arranged pearly white teeth.
"What's his relationship with his uncle" the man laughs at your evident curiosity.
He then begins to openly explain and when you hear that taehyung wasn't happy that his uncle had gotten the company and that he dispises his uncle you felt like you've heard enough.
"And is his uncle fond of taehyung?" you shift from one foot to the other as you take in the information.
"No" the man then leans into whisper something.
"He actually wants to run taehyung dry of his assets"
you feel like you're being fooled because how can someone know so much about a high ranked business man's personal life. Seems like they don't hide their business well.
"I think that will be all, thank you..." as you turn to go to your car, you turn back to the man who's still standing there watching you with a dark glare that makes you uneasy.
"And what's the name of the man giving me this information?" You watch the man intently.
"Jin" he says bluntly.
"Thank you jin" you thank him.
"Anytime" jin says giving you a warm smile which you return awkwardly. He watches your car drive away as you feel satisfied with the answers he's given you.
______________________________
Jungkook curses under his breath at the sound of your feet against the floor. He's had to listen to this for over five hours and he's started to lose it.
A few minutes earlier he had brought the issue to you but you used your 'it's my house' card again. He knows it's your house it kills his ears whenever you remind him. But couldn't you spare his sanity on this one.
You've been busting your ass for two days every after work to work on this case. And even if jin's answers didn't make a break for the case, they definitely put you on a path to make more hypothesise.
The heists are mainly targeted at the Kim companies and any company in association with them so maybe taehyung is involved, because he's trying to get his uncle to step down due to the pressure and frustration of being the number one target of the heists
And unless he does step down you don't think taehyung will stop.
"Don't you think you've been working on this for a little too long." Jungkook says leaning against the door frame to your office or the room you like to work in.
The pen in your hand is stuck to the paper scribbling some connections, your eyes following each movement it makes.
You can feel jungkook move from the door and slowly walking towards you as he looks around the room. He takes in everything he sees. He always knew you were the organized reading type but two bookshops filled with books that's a bit much. Have you even read any of these.
His eyes run across all your achievements hung up on the wall, then he notices the gold medal hanging on the wall. He remembers this one you won it at the spelling competition. Jungkook wonders why they even held that competition.
That was the only time you beat jungkook. Yeah jungkook beat you when you it came to physicals but he could never beat you when it comes to books. It's not like he's not smart he actually is even earning himself and his school first place in the International School quizzes, when he was in high school. But there's just something that you have that he doesn't and even if you didn't capitalize on your intelligence in high school, because of your fear and shyness, you still had it and worked on it on your own at home.
Your dad would always push you to join these competitions but you never did. Your mother would always tell him to leave you alone and that you weren't ready.
Do you regret it, kind of. But you don't blame me yourself too much you had so much fear and doubt in you.
"Still sulking on how I beat you" you say noticing him looking at the medal. He chuckles turning his body towards you.
"No I knew you'd beat me" you don't say anything surprised by his confession.
"You're a smart girl y/n" he says smirking at you. Looking at him with suspicion you don't say anything wondering when he's gonna throw in an insult to make you feel less, but he doesn't. He simply stares at you noticing the shock on your face.
"What? surprised that I can actually have nice things to say" you continue to stare at him as he is eyes the papers on your desk related to the Kim case.
You nod "yeah I am" he laughs at that finally stopping in front of your desk and staring at you.
"Take a Break I made some brownies" he says not sounding like himself which makes you suspicious and confused. Jungkook sees it on your face. Since when did jungkook start baking and even inviting you to come eat with him.
"Come on I'm just trying to be kind to the person who took me in on that rainy night" you roll your eyes at his cringe.
"And who knows they might be better than yoongi's"
Pfft.
When he says that you scoff and stand up deciding you do need a break anyways, but also you really need to see if they might be better than yoongi's.
You walk to the door with jungkook standing by your desk.
"Well let's go" you say watching him and waiting at the door.
"Yeah right behind you" he taps his fingers against the wood of your desk as you nod and walk out to go to the kitchen.
Shortly after jungkook follows and walks behind you and quickly rushes to pull out the brownies he made.
They certainly don't look better than yoongi's and after tasting them you can definitely say they don't taste better than yoongi's.
They don't taste that bad, but if you got these at a bakery you'd be asking for a refund.
_______________________________
You're standing stiff feeling the tears about to fall. But you don't let them you don't even let the chief and sunho, who's yelling, know or tell that you want to cry.
"I warned you chief that she would fuck this up" he preaches walking around as he complains.
"That's why I didn't want you to have them, I knew you'd lose them."
You can't even stand up for yourself because you're in the wrong. It's your fault and the last person you'd want to admit that to is sunho and even if you don't want to admit it he's probably right. Maybe you shouldn't have kept them. But you didn't think anything like this would happen.
"Maybe someone broke into my house" you finally say your tone quiet and sorrowful.
But there weren't any signs of a break in when you searched every inch of your house.
You're neighborhood is one of the safest neighborhoods in town, if not first place in safety. That's why you wanted to move there. So you doubt someone would break into your house to just steal that one folder, because that's the only thing that was missing including the vase you got from your grandmother.
"You're just making excuses" sunho scoffs "fucking bitch" you hear him mumble. And before you say what your heart wants to say the chief steps in.
All this time he's been quiet listening to you and sunho argue but mostly sunho just rumbling.
"Enough sunho" he says towards sunho who immediately shuts up to your amusement.
"Now y/n tell me what happened"
You explain everything to him, except jungkook. You didn't mention him because he had told you he didn't want anyone who knows him to know that he was living with you. That brought up some questions on your side but he didn't answer them, only vaguely telling you that one of the bar fight guys might still want to fight him. Which still doesn't make sense to you but you respect his wishes wanting to investigate him yourself.
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vetusmemoriae · 1 year
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Dottore x Male!Reader
Author's note: I should be doing a project about Paradise Lost, but I had an idea for a Dottore fanfic and can't let it go away. I can't believe he didn't only get one gnosis but TWO, like- he's the best. I don't want to offend Scaramouche, but boy... he didn't do shit and that's so sad smh. Dottore, instead, cleaned after your mess and got both the gnosis you lost and the dendro gnosis.
Summary: This takes place after Dottore "leaves" for the first time, Y/n is aware of his doings, and once Dayha and Aether discover this, they're eager to go take everything out of Y/n. What they don't know, is that they're not the only ones to be aware of Y/n.
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Recommended song to listen!
Seeing Dottore go after such a long time would never be a pleasant sight for Y/n. Maybe there was drug in one of the coffees Dottore had with him, but he didn't want the doctor to go away, though meybe it was for the better. As one of the consultants of the port, the Fatui had contact with him from a long time ago, and he was aware of some of their concerns in Sumeru. What Y/n realized not so long ago, while he and Dottore were talking, is that he wasn't really a stranger.
'I must know what are your concerns in Sumeru before letting you deposit any belongings here.' Said Y/n while both of them were walking around Port Ormos, searching for a cafe to sit and talk for a while.
'I think you might already know, Y/n. A Fatui's work is business. I don't want anything else.'
'You may be a doctor, but, even if I don't look like one, I'm a scholar too. As one, I'm not stupid. Fatui's business never bring any good. News say Liyue suffered an attack from the Fatui not so long ago. I will need more information if you want this to go right over my head and not inform the city of your arrive, as I would do usually.'
'A prudent boy... I am no terrorist, not like the child in Liyue. We were all kind of... disappointed with him and his actions. But I am nothing like him, Y/n, I am a civilised man, willing to give something to get something in exchange. I will throw myself to the pool, perhaps you want money?'
'Perhaps not. I don't need money, and it would mean nothing in exchange for Sumeru's safety.'
'I'm afraid that's not one of your concerns, right?'
'You guess right. I just want to share a cup of coffee or tea, and talk. Once I get to know you and you get to know me, I will know if I should let any of your equipment in.'
Both of them went into a cafe, and instead of being greeted of greeting anyone, they went without asking right into one of the private rooms, where a waiter recived them and took their orders.
There, they talked for a while. To both of their surprise, they had more in common than anyone would suspect. Apart from some ideas, from some ways of thinking, they were from the same village. Little more they needed to say. Y/n let Dottore's equipment in, and a nice friendship begun.
That's what happened around a month ago. They met at least six times a week in the same spot, only to talk about memories. Y/n should have been worried about being close to a Fatui, but there was no way Dottore could hurt him, right? They were friends, more than that, not even once Dottore let the Fatui subordinates to interrupt them, they were ordered to take care that no one interrupted them. There was even a rumor that Y/n and Dottore had already met before. There were two lines of thinking between the Fatui regarding Y/n and Dottore: Some thought Dottore was gaining his trust to use him later on, some other said his interest was genuine. But none of them suspected anything beyond that.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Coming to the departure of Dottore, Y/n saw it from afar with a sad look on his face. He didn't know what could happen, if he would be back, and if he had done the right thing leting him in in the first place... But there he was, sitting at the ship go away. When he stood up he didn't have any time to leave before Dayha and Aether stopped him.
'You seem to know The Doctor, am I right?' Said the woman, with her hand at Y/n's neck.
'What about it? He left.'
'We need to know what's he about.'
'What do you mean?'
'The Fatui are enver up to any good...'
'Yeah!' Claimed Paimon. 'That weirdo never does anything good! Paimon's sure he'll be back'
'Why would I know?'
'We know you've been talking with him time and time again. Now, speak before I change my mind and go for the hard way instead.'
'I can't say a thing, I know nothing.'
'There's no way you have been talking with him for hours and know nothing'
'Paimon thinks the same! That's suspicious... Talk before we beat you up!'
'I am no fighter, please, believe me, I can't say anything'
Dahya got her claymore in hand, ready to swing it at the helpless man that didn't want to know where he got into. He tried to walk back, rather falling into the ground that to be about to be beaten up. But she stopped right before she hit him.
'I knew you would show up.' Beside Y/n was Dottore, with the calm that characterized him. 'Tell us what you will do, or he get's it.'
'It would be reckless of me to tell you what I plan on doing. You should already know, I'm nothing more than a scholar, a researcher with an experiment.'
'I should have no mercy with you...'
'You are just a big mean guy!'
'That's hurtful... You, traveller, should tell your little companion to speak less, bad things can happen.'
'Paimon is not...!'
'Shut up.' Dottore got closer to them. 'As nº 2 of the Fatui, I have a work to do, business; and as a scholar, I have a hypothesis to verify and an experiment to finish. Be so kind and leave, or I'll have to take measures.'
'You don't intimidate us, Dottore. By your own you're useless.'
'Useless...?' Dottore seemed annoyed, a never good sight.
'You only came for your little price, you used him, because you knew we would come to him to get information about you. You can have a like in him, but there's no way you really care about him.' Dahya looked at Y/n. 'A Harbinger would never feel anything positive towards anyone, even less towards a merchant like any other.'
'I know what you want to do, Dahya. You won't get it.' Dottore let in sight a small ball, a strange smell flourishing from it. 'It has been running from some minutes now, it should be doing effect by now, right?'
Dahya tried to stay up, but wasn't able to hold her weapon or stand anymore. The traveler took his weapon out and swinged it at Dottore, trying to get him, he too fell right before the Fatui.
'Useless fucks...' Muttered him, crouching to get a better view of his victims. 'How dare them mess with what's mine...'
But Y/n was not asleep, he was still there, watching horrified how some strangers were unconscious, all because the Fatui that treated him kindly. Dottore looked at Y/n with no expresion, and all that came out was a light smile before he stood up again.
'They will be away for a while now. You didn't fall for it because you were exposed to little doses as we met.'
'Did they say the truth?'
'About what?'
'About you just using me.' Dottore said nothing. 'So it's true.'
'You think so? That all the time I spent with you was... nothing? You learned nothing. If I didn't care about us I'd have never spent time with you in the first place. I sacrificed my time and when someone comes talking otherwise you chose to believe them. You hurt me...'
'I'm sorry, I-'
'No talking will take you out of this. You belittled me... I expected more of you.'
'I just want to know the truth. Was there any point on meeting me, in hanging out with me so frequently, if you're going to ignore me from now on? I might be only entertainment, but that would be something. If your plan was that they came to me so you can get them, tell so. I think I already know the answer.'
'Then say it.'
'I want to hear it from you.'
'You entertain me, yes. Want anything else?'
'Say again what you said to them?'
'What are you talking about.'
'I will leave if you don't say it.'
'I have my ways of stopping you.'
'But why would you, what do you want from me so much that you rather not letting me go than killing me. You can keep me shut that way too.'
'But I won't, and rather than confront me about me, you should be grateful.'
'I may then say what you said:' Dottore didn't interrupt him. 'you said you own me.'
'And what so if I did? You have no say in that.'
'So you meant it, you consider me of you possession and I'm cherished as such.'
'Better as a possession than nothing at all, right?'
'I don't question it, but...'
'Don't "but". I'll leave now, I have better things to do.' Dottore got ready to leave. 'I won't save you again, I recommend you leave now.'
Before explaining further, Dottore left, leaving Y/n confused on the ground. At the traveller's hand twitching, Y/n got up and left. What now? Surely Dottore wouldn't come back in a while, right?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the sages died, Y/n was aware this was Dottore's doing. Y/n had been hiding for a while, being nowhere to be found and escaping from everyone's sight. Now his plan was over, it must be, he should be able to stop hiding. He had no time to think about it when he was found by a group of Fatuis. It was not the first time Y/n saw a group of Fatuis, but it was the first time since he started hiding, since he knew nothing of Dottore. Maybe they were there to kill him, to take him away.
'The 2nd Harbinger, Dottore, wants to see you.'
'For what?' They didn't answer. 'I will keep going...'
'He ordered that if you don't come willingly, we make you.'
'He's willing to let you hurt me? His plan surely went wrong.'
'We won't, but we have our means.'
'I will go, there's nothing else for me right now.'
Y/n accompanied them, and stopped when, right in front of the ship Dottore came in, he saw him waiting patiently. He was happy, way to happy to anyone's good: ruining that happiness would be dangerous, and so Y/n didn't, he came into the ship without questions. Dottore let Y/n in, in front of him.
'I see you were not hurt, that's great.'
'Was all you wanted to kill the sages?'
'The sages! No, that was not my fault, it was the traveller and the archon's doing, no, I just wanted some... pieces. And the experiment is over, and as I said before...' The ship took off, taking Y/n with them. 'I just have to take the remainings.'
'I have no say in this, right?'
'You get it now! The Fatui will have their trophy, and I will have mine: you.'
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Hi!!! Tbh this is my favourite fanfic until now, I love that yandereish side and I'm very proud of how it turned out. Yesterday I dreamed about him and I'm still left with some need of Dottore. I'm all in for mad scientists <3
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fatphobiabusters · 1 month
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Does anyone know where to find 3-4xl tradgoth fatshion? /nf
Sorry if this is the wrong blog to ask
Hi! This isn't the wrong blog to ask! I've separated this answer into parts to make this post easier to read.
Option 1: Independent Artists
I'm not super knowledgeable about where to buy fatshion myself. If I'm not simply buying from Torrid and hoping for the best, I'm probably buying from @mayakern. She's mainly known for her skirts, but she also sells shirts and I think is branching out to even more clothing types. These two skirts of hers may work for a goth aesthetic, and I think one is still available as a miniskirt as well.
A similar store is @freshhotflavors. They have an online store here along with their Tumblr. I haven't personally bought from them, but they work with Maya Kern. I've bought many a skirt from Maya Kern over the years and know her dedication to quality. She also has been very understanding with me about exchanging one of her skirts I accidentally got double of for christmas. So the fact that she works with Fresh Hot Flavors encourages me to trust FHF as well. I believe they sell some of her skirts in maxi length, but they sell a variety of other stuff too!
An artist that FHF works with who seems to make a lot of goth clothing is @vetiverfox. This is their website. I haven't bought from this artist either, but their skirts seem to be similar to Maya Kern's with the sizing, elastic waistband, and type of fabric used. So if their clothes are anything like Maya Kern's, I would give them a shot. Each of these three artists sell skirts that go up to a 6XL (though I think Maya has mentioned having some skirts that go up to 8XL too). I've only been talking about skirts, but each of these artists sells more than that.
Option 2: User Suggestions
I'm hoping our followers may have some advice for you about where to buy goth fatshion. @fine-ass-fatshion has knowledge about fatshion for sure. We've also recently reblogged some great goth fatshion from @wisteriaawillow, so I would definitely suggest asking them for advice on where to buy goth fatshion too. @iridessence wears a lot of pretty fatshion on her main blog, but her side blog @luxus-aeterna would be more your style. I don't know if the clothes she wears on that blog are technically goth or simply make me think of gothic clothing due to being historical clothing with generally darker fabrics, but look at her side blog just in case. I believe her FAQ mentions that she gives detailed information about how to find the clothes she wears if you donate to her work.
Option 3: Tailoring and Getting Creative
A lot of fat people have to resort to sewing and making their own clothes, but this can include taking stuff and simply making adjustments to them. For example, dyeing a shirt a more goth color, taking dollar store trinkets and making them into jewelry, etc. You can even do some clothing adjustments without needing to know how to sew! That's how I used to make my cosplays. People have suggested before to not discard the idea of going to a tailor either. If you happen to find some clothing you like but doesn't fit you, a tailor can help.
Option 4: Etsy and Commissions
Websites like Etsy sometimes can be a goldmine for specific aesthetics. However, Etsy tends to be expensive due to shipping and/or items being handmade by artists. I also hate that a lot of artists on Etsy charge fat people more money for the same product. Additionally, Etsy is probably a better store for accessories rather than your main outfit.
If you're willing to pay for the quality of handmade clothing fitted specifically for your body type and measurements, I've honestly considered the idea myself of commissioning cosplay artists for clothing, which can be done through Etsy or by meeting cosplay artists at anime conventions. If you go to a local anime convention and meet an artist there, you may even find an artist so local that you can try on the clothes during the process of making them so that you know they definitely will fit you at the end. I've thought about this usually regarding cosplay, but a cosplayer who does commissions would probably be able to make clothing that isn't for cosplaying a character as long as you gave them references.
Option 5: Online Stores and Our Pinned Post
Lastly, our pinned post has a link to our FAQ Google Doc, and that Google Doc includes links to online stores that sell plus size clothing. And here is a link to a post we shared about a month ago that has resources for buying jfashion. A lot of of the photos on the post include fatshion that could be useful for a goth aesthetic, though I say that without much knowledge about goth clothing.
I hope one of these suggestions will be of help to you!! Have a good day! cx
-Mod Worthy
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gplusbfics · 8 months
Text
youtube
Anson Mount Talks About the Strike
Last weekend at Dragon Con I attened a couple of great panels with cast members of Discovery and Strange New Worlds. Due to the strike, discussion of the actual shows was off the table and so moderators and audience members had to limit their questions to other things. It worked nicely, IMO. Anyway, the one exception to the not-talking-about-the-thing was in a panel Saturday moderated by Garrett Wang (Harry Kim, Voyager) featuring Christina Chong, Celia Rose Gooding, Anson Mount, Ethan Peck.
Wang kicked things off by talking about the strike for a minute and then handed things over to Anson Mount. I don't know if he knew in advance, but Mount proceeded to deliver parable about the SAG strike that was just epic. I had to wait a few days to locate video but once I did, I transcribed it to share. I've cued the clip so it starts right as Mount begins to speak, but I'm including Garrett Wang's intro in the transcript.
Garret Wang: I'm going to start right now with a discussion on the strike. Let's talk about the strike. I think we should. So a lot of people have misconceptions about the strike. Just to give us some facts, just to lay it out there: Onl7 87% of SAG's membership make enough per year to have health insurance. That threshold is what-- is it $26,000? Something around there, something very low. And that's not per month, that's per year. So not every actor is Tom Cruise. This strike is really not about greedy actors, this is about being treated fairly, about being treated with respect, which is not happening right now."
Anson Mount: Imagine you're sitting in a bar in Los Angeles and outside this big, stretch limo pulls up. The limo is hauling behind it a mega-yacht and the mega-yacht has got one of those helicopter pads on it, with a gold-plated helicopter on it. And from the back of the limo steps a guy with a $7,000 Italian suit, he's got a 24-carat gold tie pin, slicked-back hair, little pencil-thin mustache. He's got an assistant, whose got an assistant, whose got an assistant.
And he walks in the bar and he sees you and he sidles up next to the bar and he says, "Have I got a deal for YOU!" And you say, "Okaaay, what's the deal?" And he says, "Well! I'm starting a business in this brand new field called entertainment-- and I think you'd make the perfect business partner." And you say, "Entertainment, huh? Is that a very lucrative business?" "Oh, no no no no no, we're not making ANY money."
And you say, "Well, OK, what's in it for me, then?" And he says "Well! I will pay you to come in to work for me for one half a day for minimum wage and in exchange you will grant to me permission to use the video of you performing your expertise, as well as your expertise, for the rest of time, in perpetuity, whenever I want, without paying you any more money or asking permission."
And you say, "I don't know… Have you thought about to include me in this? Like maybe a little small percentage of profit, just a little like 2 percent." And he says, "You're insane! We're standing in the breadlines as it is!" And you say "Wait, wait, wait. If you say you're not making any money, 2 percent of nothing is nothing. You wouldn't have to pay me anything." And he says "That's a wonderful idea! I'll pay you 2 percent always-- of nothing." And you say, "That's not what I'm saying. So: let me put it this way. You must have an independent adjudicator or somebody who counts your numbers and lets everybody, all your shareholders, all your workers, know how the business is doing." "Oh, no no no, our numbers are all proprietary information." And you say, "Well, how do I know how the business is doing?" "Well, you'll just have to trusts me, of course."
And you say, "You know what? I just… under these given circumstances I'm not sure I want to work with you." And he says, "How DARE you?! I am going to walk straight out of this bar and when I come back -- and it won't be for a very long time -- but when I do, you'd better be here here waiting and you had better be grateful for my very generous offer of 2 percent of nothing!" And he whips his cape around and he walks out of the bar, followed by his assistant and his assistant and his assistant, and they all pile into the back of the limousine, and the driver tells his assistant driver, "Peel out!" With the mega-yacht, with the helicopter.
I think at that point, any reasonable person would turn to the bartender and say, "I think that guy's out of his fucking mind!" Right? Is it just me?
Garrett Wang: Anson, I gotta say, I've been on many panels and we've had many conversations about the strike, but no one has done a staged reading!"
--
Meanwhile, after dwelling a bit more on the strike, the conversation moves on to (necessarily) non-Star Trek topics and is highly enjoyable.
--
P.S. Yes, I still exist. No longer active on Tumblr but not because I"m boycotting or anything. We just drifted apart. I do still read Garashir fic but mainly just the same 20 favorites I saved to Instapaper, over and over :)
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joesalw · 5 months
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You are just jealous that Taylegend has more hits than all your shitty faves combined. I swear.
It's literally so misgynistic for still hating on Taylor Swift. She's a legend and if people don't respect that they are fucking stupid. And that's my opinion. I'm allowed to have an opinion.
I don't even know why they gave her so much crap for dating that Matty Healy. It was never confirmed. Just because they were seen together and she invited him on stage, doesn't mean anything. Like she has black friends. And they aren't together anymore. Like what more do you want? It's not her damn job or her business to speak for minorities. She is a damn singer.
And if she wants to call a shitty Netflix show out for insulting her, that is literally her business. And fans absolutely should do everything to defend her because she's gifting them with her music. What does Taylor get in exchange? Money..But can she listen to money? No.
This actress had the choice not to say the line for insulting our Queen, so she made the choice of being attacked. Like. I swear.
People are even bitching at her for polluting the planet. First of all. Stop. Just right there. She's not the only one at fault okay. You drive a car, when you could easily walk or use a bike. I swear you only hate her because she is a woman. If Taylor Swift chooses to use her private jet then that's her decision. If you are criticising a woman for making a decision you are misogynistic. And for the information. She borrows her jet to her poor friends. It's literally so charitable of her so they don't have to fly commercial with a bunch of strangers packed in a room together. She cares about people more about the environment. And if that's her preference. Let her be. Like trees don't have feeling like humans do.
And Travis is the only guy in Taylors life that realized that he is with a Queen. A prize that should be cherished. He knows she is above him and that's what a healthy relationship should look like. If it's not constantly in the news it's not a good relationship. And Travis bought a house for them. Something Joe's poor ass never could afford. Like poor Taylor. She waited 34 years for a man do to anything special for her. Do you know how hard it is to live like that?
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Y'all is this satire or serious?
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buckybarnesss · 8 months
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I would love to hear your take on how Stiles organized the trip to Mexico and got everyone on board with saving Derek between S3 and S4.
so here's the thing. they show a flashback in the dark moon as to what occurred. i think it's important to remember that derek is kidnapped in the direct aftermath of stiles being processed and allison dying. so needless to say people have things go on.
it's scott that realizes something is amiss. he and stiles have this exchange:
stiles: "okay. so how long has it been?" scott: "weeks. he hasn't gotten back to any of my texts." stiles: "has derek ever returned your texts?" scott: "once. definitely once."
the derek and scott dynamic is unhinged. you know bastard man derek hale leaves scott on read constantly and that one time he answered was probably "k" or some shit.
love how stiles specifically says "your" texts. not any or our but your. derek totally responds to stiles. scott goes on to say it felt different and he went to the loft where he found the alarm still on and everything seemed okay but he found the shell casings left behind by the calaveras.
i actually assume it felt different to scott because by this time scott is an alpha now. while i don't think he and derek and necessarily pack he and derek do have a complicated connection that might've allowed him to sense something was off.
scott explains that he contacted deaton who informed him that the casings belong to the calaveras out of mexico.
he brought lydia to see if she could get anything off the shell casings. she feels like something isn't right and is seemingly sensing derek's state of suspension being unable to truly tell if he's alive or dead.
scott is the one who decides mexico is where they look after stiles asks how they find the calaveras.
what's interesting in this flashback in regards to stiles is that he asks twice if derek's dead. he is anxious mcanxious person. he sounds upset when he asks lydia if derek's dead. he is also the one that insists scott go on ahead with braeden to go find derek and he's the own who recognizes teen derek.
the attachment is real.
i think the plan to get derek was a scott-n-stiles plan. it has all the hallmarks of both their cleverness and also their recklessness. going directly into the calaveras stronghold? insane.
the money is from the events of silverfinger from the japanese mafia that was used by void stiles to set derek and chris argent up for murder. araya says as much.
i don't think it'd take much for them to convince anyone to go. derek's theirs even if they're not best friends he's their local cryptid damn it. kira hung out with derek the pervious season. malia may have been indifferent but came along anyway because she was asked by her new friends. lydia is devoted to scott and stiles by this point and reasonably is concerned about derek because she's a normal person.
scott and derek have a complicated relationship that is layered but under it all all is a firm belief on both sides that they are the only person allowed to annoy, torment and kick each other's asses.
stiles is just unhinged about derek hale. news at 11.
tl;dr the dumbass duo goes to rescue the dumbass that completes them.
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