What If…

Mycroft Territory (Part One)

This is the second of my blog resources for fanfic writers who want to create a better sense of place by including stuff about London that is relevant to specific areas. 

In this case, I’m talking about St James, Westminster and Whitehall,, all three of which add up to the seat of British Government. 

St James

Let’s take St James first.  Bounded to the north by Piccadilly and Mayfair, to the west by Green Park, to the south by The Mall and St James’s Part and to the east by Haymarket. The home of the Buckingham Palace, St James’ Palace and Clarence House, royal residences to this day. Think  aristocrats, think of Savile Row and Jermyn Street. The Mall, and of course, The Diogenes Club.

If you’ve been a tourist in London, this is an area you are highly likely to have been to visit. You may, however, be less familiar with its history. 

The area’s name is linked to St James the Lesser (where have we heard THAT name before? Mary’s skip code and John’s bonfire night) It was the name of a leper hospital in the 12th century which was knocked down to build St James’s Palace. 

In the 17th century the area developed as a residential location for the British aristocracy. Clarence House, Spencer House, Lancaster House, Marlborough House- these are all masterpieces of English architecture built for the aristocrats to enjoy the “London season” before returning to their estates in the country. 

By the mid-19th century, it was the chosen place for a whole slew of gentlemen’s clubs: The Reform, The Travellers, The RAC, The Oxford and Cambridge Club, The Army and Navy Club, The East India Club, etc. Since the re-development of London post WW2, the area has moved from residential to more commercial premises. That said, many of the gentlemen’s outfitters of Savile Row and Jermyn Street have been there for centuries, and Fortnum & Mason’s was their local grocery store.

Whitehall

Whitehall is small but packed with power because this is civil service land. The Ministry of Defence, Horse Guards, etc now, but the history is even more interesting. Ever since the 12th century Whitehall was the route from Charing Cross to Westminster. Henry VIIth built “York Palace” on the route, which Henry VIIIth re-named Whitehall Palace. It was a rather splendid place. He married Anne Boleyn here. It was the palace of the Stuarts, too. By 1680 it looked like this: 

If you zoom in, you will notice something interesting. 

Yes, that’s SCOTLAND YARD, the very first one. As the Stuarts were Scottish kings, this is what the area was called. And it was the site much later of the very first home of the Metropolitan Police. 

When New Scotland Yard moved from Victoria to its new home, it was to a site on the Thames that is on this map, just above the V in River. 

So, now you know why it was called Scotland Yard. 

To be continued in Part Two, Westminster (which includes Belgravia

Im obsessed with that blue daddy (and his teeth

Friendly reminder that Héctor has been dead much longer than he was alive, he was only 21 thats literally around one 5th of his existence since then he has been a skeleton. What if he doesn’t really remember being alive, sure he has his memories of events, he remembers the people in his life but specifically what a living body felt like? Not so much. 

One of the twins mentions missing his nose, Héctor shrugs as he touches his fingers to his nasual bone, it’s been so long it feels like he just always never had one.

Rosita watches as he helps her cook one day, accidently spliling a boiling pot of water down himself, she smiles and points out a least he hasn’t got skin that can burn. He can’t really remember what it felt like to be burnt. 

Imelda holds his hands in hers, stroking his fingers and comments on how smooth the bones feel compared to his calloused fingertips from years of playing the guitar, he comments on how good her memory is because he had forgotten that before distracting her with kisses. 

Hi, I love a lot of your meta and analyses. Especially for Arcane. One thing that's bothering me is what exactly was Silco's reputation among the Lanes in act 1? It's odd how Vander seems to say he's worse than enforcers, and Benzo even calls him an animal and immediately tries to charge at Silco after Grayson's death. But we know that Silco only became this ruthless AFTER his attempted murder by Vander. So during the old times when Vander and Benzo knew him, Silco was apparently a "weak man" who wasn't nearly as violent as Vander. So what gives?

Sure, the "animal" line could just be because of the brutal way he killed Grayson and the enforcers, but idk, the way he immediately charges Silco no questions asked seems to indicate something deeper. It's funny too, because Silco murdered only the enforcers that were arresting Vander, and didn't even want to kill Vander until he rejected Silco's plan and refused to join him. So if Benzo just stayed calm and kept his hands to himself Silco would've probably kidnapped them both. Hell, without Benzo's murder hanging over Vander's head, maybe he could've even be persuaded to rejoin Silco for another try at revolution? But the story needs him to refuse, so ofc Benzo had to die.

I'm just wondering why exactly, if Silco was known as the less violent one before Vander tried to kill him, then why do Benzo and Vander in act 1 treat him like he's been a devil the whole time. Did they maybe catch wind of his unpleasant activities while he was underground and building his revolution plans?

Hi Anon! What a great ask! And thank you, you make me blush. It's nice that my horrendous Arcane brain rot actually serves some purpose somehow x'D

This is a very good question and a difficult one—because of the writers. I'm not sure if they really know or care to make sense of Silco and Vander's past. The timeline is shaky and vague. I think they were happy to leave things quite mysterious. Some of us desperately try to unravel it, but the bulk of viewers took it all at face value and concluded that Silco is a horrible man who did horrible things.

This is not me bashing other fans, all theories are valid, but I must admit sometimes I wonder if the Arcane writers managed to convey their point across. Because I've seen quite a few people theorise that Silco did something truly horrible and 'deserved' to be killed by Vander, despite the lack of evidence or accusation, or the show going to great length to harp about Vander's potential for change, of his "monster within" who caves in skulls with his fists.

(Not to mention the casual fans who thought the sun shone out of Vander's ass because they couldn't see past Vi's pov and didn't do dozens of obsessive rewatches like yours truly).

My point is that their relationship is pretty complicated and there are plenty of dissenting theories. And I think a lot of people go one way or the other precisely around those moments you mention. I'm going to give you my theory, but it's very fanon. I'm genuinely a lot less certain about this than some of my other meta. It's just what gels for me considering how I interpret the rest of the show.

I'm going to put this under a cut, because there's a lot!

What exactly was Silco's reputation among the Lanes in act 1?

I don't think Silco was weak. That's him reframing his trauma. Not just weak physically (like obviously he could never fight Vander off fairly), but for having trusted him. Weak for not seeing the betrayal coming, and not coming on top of that conflict. He calls his old self weak because he must believe in his own progress, his own resurrection into a being who can enact his plans at last. 

I think Silco was a beacon of hope and zealotry. I think he was a propaganda machine. Young Silco united a lot of Zaun under the banner of his dream. He probably worked hard, and led the movement. From the way their dialogue goes, the accusation of betrayal, saying "I trusted you", and the manner of Silco's attitude around Vander, I'm of the (generally not that popular) sentiment that Silco was the leader of the early rebellion, and that Vander was his follower. Most likely his right hand man.

In fic I've theorised that Vander, who tells Vi he used to always be so angry and violent, didn't have a channel for said violence until Silco gave him structure and a purpose. Directed that violence at Piltover, at creating (read, carving out) the Lanes.

Which, FYI, are NEVER clarified. We don't know if it's a business model or a territory or both. Writers truly don't care to explain it.

Anyway, Silco speaks of "our dream" and then uses "brother" with a LOT of irony laced in, in reply to Vander's own use of the term. They used to be brothers in arms and Vander believed in that dream. We also know that Vander used to fight for the cause and claims he's "not that man anymore".

He basically was fighting for team Silco—team Zaun—right until the day of the betrayal.

Then we're told by Vander that Silco had his respect, the Lanes' respect, "but that... was never enough for you". We're also told by Sevika that Vander created the Lanes.

This suggests to me that Silco and Vander created the Lanes together. 

I assume that over time Vander started seeing Silco's plans as too greedy, while leading the Lanes seemed ideal. 'Good enough', if you will. Vander is small minded where Silco is aiming for the sun. One wants too little and the other too much. Silco says they 'shared a vision, dreams of freedom, not just for the Lanes but for the whole of the Underground, united as One'. They used to dream of Zaun together... And then Vander realised Silco would tear the Lanes apart if it would serve his purpose (to attack Piltover). 

I think he didn't believe it'd work (and given what we see of Piltover vs. Zaun before shimmer, it might not have), and realised he wanted to rule the Lanes. Vander would now see Silco's dreams as too dangerous.

I know some people in the Zaundads community who theorised that Vander was influenced in turning on Silco by Benzo or others. It's not my prefered theory.

I think Vander wanted the Lanes for himself, and knew that Silco was too zealous to ever stop. We don't know why he got so (intimately) violent. Why they were in the Pilt. We see Vander first very cold, slowly drowning Silco, then very hot and brutal, once he's been hurt. I think he was very different indeed from the genial Vander we know in arc 1. Young Vander is the guy who carved the Lanes with his fists. The guy who built the reputation old Vander still coasts on. A guy known by foreigners! In short, it doesn't really help to look at him through the old Vander lens. He did what he did..

And THEN, he hid the (most likely black and contaminated) wound from Silco's knife. While Silco wears his scar unashamed for what must be a decade or two, Vander has his arm constantly covered. This speaks of shame to me. We know he had regrets too :

Truly a young, impulsive, violent man, who rushed into a bad decision and has regretted it since. I can picture a young Vander missing his best friend, his guiding light, and yet finally becoming the leader he wanted to be. Curtailing Silco's uprising entirely and settling, at least until his own revolt. 

We know there was only one time where the rebellion went ahead, and that was well after Silco left. Vander, to the assembled Lanes people, says "we crossed that bridge once before". It's the era where he still had Silco's respect, but was immediately followed by his pact with Grayson. Which Silco knew of.

Sorry... I'm rambling to try and get all the details in... Almost there.

Finally we come to Vander holding his (shamefully hidden) wound and saying "there's worse things than enforcers out there, we both know that."

And I'm not sure WHAT HE MEANS!! Like, this is not proof he knows Silco is alive. My personal feeling is that Vander believes there's a chance Silco might be alive, but he's not actively taking precautions like that's a possibility. Silco's attack wouldn't have come out of left field and taken them so completely by surprise otherwise.

There are plenty of things worse than enforcers. Including himself!! He could mean competing chembarons. He could mean someone wanting his seat. He could mean anything, it's infuriating. 

Anyway, I think Vander came back from the Pilt with a bad stab wound and a story. I think he told everyone that Silco attacked him and died. That he turned traitor. Or any other bullshit story. But I believe he did what any new illegitimate ruler does, and shat all over Silco's reputation. Or else cried some crocodile tears over him and called him dead. But Silco never stepped back into the open, so Vander making him persona non grata is more likely. 

Whatever the case, Vander had completely taken over the Lanes by the time Silco was in good enough health to show up.

Did they run into each other? Did Vander scare him off again? I'm not sure, but I don't think so. Vander looks way too shocked when he realises who's showing up at the murder party. This isn't the expression of someone who is used to thwarting schemes. This isn't the Batman's face when the Joker appears with mischief around a street corner.

Meanwhile, why would Benzo react so negatively to Silco? The well respected man who was betrayed (a fact Vander owns up to and APOLOGISES for), who was half drowned and mutilated by Vander's hand... Yet Benzo immediately calls him an animal (which, you're right, could be in reaction to stepping into a mass killing—which, fair), and tells him to "crawl back into whatever hole he came out of."

I feel like this is the reaction of someone who thinks "wow, it's the cunt who harmed my bestie 20 years ago and (insert Vander's lies about him). Who knew he was still alive?"

Meanwhile, Vander looks like it's judgement day. I think he has excellent reasons to be afraid. He stole the Lanes, destroyed Silco's dreams, ruined his rep, drove him out of the Underground... and somehow Silco stayed under the radar all this time? And now he's got killer monsters? Of course he'd be scared. Vander knows how intense Silco used to be, and knows how guilty he himself is. I think he believes all bets are off. Precisely because Silco never had a reputation as a weak man. 

I mean, consider! If Vander was mega violent under Silco's guidance... If they built the Lanes together... If Silco was the leader who helped Vander redirect his rage... Then Silco clearly didn't mind being extremely violent. He didn't mind unleashing "the Hound" on the people who stood in the way of Zaun. 

((I think Silco's "weak" narrative is a self soothing framing device. That he's recontextualising himself, making a philosophy of life. After all, he tries to use these same terms to speak to Jinx about her own trauma, while failing to grasp that while he was at his weakest, Powder was at her strongest. His personal motto of letting the weak die doesn't work for Jinx.))

It's very revealing that Vander says "Benzo stay back!" and Silco says "you never did know when to walk away." Like if he'd stayed back and then walked away, he'd have been fine. I fully agree that this tells us that Vander thinks Silco is only after him. That he wouldn't kill Benzo needlessly. Needless deaths were probably never Silco's style, as someone wanting to 'unite' the Underground. And after all, he's not even here to kill Vander, but to recruit him.

So, yeah... In conclusion (at last lol) 

Silco was never weak, simply too big a dreamer, someone who wouldn't surrender his lofty ideals for the reality of being one of the most powerful men in the Undercity. Ultimately he got in young Vander's way. Vander impulsively sacrificed Silco for his own desire to rule the Lanes. Then he turned around, shameful and regretful, and lied to everyone about it as he usurped Silco's place and became the Lanes' sole leader. 

(I personally theorised in several fics that the last Drop was actually Silco's, and that Vander took over it after the betrayal, partially explaining why Silco never leaves the place after his own takeover. Complicated feelings + it was his and fuck Vander lol)

I don't believe Benzo or Vander have any clue about Silco's plans, and simply react based on what they know and imagine (Benzo based on whatever Vander told him, and Vander based on how fucked he has to be and how insanely dedicated Silco must still be). I believe Vander has a lot of double agents in his midst (Sevika, Syd), and people who've been keeping tabs on him for years. 

Counter-argument : Marcus says he spoke to one of Vander's "old friends" and that he "wasn't always so peaceful". You could think this may have tipped Vander off... But how many people did he leave behind or crush when creating the Lanes? How many people hate him for leading the failed uprising? I think it's still plausible that Vander doesn't suspect Silco's involvement. 

Vander just lacks cunning. Another final argument for him being totally clueless is that he had a direct line to Grayson, and a quick, 'Hey, okay I'll tell you who stole your stuff' pointing fingers towards Silco would have entirely solved the situation for him.

Yet he never is shown to consider it. 

PHEW. I think that covers it?? I think I covered every point? At least that's how I interpret this situation, even though it relies heavily on my own fanon readings of the timeline and a lot of other details. 

If anyone disagrees with this, or wants to double down, as always go crazy. I love me a meta pile on. 

Please tell us more about Voldemort's relationship with Severus, and why you think it differs so much from Voldemort's other relationships

Whatever it is that lingers between Tom and Severus—power, manipulation, some dark bond none of us can fully grasp—it naturally ignites chaos in the mind of the beholders. And if you’re eager to feel that burn, I’ll gladly embrace you in it. To you brave, reckless souls, I say this: your wish is my command.

So, here we are, picking apart how Severus Snape—mudblood, poor, and bruised from the heavy hand of a Muggle father—managed to land himself a spot at the table with the most rabid pack of blood purists you’ve ever seen. A table, mind you, he had no business sitting at. The Death Eaters, that tight little clique of privileged purebloods, had no real reason to let in this scruffy little outsider. Sure, Snape was useful. Very useful. His skills were sharp as knives, and he could do their dirty work, get his hands filthy so they didn’t have to. But useful doesn’t mean welcome. Useful doesn’t mean accepted. You know who else was useful? Fenrir Greyback and his mangy lot. They brought terror to the doorsteps of half the wizarding world, and did Voldemort’s cause no small service. But did they get a place at the inner circle? Did they get respect? Hell no. They were the dirt beneath the boots of the real Death Eaters. Useful filth. And then there’s Snape, embodying everything these purists claim to despise—a half-blood with a tainted surname, living in squalor, dragged through the muck by a Muggle brute of a father. By all accounts, Death Eaters should have spat in his face and tossed him out like yesterday’s rubbish. But no. Not only does he get a seat at the table, he rises. He’s placed on a pedestal, standing closer to Voldemort than some of the most loyal, purest-blooded lackeys in the room. Voldemort, in all his cold-blooded glory, didn’t just tolerate Severus. He raised him up, right in front of their sneering, offended faces. Now, here’s where it gets really interesting. If you think Voldemort did this out of some sense of gratitude, you’ve missed the point entirely. Tom Riddle doesn’t do gratitude. That kind of sentiment is beneath him, an alien concept. Voldemort doesn’t reward; he uses. Deeds done in his name are expected, not appreciated. You’re not going to get a pat on the back from a man who thinks the world owes him its loyalty. Snape’s service should’ve earned him nothing more than a brief reprieve from pain. A loosening of the noose around his neck, if he was lucky. That’s Voldemort’s way—keep them all desperate, keep them all afraid. So why did Snape, of all people, get raised up? Why did he, the least likely among them, become a favorite?

Mind, it’s not just me declaring Snape as Voldemort’s favorite. That dark, twisted bond is laced into nearly every interaction between the two, as if something unspoken and festering passes between them. But it’s Narcissa Malfoy who lays it bare. A woman born into the highest echelons of pure-blood privilege, the very foundation on which Voldemort’s so-called supremacy stands, doesn’t hesitate when she calls him “the Dark Lord’s favorite, his most trusted advisor.” Let that sink in.

Here is the wife of Lucius Malfoy, a man whose lineage is steeped in the darkest of traditions. But when her family’s future is on the edge of a wand, when her son’s life dangles by a thread, she doesn’t rely on Lucius, doesn’t turn to Bellatrix. No, she comes to Severus, because deep down, she knows. They all do.

It’s something more insidious, something that slips through the cracks in the floorboards of Voldemort’s ideology. He is the one Voldemort trusts, the one Voldemort leans on, the one whose counsel can shift the dark winds of fate. That is real power, raw and untouchable. Narcissa sees it—how could she not? Even with all her aristocratic pride, even with the weight of her name and her family’s legacy pressing down on her, she understands that none of it means a damn thing next to what Snape has. Narcissa, with her family’s long, proud heritage, has to grovel before someone who, by the very logic of Voldemort’s cause, should be inferior. But Snape is different, and everyone knows it. They may not say it, they may not even want to admit it, but they know. He operates outside the lines, above the fray, immune to the very rules that were meant to keep people like him down. Snape, the half-blood, the one with the muddied past, holds a kind of sway that no one else in Voldemort’s ranks can claim.

Oh, there comes the bitter irony of Peter Pettigrew. After years of scraping and groveling, thinking he’d earned his place in the Dark Lord’s favor, Peter is handed over like a rag for Severus to wring out. Peter, one of the smug Marauders who’d gleefully hounded Snape through school, reduced now to something just shy of a house-elf, bowing and cringing under Snape’s very roof. A cruel twist of fate, no doubt arranged with Voldemort’s signature malevolence. Was this some attempt to plant a spy in Snape's house? Maybe, if you take it at face value. But think for a moment—Voldemort, who couldn’t pry Snape's treachery from his skull with all the power of Legilimency, putting his trust in Wormtail to do the job? The rat that couldn't outsmart a dormitory prank, never mind a master of deception like Severus?

No, this isn’t espionage; this is karma. Cruel, twisted karma orchestrated by the Dark Lord himself. You can almost picture Severus watching Peter scuttle about his house, casting him those withering, superior glances—knowing full well that Tom has given him this indulgence, this little taste of vengeance. Snape treats Wormtail with open contempt, because he knows he can. He knows it’s allowed, expected even. It’s as if the tables have turned in the most bitter of ways, a humiliating reversal of fortune. Pettigrew, who once revelled in Snape’s humiliation, now reduced to the lowest of roles, while Snape—Voldemort’s golden boy—sits at the top. Isn’t it delicious? You’d have to be blind to chalk it up to coincidence. Moreover, Pettigrew’s fate is all the proof you’ll ever need that Voldemort’s rule isn’t founded on something as simple or sentimental as loyalty. Loyalty? Sacrifice? Please. Pettigrew’s life was one long, groveling act of desperation to stay in the Dark Lord’s good graces. You bring your master back from the brink of death itself, and still, all you get is contempt. Voldemort demands service, sure. But service? Guarantees nothing. And when you set Severus and Peter side by side, the question gnaws at you. Why? Why is Snape the favored one, the exception, the enigma in Voldemort’s otherwise brutal, predictable hierarchy? What makes him different? There’s something between them—something that doesn’t follow the usual logic of power and punishment. Voldemort doesn’t just tolerate Snape’s defiance; he rewards it, bends the system to accommodate it. Something unspoken, something hidden behind the masks they both wear, grants Snape a level of favor that Pettigrew could only dream of.

What’s crucial to grasp here is that Voldemort doesn’t spare anyone. His entire ideology is rooted in cruelty, in domination, in the ruthless obliteration of all who oppose him. He doesn’t just eliminate enemies; he obliterates them, wipes them from existence without a second thought. And yet, here’s the anomaly: Lily Evans, mother of Harry Potter, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and a Muggle-born witch, is offered a chance to live. Live. This decision, however, is directly tied to Snape. Snape had begged Voldemort to spare her, and it is this plea—Snape’s plea—that softens the Dark Lord’s otherwise unyielding cruelty.

To truly grasp the enormity of this act, we need to take a step back and consider Snape’s position in all of this. Remember, Severus was just 21 years old when he found himself pleading with Voldemort, one of the most dangerous dark wizard in history, to spare Lily Evans.

Snape wasn’t the imposing, confident figure we often associate with him thanks to Alan Rickman’s performance—he wasn’t a man exuding quiet menace, seemingly capable of standing toe-to-toe with Voldemort. No, at this point in canon, he was barely more than a boy, a young man fresh out of Hogwarts, with no powerful lineage or wealth to protect him.

And yet, despite this—despite the sheer imbalance of power between them—Snape dared to approach Voldemort. Voldemort. With a plea. Not for himself, but for a Muggle-born witch. At best, Snape’s request might have been laughed off, dismissed as the desperate wish of a foolish young Death Eater. But it wasn’t. For some reason, Voldemort didn’t just tolerate Snape’s plea—he actually acted on it.

Consider how critical this moment was to Voldemort’s larger agenda. At the heart of his entire scheme is a singular, consuming fixation: the annihilation of the child prophesied to be his undoing. Harry Potter is Voldemort’s obsession, the one threat he must eliminate to secure his dominion. The Potters were no longer just enemies—they were the key to his future, and Harry was the focus of his most crucial mission. In this context, sparing anyone even remotely connected to Harry was an extraordinary risk. Leniency wasn’t just unnecessary—it was dangerous. By showing mercy to Lily, Voldemort risked undermining his own carefully constructed agenda. And this wasn’t a moment where Voldemort could afford to make mistakes.

This unprecedented act of “mercy,” this concession Voldemort granted Snape, became the very thing that led to his downfall. Had Voldemort simply killed Lily Evans on the spot, as he did James, she would never have had the chance to sacrifice herself for Harry. The protection her sacrifice invoked—the ancient magic that saved Harry’s life and turned Voldemort’s killing curse back on him—would never have existed. Voldemort, the cold strategist, fell because he didn’t bend for anyone—except, inexplicably, for Snape. And that single, dangerous deviation cost him everything. That’s how it’s all started.

And there it is— how it’s all ends. Voldemort’s final words to Severus Snape before he executes him. But pay attention to how he begins. “Clever man,” he calls him. He suggests that Snape might’ve already known the truth of the Elder Wand’s treachery. Tom would never acknowledge someone’s cleverness if it undermined his own intellectual abilities. If he implies that Snape may have already unraveled the mystery of the Elder Wand, it undoubtedly indicates that Voldemort had recognized Snape’s crucial role in the wand’s problems long before. It’s not just idle chatter or casual flattery. No, it’s a bloody confirmation that Voldemort himself had long ago pieced together the mystery of Snape’s involvement with the wand. This wasn’t some last-minute realization that forced his hand. It wasn’t ignorance that delayed Snape’s death, not at all. It was deliberation. Voldemort, for all his cruelty, wasn’t stupid. He suspected, long before that moment, that Snape was at the center of the problem with the wand’s loyalty. He just chose not to act on it until the very last moment.

He held back from executing him, searching for any other way around the wand’s limitations, trying to find a solution that didn’t involve killing Snape. But when it came down to it, when all other options were exhausted, Voldemort finally made his move.

And what does he do? He delivers a speech. A bloody speech, full of regret and excuses—“I regret what must happen.” Does that sound like the Voldemort we know? The Dark Lord who kills without a second thought, who carves his empire from the bones of the disobedient? Hell no. This is the man who thrives on fear, on swift, brutal punishment. And yet, here he is, delivering justifications like some guilty executioner. This isn’t Voldemort’s usual method. This isn’t the whip coming down fast and hard. This is something altogether more… hesitant.

That speech, soaked in rationalizations, tells us everything we need to know. Snape’s death wasn’t just business—it was personal. It’s a messy, ugly end to the unexplainable dynamic between them. Even at the very end, Voldemort is bending, twisting, trying to justify his actions to the one man who had managed to worm his way under his skin. And in that second, we see something rare—a glimpse of the complexity in their relationship. Voldemort’s usual ruthless efficiency is absent.

His “I regret it,” spoken once more, stands out like a blade in the gut, sharp and unexpected, slicing straight through Voldemort’s usual cold indifference. The Dark Lord, who has never spared a thought for the wreckage in his wake, lets these words hang in the air, unnatural as they are. A man who’s never known the weight of remorse now offers something that almost feels like regret. Not true regret, of course—Voldemort doesn’t have the luxury of feeling something so weak, so human. But still, It’s not a sentiment he offers to anyone else. It’s almost as if Voldemort doesn’t know how to process this lingering attachment, as though Snape’s mere existence demands something from him that Voldemort is incapable of giving. Snape occupies some strange corner of Voldemort’s mind, twisted and dark it may be, that not even the Dark Lord himself seems to understand. Despite the fact that I’ve painted a whole canvas of tangled thoughts on the strange relationship between Severus and Tom, I’ve barely begun to tug at the thread of their inexplicable dynamic. There’s so much more I could unearth, layers of intrigue and tension that ripple through every scene between them, and I could easily go on for hours about the small, delicious details woven into their story. But, as it happens, my full-time job is already sharpening its knife and aiming for my back, so I'll have to bring this whole saga to a close with the following quote:

For me, the intensity of this scene speaks volumes about their relationship, capturing the very essence of what makes these two so bloody fascinating. The way their gaze alone can make Death Eaters flinch under the weight of their unspoken understanding. It’s not fear, not exactly. It’s something colder, something deeper. As though they’re witnessing a bond forged in the dark, a grim understanding that none of them can ever be a part of.

That’s what keeps dragging me back to these two. The tension, the labyrinth of contradictions, the complex tangle of manipulation. I want to look away—hell, I should look away, just like the Death Eaters did. But there’s something about it, something that coils around me, tightening like a serpent’s embrace. Can you blame me?

I'm always shocked when I see canon art where Reed is just... ripped. Like, I fully expect him to have at least SOME muscle (he's been a hero for a long time after all) but then there's art where he's just a svelte muscle man and I'm like W O W

Personally, I prefer my Reed very tall and very, very slender, with like…hardly any muscle at all. Looking very much like the nerdiest professor on Earth. Ben, the former football jock turned test pilot and wannabe astronaut, is the one who should be built like a brick house, even before the cosmic rays, not Reed. I wouldn’t mind buff Sue either — she was a jock in high school and on the swim team, and she has her own pool in the Baxter Building where she swims regularly. And she’s an expert martial artist, trained by Danny Rand himself. So she should have muscles. I just don’t really buy that Reed would, like…work out. Or care about his appearance at all. I don’t know if he even technically has muscles anymore, so working out wouldn’t help him at all anyway. I honestly just HATE IT when he’s really buff — I despise Eaglesham’s Reed (from Hickman’s run), who looks like he has Clark Kent’s body type, which…Reed should never look like that.

This is more like what I picture Reed looking like:

TALL AND SKINNY. YES, THANK YOU.

He CAN actually make his body look however he wants it to, though. So if he wanted to have giant rippling muscles, he technically could fake it. Personally, whenever I see him looking very buff, I imagine he’s doing this:

And Sue, Johnny, Ben, Val, and Franklin are all just giggling quietly to themselves because Reed just showed up to breakfast one morning with bulging muscles out of nowhere. And then they disappear just as abruptly after Sue has a talk with him.

I want to read the discworld series but have no idea which book to pick as my starting point. Which one would you suggest?

SURE I DO

okay so, premise: discworld works in series. you have some main cycles and then sparse novels/standalones. in order, you have:

the guard

death

witches (which is split into the classical line up and the tiffany aching YA stuff)

rincewind/wizards

industrial revolution

plus as standalones you have pyramids and small gods which are pre-current times and maurice and his amazing rodents which is another YA but doesn’t quite fit anywhere, and monstrous regimen is kind of a guard book but is more of a standalone - anyway I’d read it with the guard

personally, I’d advise to read small gods first because it’s a++++ and gives you a great introduction and it’s a parody of a lot of shit I love so you get an idea of the feel of the books and I wouldn’t read it chronologically esp because the first three books are the least interesting ones tbh (especially the third). what I’d do is going with cycles and single books in the following order:

read small gods;

then read the guard (guards! guards! + men at arms + feet of clay [TOP THREE MATERIAL] + jingo + the fifth elephant + night watch + monstrous regiment + thud!, then leave snuff be for the moment);

then move on to death (mort + reaper man + soul music [MY FAVORITE DISCWORLD BOOK YEEEY] + hogfather + thief of time);

then I’d move on to part of the industrial revolution (making movies + the truth + going postal + making money, leave raising steam be);

at this point you can do either rincewind or witches, it’s the same thing but since the last book in the series is tiffany aching which is a witches continuation I’d go for rincewind (the light fantastic/the color of magic [mind: they’re both fairly weaker than the rest of the series/of the rincewind stuff but you need both so just power through] + sourcery + eric + interesting times + the last continent (<33) + the last hero + unseen academicals);

at that point go back and do the old witches guard (equal rites [tbh it’s the worst in the series for me so if you wanna skip you can but a character shows up in TIFFANY ACHING so idk it’s short at least] + wyrd sisters + witches abroad + lords and ladies + maskerade + carpe jugulum)

now you’re ready for tiffany aching but maybe at this point you could throw in pyramids/amazing maurice if you feel like going for it - they’re a+ but you can read them whenever you want)

then you go with all of tiffany except for the last which is also the last discworld book (the wee free men + a hat full of sky + wintersmith + I shall wear midnight, do not read the shepherd’s crown yet);

at this point I’ve left you with the last three discworld books to go which concluded a lot of storylines left open, so you power up and you read, in order, snuff (last guard book), raising steam (last moist von lipwig/industrial revolution) and the finally the shepherd’s crown which is the very last one and you’re done. :) if you like, you can not read unseen academicals (which anyway has very little rincewind and more of the rest of the wizards) and keep it for last and read it before snuff so you have last wizards, last guards, last industrial rev. and last witches all together in the last rush ;)

that’s my personal favorite reading order and the one I found myself best with when I was going through with it but obviously you can switch things around, just start with death and the guards as the first two cycles you read and do small gods before all of them ;)

ETA: as someone else pointed out, you should probably read monstrous regiment after the truth and going postal so just put it there instead of the guards reading list xD

There’s so many stairs in Casa Madrigal

Hello!

Lately, this blog is mainly Encanto related, so if you get here looking for content about this beautiful movie, welcome! (previously, it was a Coco related blog, so I also have a lot of old content about it here)

Since I’ve been posting here my Encanto fics over these last weeks, and I’m still writing more, I wanted to make a pinned master list to put them all together. If you take a look at them, I hope you enjoy them, and thank you very much in advance for your time and comments and/or reblogs. They’re highly appreciated!

So welcome to the There’s so many stairs in Casa Madrigal collection!

It will always be the three of us When Pepa met Félix and she met Agustín, Julieta knew this would happen. They were in that age, after all. Everyone was making big decisions, choosing their paths. Everyone, except Bruno. Because, even if his look was always fixed in the future, he had never been fond of changes.

The life of her dreams Isabela was very different when she was twelve. She was louder, funnier, more energetic, more vocal, more ridiculous, a total jokester. She was braver, too. That’s why she didn’t hesitate when she asked Bruno for a vision. She really wanted to know if the life of her dreams would be hers someday. But she regretted it later, of course. Because her uncle’s vision taught her an important lesson: even good omens could turn into bad news.

And everyone always assumes the worst Three times in a row, Bruno was asked to look into his nieces’ future. The first one was Isabela, a perfectly good omen turned into an awful warning under his mother’s perfectionist look. The last one, the one that changed everything, was Mirabel, that fateful night full of fear and anxiety about a vanished door. But the one that hurt the most, the one that really made him reach his limit, was the second one. A request in the tiny voice of his dearest niece and a vision that made him wonder what was the point of having a miracle that felt like a curse.

In our darkest moment The triplets knew perfectly the story of the miracle’s origin. But even so, Bruno had wondered many times how would it be to live through something so extreme. Losing everything in a blink, turning around and discovering your life had radically changed forever in a matter of seconds. It was something that had given him nightmares when he was younger, and he had concluded he didn’t want to fully understand it. It was too much. The night Mirabel didn’t get her gift, however, he had no choice but to finally understand.

I’ll keep it updated as I post more! :D