#I will be making more but I can only build so many at a time

[teaboot]

I feel like if you're using a lot of disposable plastic bags in your day to day life, you've gotta do something sustainable to make up for it. Like using bamboo toilet paper or eco friendly cat litter or something, yknow

Honestly I exaggerate for comedic effect, while I DO routinely use ziplock bags to hold spaghetti I cook maybe once a month and the bag itself is usually for freezer storage. I actually throw out maybe one bag a week? I DO hate washing plates and tupperware and junk but that usually just means I eat sandwiches without a plate.

I agree though that needless waste should be avoided, and I do avoid it- biodegradable bags and recyclables, empty butter tubs used to store leftovers, etc.

This said, though, not applicable necessarily for myself but for a lot of others- I feel that it's importat to remember that there are many people who legitimately NEED things like plastic straws, or catheters, or pre-packaged foods

And the idea that that's a moral failing that individuals need to personally make up for when a single billionaire blows out more CO2 in a long weekend than I will in my whole life on a superjet meet-cute in the Bolivian rainforest between humvee drag races funded by the river-polluting textiles plants they planted in a third world country to avoid EPA laws and give an entire village stillbirths and stomach cancer is an idea that those very same bigwigs have spent a LOT of time and money investing in planting in the public psyche.

Like- Glass bottles are infinitely recyclable, so why are so many drinks in plastic now? Loads of drinks manufacturers used to buy them back and clean them for re-use, so why did they stop? If they chose to make something out of a limited and environmentally irresponsible material, why is it my failing to track down a correct process of disposal for them? What if there are none in my area? Do I lobby for more recycling plants in my area? Do I set aside some of my limited time outside the pain factory of my job- which I have more than one of, thanks to rising costs of things just like that drink I just emptied- to properly dispose of this company's waste FOR them?

Say coca-cola just rolled up to your town and started dumping millions of empty plastic bottles in the street, going, "wow, you should really think about building and staffing a recycling depot, it would be really shameful of you to just put these in the trash." When companies purposefully use materials with limited lifespans- because yes, even plastic can only be reused so many times- and tell you it's your own fault if it harms the environment- that's essentially what they're doing, just with more steps.

Yes, its important to be as environmentally concious as we can in our day to day life, but responsible sustainability is not catholicism. We don't get good boy points from our lord and savior Captain Planet every time the average low-income household gathers together to hold hands and repent for a single-use plastic that allows them to access something they need.

Entire families could eat trees and shit dead lithium batteries for years and still not do as much damage to the planet as an average dye plant or braindead celebrity does in a week just for fun, and I'm mad about it

...this went on longer than intended.

TL/DR: DO recycle and minimize waste, but don't beat yourself up over the little waste you can't avoid, and follow the money.

EDIT: Part 2

[b1asho]

While it's on the mind, here's my wings of fire designs too. Not as much of a brainrot but still fun. Bad take or am I cooking with some of them? Let me know in the comments. Here's some (too many) notes:

I really liked the original designs when I first read these books, but I wanted to try my hand at uhh changing them a little. Mainly making them more distinct from each other (even if this irreversibly breaks canon XD)

-Sandwings live in a mixed savannah and desert habitat and have bodies adapted for resource scarcity, effective hunting, and heat dispersion. They have large ears to help cool off and listen for stuff. They can fly, but pretty weakly in comparison to some others, mainly using flight to navigate their large territories , get onto cliffs, and scan for prey. They typically climb up somewhere and then jump off. They are built like felines, and use a solo stalk and rushdown hunting approach coupled with a sting instakill. They live in family groups, with a ‘queen’ title going to the alpha female 💪 and everyone else hunting and living together. They are immune to their own venom, which acts very similarly to a scorpion’s but in a massive dose, causing numbness, breathing difficulties seizures, and eventually death. It takes time for them to make more once they’ve expended the dose, so they rarely use it outside of hunting or life/death situations (though the prospect of being stung is very scary to everyone else, and they will instinctively raise their tail when startled or threatened)

-Skywings live in high mountainous and forested areas, with some living in the lowlands. They are powerful flyers and very acrobatic due to their tail, though this comes at the expense of their agility on land and the strength of their non wing arms. They have long legs with powerful talons for grasping prey midair or snatching them from off the ground. They hunt and live alone unless they have a partner. Communities are made up of a loose group of related individuals who rarely collect in one place at once(queendom structure are a more recent and ‘unnatural’ thing for them, but very useful for organizing military efforts and empire building). They stay aloft for long periods of time and usually only land on their cliff homes. They need a sprint or a takeoff point to get flying, though. Unlike every other tribe, they have a noticeable difference between male and female (being a nose horn and red face for males.) males are prized for these features, and having a pretty husband is seen as an attractive trait for a queen.

-Seawings live along the coast. They normally only venture out of the water for trade and other resources, since they can get everything else they need underwater. Their large neck houses gills protected by thick pads that will close when on land, while their lungs are in their mid chest. Primarily adapted to swimming, they have very strong tails and webbed fingers and toes. They will also use their wings to steer and paddle, as well as manipulate things their other arms can’t reach. They will hunt in packs, corralling fish and other animals into a kill zone. They are very clumsy on land and in the air with their short limbs and weak wings. Their bioluminescent spots can be flashed for communication, and compared to the other tribes they have pretty poor vocal ability (due to the gills in their neck getting in the way) and will supplement with other spot/sign signals. Every individual has unique spots, though their glowing ones come in consistent numbers, sizes, patterns, and places on their body so they can use them for common language across their group. However, Different groups from different parts of the ocean have different numbers of spots in different areas, making cross communication via only spots difficult. Their whiskers help navigate in close or dark areas, and are seen as a status symbol.

-Mudwings live in warmer areas, specifically marshes and other wetlands (though sometimes in some forested areas too). Their thick armor helps protect them from other mudwings/competition, while also acting as an insulator that allows them to easily venture a wider range than other tribes from warm climates. Physically, they are the strongest and bulkiest. They typically use the element of surprise and their overwhelming size and strength to take down large prey. However, unlike other tribes they tend to eat more plants too due to their large size (all of them are technically omnivores, but meat makes up the dominant part of their diet because of their energy needs and their ancestors). They are also the poorest flyers out of the bunch, having sacrificed that for size and strength, though they can do short bursts similar to a chicken to get to hard to reach areas or to surprise attack prey faster than them, they’re similar to hippos and are adapted to living in the water too, using powerful webbed arms to propel themselves and dig through the mud, and their large lung capacity to stay submerged and hidden for long periods. Their nostrils, ears, and eyes are located near the top of their head, which also gives more room for Tusks. They use these to root around occasionally defend themselves. Tusk maintenance and appearance is very important to them. They live in large groups of families in the same area and have more communal social standards than other tribes.

-Rainwings live in tropical areas and have a very small habitat range. This has caused them to look and act very different than most tribes, leading to poor perception of them. They use their long claws, strong grasping fingers, and prehensile tail to climb around, and are pretty much arboreal. They have wings meant for quick takeoffs and flight in dense areas, and are pretty agile and swift. They and aren’t that great at sustained flight or dealing with high altitudes and winds though . Their frill is delicate and used for emoting (probably originally for mating purposes) Their skin is packed with chromatophores that they can use to match their surroundings, and they have loose ridges in their skin that they can raise to enhance the effect. Their skin is constantly changing color due to their brain activity, though they have set patterns/colors for emotions and communication. They can also choose to focus on organizing their skin patterns to get coordinated colors and patterns, since normally it’s pretty disorganized. They eat a lot more plants due to their environment and due to social standards, but arent herbivores. They have the ability to spit acid out of hollow retractable fangs, and use precise shots of this coupled with their camouflage ability to get prey. They can also spray it at higher velocities for defense and offense, though this expends their supply much quicker. They don’t recognize a queen in their communities and are fairly disorganized into different cooperative groups.

-Nightwings are the result of a group that split off onto an island, though the volcanic activity on their original island escalated to the point where they had to emigrate. They are great fliers, using their wings and tail extensions to travel great distances to track prey and ambush from above. When on land, they aren’t particularly fast or strong, and instead are built for persistence. Their hunting tactic involves getting an initial bite onto prey, then waiting for it to succumb to infection. Their spines, horns, muscles, and talons are mainly for defending their kill from other Nightwings rather than hunting it in the first place. As a result of this competition, they aren’t naturally very social like other tribes, They are mainly nocturnal.

-Icewings live in the colder tundras and snowy forest environments. They are pack hunters, using their speed and persistence to take down prey, similar to wolves. Their long overlapping scales help them trap heat and survive in the cold, and while the guy i drew here is pretty skinny they also store fat much more readily than other tribes. Their bowed wings are mainly used to swoop in in prey, and like falcons they often take steep dives to grapple it. Their antlers only grow in at a certain time in the year, but royalty will wear embellished artificial ones in the meantime.

[kiemiu]

things matt does that makes you question your friendship | ( fem!reader ) fluff + soft hours. unestablished relationship headcanons wc 618 (library) + (request)

best friend!matt who's so attentive to your needs. he's always checking in on you, especially when you're out together. he'll rest his hand on your back before leaning towards your ear to whisper and ask how you're doing. during dinners with friends he'll look over at you and raise his eyebrows in question, waiting for your signal. if you're ever uncomfortable, he has no qualms about gathering all of his things and dragging you away from the chaos. your comfort is always above everything.

best friend!matt who adds love songs to your shared playlist. you both update your joint playlist pretty frequently, sometimes even sending the songs to each other beforehand. matt often will send a song with an attached message like 'this song reminds me of you' or 'i think you'll like this, just added it to our playlist'. you didn't notice it at first but once you started looking at the lyrics of the songs, they always mentioned love, infatuation, unrequited love, and more romantic topics.

best friend!matt who created a nickname for you that only he can use. he gets incredibly upset when someone uses the nickname he gave you, and even more upset if you let them. he made it up and reserved it specifically for you while making it known that you're the only person who has that privilege over him. he'll be giddy if you create your own special nickname for him, and will ignore anyone who addresses him by it if it's not you.

best friend!matt who doesn't correct people when they think you're dating. it's happened plenty of times, the way the two of you cuddle up to each other in public and have animated conversation that only the both of you can hear, anyone with eyes would think the two of you were dating. and whenever someone assumes, before you can interject to deny their claims, matt quickly throws out a 'thank you' with a smile before pulling you away and avoiding your question of why you didn't correct them.

best friend!matt who unknowingly seeks out your approval. after he makes a joke you're the first person he looks at, just waiting to see your smile and hear the familiar sound of your laughter. it always gave him a sense of pride when you paid attention and recognized him, even if it was for something as small as laughing at his crappy jokes.

best friend!matt who takes candid photos of you. it's always when you least expect it, building a lego set in the tranquility of his bedroom and you'll randomly see a flash out of the corner of your eye. at first you used to poke at him about it and beg for him to delete it, but it happens so often now that you can only grow a flustered smile, wondering just why he takes so many pictures of you. not realizing he has a photo album dedicated to just you with a matching wallpaper to prove it.

best friend!matt who can't get you of his head. he's surrounded by you, your face on his homescreen, the last hoodie of his you wore resting on the back of his chair, your hair ties on his nightstand, while one of your favorite childhood tv shows play in the background..he sees you in everything he does and everywhere he goes, and he makes it known. always sending you a small update text when he's thinking about you and sometimes a picture of what exactly reminded him of you. 'watching your show, made me think of u :) ❤️'

best friend!matt who is so utterly obsessed and in love with his best friend.

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @madifilipowiczslvt @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash @sturnina @lovetaylorrussellgrr @nervoussagittarius @sacaydia @chrissturnsss @hearts4werka @chrisprincesss @koilaniazul @chrispleasure

[catboybiologist]

Yay I'm going to get all Political and angry again.

So pretty much every trans American is probably aware of the Sarah McBride situation at this point, but here's the bullet point summary if needed for anyone else:

Sarah McBride gets elected to the House as the first transgender member of Congress in US history.

Republicans predictably flip their shit. They pass internal rules of conduct that prohibit trans people from using bathrooms of their gender and stating that bathroom use is defined by AGAB. It obviously singles out McBride, but I believe there are trans staffers that are also affected.

McBride issues a statement that she will abide by these rules, and pretty much only use the bathroom directly associated with her physical office. She issues a statement saying she "wasn't elected for bathrooms" and will instead fight in issues that matter, with a milquetoast criticism of Republicans for wasting time on this.

Many trans Americans are predictably scared and disappointed by this, especially because this internal house rule is being used as a blueprint for more extensive laws, including a likely ban on trans people in gendered bathrooms in all federal land and buildings (including, notably for me, national parks. Which breaks my heart, but that's a different rant.)

There's been a lot of disappointment and criticism of McBride over this. The general leftist reaction has been criticism. There's lots of people that have expressed disappointment or rage, including Erin Reed, and also more "personality" type people like Vaush and Jessie Gender.

Now.

I'm disappointed too.

But. And please keep reading before chewing me out for being an apologist.

I think we can all understand that McBride is in an impossible situation. If she fights this too hard, then it vindicates the Republican rhetoric that Dems are crazy trans obsessed leftists. But there's a fear that this will only lead to more infringements of rights for trans people. McBride is completely stuck, and is a junior, freshly elected member of Congress who is trying to figure out how to make her voice the most effective.

I am so, so fucking tired of rights being ceded one by one. So I'm disappointed. But yeah, I understand McBride's statement.

But there's just one tiny. Eeny weeny. Minor. Itty Bitty question having over all of this. Just one little concern.

Where.

The fuck.

Are the rest of the Democrats?!?!?!?

There is a PAINFULLY fucking easy solution to all of this. McBride needs backing, solidarity, and other people to speak for her. If she's worried about her voice being effective, and being branded as the crazy trans representative, then step the fucking up, you spineless liberal slimebags.

AOC is the only one that I know of that has expressed any real opposition or anger. Her statements are getting aaallll the airtime.

But the real story is McBride's sentiment being echoed amongst the entire party. This is absolutely some kind of official platform. The fucking grumbling, milquetoast finger waving and "well I don't like this, but there's nothing to be done! Anyways"

Of fucking course minorites are abandoning the left. The message they're sending is "we'll abandon you with the most pathetic of excuses. We don't give a shit." Trimming groups out of their support one by one.

McBride is doing the impossible calculus of trying to be the most effective on the house floor. It's an insane task for a trans woman. And yeah, she got it wrong this time. But where the fuck is the anger for her cis colleagues? Why the fuck aren't people angry and terrified for everyone that let this shit happen?

As much as people love the narrative of the line wolf resistor, resistance takes coordination, effort, and solidarity. Without that, what would McBride raising opposition even be? One representative against the hundreds of others.

And yeah, of course I didn't expect any better from the Democratic party. But you should be disappointed and mad at your representative, not just McBride.

[glypt0don]

So, this is quite a rant. You can skip to the bottom, if you want to know my opinion but don't want to read that much... But I worked hard on it and I think it's important, so it would make me very happy if you read through the whole text.

So this fits into something I wanted to post about anyway: a broader theme of why do we frame things as wars? Like, why is it culture war, specifically. First I liked the concept, I thought it described something quite complicated reasonably easily. But I pondered on it a bit more and I think there's more going on.

It's pretty trivial, that most societies went through a huge change over the last half century. It's not just feminism. I could make a whole list of things we as a people took on. Anti-racism and civil rights, religious acceptance, global trade, reinterpreting the meaning of peace, connecting the word through the world-wide web, etc. We ( or, as I am barely an adult and have no idea how to change things for the better, I should say you, or maybe chat) decided it was time for change, so change came. You brought it about.

And I agree. Change WAS and IS necessary. What that change should entail, well, we all have our ideas, right? And they have the ugly tendency to differ from each other. The question then is, how do we coincide our contradictory ideas on society? The answer is both worrying and very important.

To be fair, our race doesn't have a great track record on solving these kinds of issues. I dug into my historical knowledge, since, you know, those who don't learn from it, repeat it... The only thing I can compare to what's happening today would be the Reformation (which probably says a lot about my historical knowledge). That's the only time I know, where societal assumptions were altered so much in such a short time. That time it was specifically about the Catholic church (if you don't know, what I'm talking about, you really should, so Google it), and the result was a series of wars, that ultimately may have wiped out about a fifth of Europes population. The wars were of course led by powerful men, who capitalised on the divide to further their own goals.

As back then, now too, we can't rely on institutions to tame the public. Many media and political identities have a direct interest in polarising society. Because that's what happens. All these contentious issues about gender, class, or foreign policy become dividing lines between folks who are supposed to be parts of the same whole (call it community, state, nation or humanity, depending on how wide you can think). You know, how it works, probably saw it a few times, whatever your interests are. It's literally everywhere! We fight it out with the perceived enemy of the week sometimes, when there is an election, something notable happens, or it's simply Pride Month. Then everyone goes back to their respective corners, where they vehemently agree with themselves. We don't talk a lot, just throw words at each other, like Buggs Bunny, playing tennis with a dynamite.

I should say, this post is a notable and refreshing outlier. Thanks, @trans-androgyne , for starting a discussion for a change!

I know, it's a bit like nuclear armament. You can't just stop, because THEY won't, and then they win, and you can't allow that. It's life and death! And I don't have some magic pill to make it all go right, or believe me, I wouldn't sit here, typing this out at 3 in the morning Central European Time. But let me propose this: don't call it a war! Neither culture war, nor gender war, nor anything like that. Because this isn't a war. Just ask anyone in the middle east! They can tell you, what is war, and THIS IS NOT IT! And also, because it may not be guns and destruction yet, but nothing guarantees, that it stays that way. We already had multiple attempted takeovers of capital buildings since this cursed decade began, because our social reality became so fragmented, that you can't accept the results of a popular election anymore. That should raise alarm bells. I know it does, but it can be much worse! Learn from history, do not repeat it! Hit the Wiki page on the Huguenot war! On the siege of Magdeburg. Or, if that's not your cup of tea, watch Civil War! I genuinely think it's the best movie of the year.

Call it Social Discourse! That sounds much more manageable, doesn't it? Or you can come up with something else, as long as it isn't some warmongering bullshit. And maybe the next time you meet someone with sexist, homophobic, racist, or maybe radical left and anarchistic views (whatever you're opposing), don't attack them with your words! Those aren't weapons. Try to talk to them instead! Try talking about feelings! Listen to theirs, make them understand yours! I say feelings, because you both have those. Try finding a common ground, however small, and build up from there. Like Minecraft Skyblock. It can be hard in a challenging way, instead of making you want to shoot yourself in the head. Remember, you aren't fighting a war. You are having a discourse.

All of it is to say, the world and society are changing, wether you like it or not, and we have to change with it, to survive. That is the simple fact. If you call that change a war, that's just gonna make the whole thing unnecessarily painful for everyone involved.

This was sociopolitical advice from a giant armadillo.

Genuinely, what happened to “feminism is for everyone”?

That’s the feminism I grew up with: encouraging people to recognize that fighting sexism and restrictive gender roles helps folks of every gender. We’d push back on the idea that feminists hate men, pointing to inclusive feminist literature and how many men are feminists.

Now, there are so many people insisting that the solution to patriarchy is to openly hate and ostracize men no matter what. Why? What is the benefit? It’s certainly not effective in fighting oppressive structures to exclude half the population from your cause on the basis of immutable traits. It may feel cathartic to say horrible things about men and try to punish them for your frustrations with patriarchy. But the only actual effect I see is the increasing right-wing radicalization of young men, who are being told that the left hates them for the way they were born and presented with an abundance of proof that it’s true.

Why are we going back to treating men and women as different species? It doesn’t fix things to say “well women are the good gender and men are the bad one” this time. If you sincerely want to dismantle sexism, you’re going to have to unpack and let go of all sex and gender essentialism—even that which considers women inherently pure and men inherently immoral.

[castiwls]

my number one .ᐟ

Paring; art x reader

Synopsis; You'd always been your own worst enemy. Your anxiety liked to jump out at the worst times yet your ever-doting boyfriend was determined to be there every. single. time.

Even if that meant missing his match.

Requested; anon

Notes; tysm for the request <3 i kinda based this on my own anxiety and the methods I've been taught over the years

Masterlist

“I don’t wanna be annoying.”

“You're not being annoying.”

No matter how many times he says it, you never believe it. How could you not be annoying, especially when you’ve woken him up at 3 a.m. for what must be the third time this week?

Art sighed, pulling you closer to his chest. His hands rubbed over your back in soothing circles as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Just follow my breathing, okay?” It was a saying so common that it seemed to fall from his lips without a thought. It was almost like a lifeline of sorts knowing that no matter what you’d always have the steady beat of his heart only a phone call away whenever your own decided to forget how to beat on time and needed reminding.

It was equally a blessing and a curse. A blessing to have someone like Art who would drop everything to come at your beacon call but a curse that you needed him in that way. 

Even now when he should be preparing for another tournament - against which school you can’t remember but then again your only thought right now is being able to focus enough to breathe - he’s here with you tucked around a corner from your class as you try to calm your breathing.

The moment he’d gotten your text.

Please come

Need you

He’d left the court without a second thought and made it to the building in record time. “You’re okay.” He soothed running a thumb over your cheek as he held your gaze. “You’re okay just breathe. In and out.” 

He hated seeing you like this. No matter how many times it happened he’d never shake that feeling of nausea that would swim in his stomach whenever your breath seemed to catch and your eyes grew distant. It made him want to just wrap you in his arms and protect you from anything and everything that left you feeling even slightly anxious.

You were his entire world and it hurt him to know you were your own worst enemy. 

“C’mon.” His hand intertwined with yours as he grabbed your bag. You both walked quietly back to his dorm your heart rate slowly going back to normal as you both walked. 

“Don’t you have practice?” You frowned as he placed your bag on his bed turning to watch as you shut the door. “It’s fine.” He smiled trying to reassure you as he opened his arms. “I can practice later you’re more important right now okay.” He sighed pulling you against his chest.

The practice could wait right now all he cared about was you. 

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

Not now, please god not now.

Art had already been so busy the last few days that you’d purposefully tried to leave him alone. He needed to train and you didn’t want to get in the way and worry him more then he already was. 

He’d only left his dorm an hour ago to get ready for the match and you’d been fine. Better then fine actually you’d had a great morning and for a moment you’d thought that maybe you’d go three full days without your anxiety rearing its ugly head.

And then it proved you wrong.

“Art I’m fine.” You could hear his concern down the phone as you sat on his bed, mentally counting your breaths to try and keep some semblance of calm. “You sure? I can come back for a-”

“No. No stay there and just relax okay? I’ll come find you before it starts.” You could almost picture the concern in his eyes as he sighed before relenting. If you said you were fine you were fine, pushing you would only make it worse.

“Okay but call me if you need okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled slightly tracing shapes over his covers as you ended the call. The room was starting to feel too small as you sat, the air almost stuffy. Nothing had even happened and yet you could already feel the anxiety building.

The pit in your stomach swirled as your hands grew clammy no matter how many times you wiped them on your jeans.

You were fine.

You had to be fine. 

Taking a breath you stood pacing the small space as you tried to halt the attack. Breathe in for 10 out for 10.

In for 10 out for 10.

“Fuck.” Your voice shook slightly as tears began to prick at your eyes, your chest heaving as you tried to pull in a breath that wasn’t there. 

Your eyes darted around the room as you looked for anything to help but came up empty. You couldn’t call him. You knew the minute you did he’d drop everything and you didn’t want that.

No matter how bad this was - and it was bad by your standards - his match was more important.

Wiping the tears you sat back down closing your eyes as you tried to talk yourself through it.

You were fine.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

The breath he’d been holding since you’d spoken on the phone a few hours ago seemed to finally release as he spotted you in the crowd. His eyes lit up and a bright smile pulled at his lips as he made his way through the crowd towards where you stood, your own eyes lighting up when you noticed him.

“Hey.” He grinned pulling you in for a chaste kiss. “You came.”

“Of course I did.” You laughed but it was strained. Your smile slightly too tight as you fixed the cap over his curls. “You ready?” You asked pulling back ever so slightly. 

“You're shaking.” 

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are I can see your hands.” Art sighed his smile pulling into a frown as he took your hand in his. “Your freezing as well.” 

Your face was still pulled into a tight smile but he saw right through it. The slight draw in your brow and the redness around your eyes gave you away almost immediately. Before you could say anything else he was pulling you through the crowd and behind the bleachers.

You swallowed back the tears which burned at your eyes. It had taken the whole two hours since the phone call for you to calm down even an inch and even now you still felt sluggish in your own body. 

“Art m’fine.” Your voice shook as you closed your eyes. 

“No your not.” He shook his head pushing a strand of hair from your face. “Why didn’t you call me?” You always called! It was bad enough knowing you’d walked from the dorms to the court like this but knowing you’d very possibly been like this since he’d last called you?

His own heart was racing at the thought.

“I didn’t wanna distract you.” His hand was now rubbing over your shoulder as you wiped at your eyes. “I know how much this means to you-”

“The match doesn’t matter.” He shook his head gently, tilting your chin up. Part of you already felt better just being near him, his presence a comfort in itself.

“Nothing matters more than you.” He smiled his eyes filled with warmth as his thumb flicked away a tear. “I’m not playing until I know you're okay. I can’t play knowing you're feeling like this.”

He pulled you closer rubbing a hand over your back. The match would never be more important than you - hell tennis would always come second to you. The fact the thought even crossed your mind was enough to have him debating putting the racket down and pulling you back to his dorm.

“Promise me you're still gonna play.” You whispered tucking your face into the crook of his neck as you breathed in the gentle scent of his aftershave for a moment. Your lungs seemed to work again as you pressed closer, sinking into his body.

“We’re not talking about tennis.” He murmured balancing his chin on your head. “You're all that matters.”

He meant his words, every single one of them. Sure he would play in the tournament but only once he knew you were okay, until then it was the last thing on his mind.

Tennis could never hold a torch to his love for you.

[thememestrider]

40k Sfw Alphabet - Vulkan

I'm pretty new to 40k tumblr, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm yet to see many sfw/nsfw alphabets for our men, and I don't think I've seen any for the primarchs. As a big fan of the alphabets, I thought I'd do some; for my own enjoyment more than anything, but I'm hoping some of you guys will enjoy them too :)

I'm kicking off the biggest, strongest and most huggable of the primarchs: Vulkan.

Apologies for typos and ooc/lore inaccuracies

Please enjoy

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I think it goes without saying that Vulkan would be a very affectionate partner. He wears his heart on his sleeve and unlike many of his brothers, he's not one to hide or suppress his emotions. If he loves someone, he will want them to know it and he will want everyone else around to know it. Everyday. All the time. Without missing a beat.

Vulkan would show his affection visibly through physical touch, gestures and by saying it outright. Everyday, he will say "I love you". Every chance he gets, he's going to have a hand on you, be it touching your thigh when you're both seated at a meeting or resting his hand on your lower back while walking the halls of his flagship.

B - Best friend (What are they like as a friend? How would the friendship start?)

Vulkan is be the ultimate emotional-support bestie. This isn't even a head cannon: this is lore-accurate fact. When he reunited with Rogal Dorn, he gave him a hug. Before the Heresy, he believed in trying to redeem Konrad Curze. He is the most empathetic and emotionally intelligent of the primarchs, and all everybody knows it. As a friend, he'd be damn-near perfect.

As for how your friendship would start, I think it'd be pretty easy/straightforward. Right from the start, you'd feel how good the vibes around this man were and he'd feel the same way. You two would just click right away. It'd start with a simple conversation- maybe you bumped into each other at some political event, or maybe you met on the training grounds and wound up sparring or training together. From there, your friendship would only grow, and it would last for the rest of your lives.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Is it just me or does it feel like a lot of these are almost self explanatory? OF COURSE Vulkan likes to cuddle. When you are in his arms, he knows you are safe. He knows you feel loved. And, as I very much see his love language being physical touch, cuddles make HIM feel loved.

He has no preference as to how you two cuddle- just whatever you prefer. He does like it when you lay atop his chest, where he can lay his arms across your back, hold you like a comforter, and keep you both warm.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

At his core, Vulkan is a protector. A builder. So having a place where he can feel secure and be at peace isn't just something he would want; it's something he needs. And when you become a part of his life, this need would only grow deeper.

Since Vulkan is a black-smith, and therefore already apt at building and using his hands (wink) I can see him being a skilled cook. He'd love cooking for you, too- it's another way he can show how much he loves you.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Of all the primarchs, Vulkan would be the best to have a break up with. As mentioned earlier, he is extremely empathetic and he has very good emotional intelligence. If he were to break up with you, it'd be with an in-person conversation where he explains how he feels and let's you down very, very gently. If you were to break up with him, he would understand, and try to ensure that you both part on good terms. However, behind closed doors, he'd be heart broken and he would grieve the loss of your relationship deeply and agonisingly.

F - Fiancé (How to they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

Commitment goes hand-in-hand with loyalty, and Vulkan is one of the most loyal men out there. As soon as he knows he loves you, he's going to want to keep you. He wants you to be his, and he wants to be yours.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally?)

Do I really need to answer this?

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

Again- do I really need to answer this?

I - I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I could see him saying it pretty quickly, what with how quickly and stronglyI see you both bonding emotionally. With how intune he is with his feelings, I think he'd recognise fairly quickly that what he feels for you is love and that you need to know it- if not to be in a relationship with you, then at least to give you a heads up in case you didn't feel the same way.

J - Jealous (How jealous do they get? What are they like when they're jealous?)

Vulkan is loyal. He trusts you as much as he hopes you trusts him. As such, he doesn't get jealous- he doesn't feel he has any reason to be.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Long, deep and absolutely brimming with love. Gentle, too. Even in more passionate moments, he'd never hurt you, not even by accident. He likes to kiss you on the lips, mainly, as he considers that to be the most emotionally intimate. That said, he does enjoy it when, while laying on top of him, you kiss him down his neck and along his collarbones.

L - Little Ones (How are they around children?)

Vulkan is maybe the only primarch who is 100% perfect with children. He's just the sweetest man there ever was. I think he'd like the idea of having children, too, but only if it was what you wanted. If you didn't want kids, he wouldn't push the issue.

M - Mornings (How are morning spent with them?)

Slow and sleepy. Neither of you would want to get up. Vulkan, in particular, would simply love to spend the entire day holding you, dozing off to the feeling of your body pressed against his.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

He's definitely falling asleep with his arms around you. Either spooning you from behind or holding you across his chest like a blanket.

O - Openess (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they reveal things slowly over time or all at once?)

As soon as it's clear how much you two click, Vulkan will begin to open up to you. Slowly at first so as not to overwhelm you, and from there, at about the same rate you feel comfortable opening up with him. I think he'd really dislike it if you kept things from him, too. Your happiness is his number one concern, and the idea that you didn't feel comfortable or safe telling him something would distress him very much.

P - Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Already, Vulkan has the patience of a saint. But with you? It's damn-near infinite. It might be thinner if he's stressed or worn down, but if he snaps at you or says something a little too sharp, he will realise immediately and apologise right away.

Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail or do they forget the minor things?)

You're the most important thing in this man's life, of course he's going to remember everything about you. Moreover, he's going to use that knowledge for the gifts he crafts for you in his forge. Did you once mention off-handed that daisies were your favourite flower? Don't be surprised if the next day, you find a box with a daisy pendant left for you on your duchess. You mention how much you'd love a pet to keep you company while he's away crusading? Vulkan's going to get you a kitten or a puppy the next day- and he'll know which to get you, because he'll remember whether you're a cat person or a dog person.

R - Remember (What's their favourite memory of the relationship?)

I thought long and hard about this for a while, but honestly I struggled to come up with a specific example. Maybe you guys tell me in the comments or the reblogs what you think it might be, based on how you'd imagine your relationship with Vulkan.

S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Because you're a human, Vulkan would be very physically protective of you. He would want you living as far from any war as was possible, and even then, wherever you would end up living would be heavily defended by his legion. I could see him keeping you on Nocturne or Prometheus, as they are his and his sons' homeworlds, but both those places are very hostile in of themselves (Im pretty sure Nocturne is even considered a Death World), so maybe he'd set you up on a peaceful pleasure world or something of the like; overseen by a regiment of Salamanders, of course.

Vulkan is not only the largest primarch, but he's one of the most capable in combat. He's also a perpetual, and therefore functionally immortal. For these reasons, he doesn't need much physical protection- at least none of the kind you might be able to offer. But on the other hand, Vulkan absolutely needs something to guard his heart. He is a deeply emotional man and is very sensitive to grief and the suffering of others. When he looses his sons in combat or fails to save innocents from death, he will need your comfort. He'll need you to hold him tight, maybe even offer your shoulder for him to cry on. He'll need your assurance and your unconditional love. Of course, all of these things you're more than happy to give. As much as he needs and more.

T - Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts and everyday tasks?)

Vulkan would love nothing more than to go all out with all of these things a the time, but the demands of war and his duties as a primarch make it difficult to consistently. When he has the time, he will absolutely spoil you.

Regardless of how busy he is, you would always be receiving many, many gifts- jewellery, ornaments and cute, personalised knick-knacks that hand crafted by Vulkan in his forge.

U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

If you're not careful, his protectiveness over you could start to feel overwhelming, especially during the events of the Heresy. Additionally, his desire to tend to your every emotional need may lead to you feeling smothered. But the moment you tell him how you're feeling, Vulkan would listen. He might slip back into those habits every now and then, but again, with time and good communication, he would eventually change for the better. Doesn't mean he'll stop protecting you, though- it just means he'll be less overt about it.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Vulkan is about the humblest man you could ever meet- vanity isn't a word in his vocabulary.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Without question.

X - Xtra (A random head cannon for them)

The Salamanders would revere you just as much as they do their father. They'd see you as their parent, and they'd hope that you would see them as your sons. Being assigned to your personal guard would be among their greatest honours, and you would come to know every marine on your guard personally. When it was their turn to return to Nocturne to see their families, you might even come along, for if the Salamanders are your sons, their families are your families as well.

Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like in a partner, or in general?)

Arrogance, a lack of empathy, selfishness and anything synonymous with those three things.

Z - Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)

Despite appearances, I can see Vulkan struggling with insomnia and even nightmares, purely because he's such a sensitive man thrust into the most brutal and horrific wars. The insomnia would ease the moment he had you to hold at night, but his nightmares would take longer to fade. If he wakes up in a state, gasping for air and drenched in sweat, he will need you to comfort him- to listen as he talks through what he saw. To cradle his head or hold him him around the waist as he drifts back to sleep. This will become even more frequent following his torture at the hands of Curze.

[jesteriajunovix]

(Spoilers) Just a Reminder to Curly Sympathizers

Jimmy and Curly are not "Problematic Favs". They're literally thematic vessels for THE problem.

CW: Mentions of SA, and Abuse

Curly (And Pony Express as a Company) Never Cared to give Anya Pysche Evals. Curly only started to care for that when it doubled as an occupational hazard to him and his image.

Curly actively vouches for Jimmy as a crew member despite his "struggle" on earth. I don't see how it'd be far-fetched to assume that involves some form of Misconduct with the fact Curly literally says

"You've gotten through difficult situations before" RIGHT AFTER talking to Anya the actual Victim.

Curly doesn't understand why Anya was talking about the locks on the sleeping quarters and moves past it to reinforce the company's logic. [The Company and Curly can not be bothered to consider or provide actual safety for women. It is an afterthought that resembles a cruel apathy towards women's perspectives in a corporate work environment.]

Would Curly have given the gun to Anya if she asked? Probably not. While that is somewhat debatable It rings to the shitty isolated environment where Anya would have to take up such a mindset. Not to mention Curly is clearly super pals with Jimmy, so if that was a concern he'd probably take Jimmy's (and the rest of the guys) side considering he later took jimmy's side under the fact he sexually assaulted a woman.

The first thing Curly says to Jimmy after trying to consolidate Anya is "I Can Fix This". Curly enables Jimmy to find ways to get out of taking responsibility for the harm he did to Anya.

Curly buckles to the fact his mind is more focused on his position and reputation as a Captain rather than the personal impact Jimmy's harm has caused Anya. This issue is an occupational obstacle to him first and foremost.

Jimmy: "This can be remembered as a tragedy".

Jimmy: "The Tuplar crew was never found."

Jimmy: "You're standing at the top. Feet in cement. Right?"

Curly: "...Right."

And his complacency and dissonance of that truth leads him to do absolutely nothing.

I have seen so much art, and discourse treating him like he wasn't an active enabler. You know what. Fuck it. Half of this is going to double as an Anya Post. thinking about how people disgustingly twist her character to redeem two shitty men who are completely at fault irks me so much.

Anya

The fact that Anya doesn't really get to build herself as a character outside of the scenes that reinforce her tragedy, and antagonist environment feels super sucky.

The purpose of such a narrative direction is of course meant to feed into Jimmy's resentful apathetic attitude towards her, and emphasize the cold unfeeling corporate entity that hired her to be on the tulpar, but as a narrative choice, it still feels rather cruel to take in. Jimmy literally erases her personhood from his mind and only internalizes her presence as a threatening womb while taking the rest of the games runtime to focus on himself and the other men on board.

I see many renditions of Anya in fanart. Adding to her character in ways people weren't really given the time to appreciate or take in during the actual game due to how little she's left with.

I find her canon resolution both annoying and interesting due to this type of interaction where the fans are being pushed towards an interpretive play pen where they are motivated to give Anya more characteristics, quirks, and perspectives than she was allowed to have or emphasize within the game.

Using such field of creative deliberation to redeem the men that actively harmed her is such a gross way to use that play pen.

To get into some interpretations

A pretty important moment occurs after Anya runs out of the medical room during the painkiller scene with the thought:

"I have to believe that our worst moments don't make us monsters"

I think there are quite a few different ways to take this line in this moment, but to share my own perspective I believe it most likely stems from these potential factors:

Anya is trying to maintain a metric of empathy and trust to continue to control herself in the current conditions and stresses she's under at this moment. The needs of the crew can not be upheld without this kind of thinking while under the orders of her abuser.

Anya still cares for Curly and is disconnecting the harm he caused from the rest of his humanity as a person who is also suffering.

Anya is reflecting on her own legitimacy while the internalized trauma she went through makes her feel alienated from herself. Accepting the actual piece of shit that is Curly allows her to hold faith in herself as a person through the shared correlation of pain and "mistakes" as she percieves it bonding her with Curly.

While somewhat ambigous I think its important to generally understand these types of potential layers when interacting with the themes and subjects presented by Anya as a character. Ideas which are critical and dissective of Anya as an actual Subject above a simple generalized understanding of her peripherally as a victim.

also Idea 2 doesn't make Curly vindicated. Curly was the only member that Gave Anya some sense of care (As ingenuine as that care was). That dependency is toxic and was unfortuately potentially of mental necessity to Her. To reframe it as a point for Curly to show he was better than what he presented himself to be so deeply annoys me with how uncritical that reframing is when addressing the actual faults and mentality that led him to his bedridden state. With how little Anya is already focused on, it feels like that interpretation and dynamic hands Curly the position of "Subject" while Anya still remains an "Event" to some people.

That kind of thinking not only significantly reeks of a lack of indulgence in actually trying to further interpret the facets presented in Anya's character, position, and mental state, but also dilutes the meaning to be had in analyzing Curly as an enabler. The framing of Curly as an "Enabler in Rehab" or "Tragic Casualty" feels so utterly ignorant, redundant, and enigmatic to my senses when he is so utterly undeserving compared to Anya who barely gets any other elaboration or analysis from the community outside of "awww wasn't that sad" or sensationalization around "The Event".

I WOULD go into Anya's logic leading up to her death, but thats a post and analysis for a different tumblr user to take care of. I honestly just gradually have developed new ways to hate the Mouthwashing fandom, so I really needed this to make mental space for the next few horrible bizarre takes i'll inevitably see about this game.

[something-wild-calls]

Modded by @loupy-mongoose.

Jamie Wild was a character originally created as a trainersona more than a decade ago, who gradually evolved into a character all her own and ended up the protagonist of a yet-unpublished Soul Silver Nuzlocke called Shadowed Soul. In recent years, after these many years of building her character and the Pokemon world around her, I've been wanting to make her completely my own, world and all.

Someday I still hope to tell her Nuzlocke story and keep up with her in the Linden Roots world, but here I will be giving an alternate version of that story--Some elements will remain the same or minimally changed, while some changes will be drastic. So both stories will hold their own merit, when comes time to tell them both. :>

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Asks Notice:

I'm having the inbox open only so that people can ask about specific curiosities, and allow for prompt inspiration. This is not an interaction or Role Play blog! I won't say it's impossible, but any asks worded as such will likely not be answered as such, and may not be answered at all. That being said, I do reserve the right to answer as I see fit. XD

For now I will leave anonymous available, but I will turn it off if anyone chooses to act in ill-will or with weird intentions.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Some notes about this story:

-The setting is the same world as my other story The Matters of Life and Death. So some things, such as staffwyrms and the way magic works, is the same between stories.

-I currently plan to tell it in a slice-of-life manner, probably through mixed means of comic, artworks, answered asks, and potentially writings.

-My aim with this blog and story is to have fun above all else! It's something I feel I shouldn't have to say, but at the same time I also feel I've lost touch with that particular motive. So I'm hoping to remind myself that my art and stories are mine, and are for my entertainment first and foremost.

For those interested in this old tale being made new, welcome! I hope you enjoy the journey! ^w^

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Content warnings under the Read More (To save space.)

WARNINGS LIST FOR THIS BLOG (Subject to updates)

DEATH INJURY/BLOOD VIOLENCE SPIRITUAL/SOUL DISCUSSION. (Not really in a Christian sense, but I'll try to tag it as such if it gets too close.) CHILD ABUSE CHILD NEGLECT CHILD INJURY/ENDANGERMENT CHILD ABANDONMENT

Related Tags to mute if desired:

#TW: Death -- #TW: Injury -- #TW: implied injury -- #TW: Blood -- #TW: Violence -- #TW: Christianity (If it comes up, but I don't expect it to.) -- #TW: Child Abuse -- #TW: Child Neglect -- #TW: Child injury -- #TW: Child Endangerment -- #TW: Child Abandonment

[theheartcollecter]

Chapter 1: Revival

Fem Ghoul reader x Monster 141

Warnings for this chapter: torture, blood, cannibalism (lemme know if I missed any.)

You were turned into a ghoul about 2 months ago. Battling with urges to carnivore humans and fight rival ghouls. Your life had changed drastically since then, no more university or jobs, hell, you can’t even talk to friends or family the same.

You don’t remember how exactly you got here, in a secluded room. The walls and floors bare exactly for a single chair and the pool of blood forming around it. You eyes can barely stay open, when they do you star at the only light source in this huge room. The white light shows your life before, the people you met and human foods you ate.

Many people don’t know when exact the influx of ghouls started to appear in England, they just remember the stories. Mother and kids found dead after father cannibalizes them. Except they didn’t know it wasn’t cannibalism at the time, no, something much worse, a new form of monster. Ghouls in England began running rogue, eating anyone they pleased, and turning whoever the thought fit.

That’s how you ended up here. Wrists and feet tied to a chair, restraints beyond tight. You stopped making sounds of agony a while ago, the pain now numbing. Squelch! Another toe being cut off, forcing your body to replace it. Since you’re a fairly new ghoul, your body hasn’t gotten a hold of the whole immortal thing. Your new ghoul body takes longer than most to heal itself, which only makes it more agonizing.

You can hear a man laughing, or ghoul laughing, the one who brought you here. You forgot his name; useless information now. But you’ll never forget what he did or is doing to you. He’s cut all of your toes off by now, all forced to regrow. By the 15th one you stopped feeling it, which he was clearly amused by.

You feel something touch your hair lightly, “It’s white,” the man says, English accent cutting through your head. You open your eyes, cold sweat running down your face. “Your hair has turned white.” You glance down and, yes, he’s right. Your hair has indeed turned white, another thing added along with your freakish new powers.

You can’t find the words to complain so you just stare into his eyes, revenge now corrupting your mind. His eyes, a pale yellow, hair blonde, and brown suit. Must be 6ft or taller, typical muscular build, maybe late 40s.

You don’t know if you’ll survive this, not sure how long it will take, how many more things he can cut until your body stops regrowing them.

It’s like god hearing your prayers, a guardian angel coming to save you as you hear someone kick at the door. It only takes a few kicks to get it to collapse onto the floor. The male ghoul in front of you is blocking your view, you can’t see who’s come to, hopefully, save you.

“Hmm, who are you?” The male ghoul says, amusement lacing his voice. You try to say something, anything, you open your mouth but no sound comes out.

“Task Force 141, remember the name.” An English man says, before you see them, rushing towards the ghoul. Four men, two with, is that wings? A wolf hybrid, and a giant with a mask on. They all wear protective gear, guns and knives, and the wolf is wearing a …choker?

The ghoul tenses, amusement gone. He steps back before his kagune, a ghouls predatory organ that functions as their weapon, comes out. You think he’s about to fight them before he rushes towards the side of the building, crashing through the wall into the night.

You turn back to your saviors, getting a good look at them, but not for long. The loss of blood must’ve got to you, your eyes slowly close and before you know it you’ve passed out. The last thing you feel is being untied and picked up into big, warm, arms.

A/n: AHHH, this is my first time ever writing something like this, so don’t bash me too hard.🙈 I wrote this with the anime Tokyo Ghoul in mind, but I think I explained enough to make it make sense without knowing the anime. But please know this whole series (if it gets that far) will be heavily based on the anime. If you have a suggestions to make my writing better, please let me know!

[applebuttercringe]

Arcane and Class Conflict

So, it has become pretty obvious that Arcane will mostly abandon the class oppression plotline and end Season 2 with Zaun and Piltover teaming up to fight off Noxus. The plot is almost definitely going to gloss over Caitlyns fascist martial law over Zaun, and focus the story on redeeming her personally via her relationship with Vi. As is reasonable, a lot of people are kind of upset with this direction, and in general how Arcane seems to try and portray both sides as equally in the wrong even when the majority of Zauns issues can be directly traced back to mistreatment by the Topsiders.

Lets be honest, this was obvious from the start. Here's why:

Arcane was made by a big budget corporation: Arcane cost $250 Million to make, which is the largest budget for an animated series ever. This money came directly from Riot games. Riot isn't exactly the most enlightened company. Despite their profits and budget increasing year over year (the average income per employee was $600,000) in 2024 they layed off 530 employees with little warning or reason. Then they opened an Arcane themed office with Executive offices. They recently settled a $100 Million dollar Sex discrimination lawsuit for gender discrimination and sexual harassment in the workplace. As talented as the writers, artist, designers, musicians, coders, animators, etc. at Riot are, ultimately the story has to fit into the boxes of what the producers and executives want. Those executives aren't exactly the most class critical.

Arcane is first and foremost an advertisement: Arcane is a prequel for League of Legends, giving more detailed backstories to some of their most popular characters (Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Jayce), after Arcane was released the usage rates of these champions increased immensely and with it so did the profits associated with these champions. Interestingly, the amount that these characters popularity increased was mostly in line with how well their character was received in Arcane. For example: despite being practically unrecognizable to his League counterpart in season 1, Viktor experienced one of the greatest increases in usage rates of all champions. This was directly connected to his fan favorite status amongst the Arcane audience. As such, Riot has an investment interest in making the champions as interesting, badass, and likable in Arcane as possible. If Caitlyn was really torn down by the narrative for her turn to fascism they might not sell as many Pool Party Caitlyn cosmetics. In Arcane, the world building regarding extreme poverty and oppression is just a backdrop to give the champions cool backstories. Not to make you think critically about wealth disparities or systematic oppression.

Not to mention, taking any political stance at all would alienate part of the audience. They invested $250 Million dollars in this show, they need/want it to appeal to the greatest audience possible if they are going to make that money back.

Arcane is character focussed, not world focussed: From the beginning Arcane was always focussed on the characters first and foremost. I saw some people upset that Season 2 didn't spend enough time on the world outside the main cast. Like not showing the audience in detail how the power struggle between the chem-barons affects life in the Undercity. But this is just always how Arcane has been. Season 1 never focussed on how the Hexgates revolutionized trade or cross continental relations, only on how it elevated Jayce. The most we saw of the child labor in the mines in season 1 was as a backdrop for a Jayce and Vi fightscene, and then a child is fridged to start an argument between them. In season 2 the only significance the freeing of the child miners is that Isha joins the cast. The world exists to serve the characters, as is only shown in detail in the way it directly affects the characters. It is a cool setting, but ultimately the show will always spend more screentime on the characters emotional lives than the cultural and economic life of Zaun and Piltover as a whole. This isn't necessarily a good or bad thing, it is just a writing choice. This also means that the finale will be far more focussed on the conclusion of these characters emotional arcs than it is in resolving or otherwise finding some conclusion to the civil war plotline.

Of course Arcane isn't a revolutionary story about rising up against oppressors. It is a League of Legends champion advertisement. Subversive political takes don't emerge from big budget blockbusters on Netflix. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, it is just the genre.

Just some thoughts. I've seen some discussion about this and wanted to throw in my two cents on the topic.

[tarnishedxknight]

Noah, having more or less sent Drace away with the promise that they would be attending lunch shortly, was puttering in his kitchen nook, getting some water and trying to wake himself up as he usually did. A smile tugged at his lips when he heard Larsa's half-awake comment. "Your mentors... expect you to lunch within the hour," Noah said with a firm tone but still one that was laced with humor if the person listening knew him well enough. "Drace is already on her way there. We should dress soon and make our way to the commons."

As Larsa apologized for getting disoriented, Noah turned more serious, and perhaps a bit pensive. "It is alright, young lord. It has happened to me on many an occasion as well. It will take our minds time to adjust, I'm sure." He drank the water, feeling the Mist affecting his head particularly vigorously this day. He already had the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes and at his temples, and he knew from the mere feel of it that the glow in his amber eyes would be noticeable today. Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn't. Today, it was.

Once they were dressed, cleaned up a bit, and situated, they left Noah's quarters and made their way to the common kitchen. Drace gave a smile when she saw Noah and Larsa enter the room. "Good morning, my lord."

"We already said good morning to each other a while ago, but if you want to reinforce it- Oh, you meant the kid," Tony said by way of a joke.

Drace looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes, completely unimpressed. "You are no lord," she said flatly.

Basch and Ashe watched this conversation from afar, thus far only sipping at teacups and not having actually ventured to make themselves lunch yet. "It is mid-afternoon, not morning," Ashelia mumbled into her teacup. Basch smiled softly but said nothing. For his princess, "morning" was just before sunrise, he knew, not after the clock struck twelve. He loved how possessive of the sun and its morning light she was sometimes, as if she properly gave it the appreciation and respect it deserved and everyone else was, well, slacking off.

When Larsa addressed him as "Lord," Tony turned and threw Drace an I told you so expression. "See? He gets it," he said, before giving Larsa his attention.

Drace released a partial groan and turned back to her salad.

"You are? What ails you, little man?" Tony asked.

"Perhaps that it best discussed in private," Noah said firmly, glancing at Basch and Ashelia.

"Okay. Yeah. Sure. After lunch, I can take you down to the med bay. Great people there, you'll like them," Tony said.

Natasha came in to microwave a burrito, cordially greeting everyone present.

"Are you poaching on my burritos again?" Tony asked.

"You buy them by the crate. I think there's enough for everyone," Nat replied with a smirk as she very defiantly pressed "start" on the microwave.

"That is not the point," Tony said.

"You know the rules. You didn't write you name on 'em," Nat said unapologetically.

"Wow. You see what I put up with?" he said generally to no one in particular. But then, because he was feeling friendly, he turned to Larsa again, as Noah ushered the boy over to the cabinets and refrigerator to choose something to eat. "So, how's it feel to be reunited with your dad?"

Ashelia fumbled her teacup, spilling some of the tea onto the table. Drace choked on her salad, lifting a napkin to her lips as her eyes went wide. Basch's brow furrowed and he looked to Noah, his own eyes beginning to widen. Noah... looked at Tony murderously.

"Tony, what the hell?" Nat said, incredulous that he would just blurt something like that out.

"What?" Tony asked, truly not understanding. "It's not like they don't already know." He looked at Larsa, the boy's stunned expression saying otherwise. "Right?" He looked at Noah, seeing the rage building in the man's glowing gaze. "Right?"

"Oh, my god..." Nat mumbled disappointedly under her breath as she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Aw, shit," Tony then said, realizing he had just made the announcement of the century, apparently. Or... of the past five millennia, rather.

"Larsa is your son?!" Ashelia blurted out. She looked at Basch, utterly blown away by this news. "That would make him your nephew!"

Basch's heart was pounding, but as much as he, too, wanted an explanation and was terribly curious in addition to shocked, he knew now was not the time. "Princess..." he whispered, trying to get her to be quiet, for now at least.

"You are... not helping, right now," Tony said, pointing at Ashelia.

"Keep your mouth shut from now on, Stark," Noah said, seething. His own heart was ready to leap from his chest. The Mist was loving this, building inside him and rendering him lightheaded.

"What he meant was... Is it not good to be back with those with whom you are familiar?" Drace tried, but unfortunately, the damage had already been done.

Larsa did not expect to be unfrozen at all, let alone in the future. When he had snuck upon Gabranth's ship set for Pharos he did it to ensure the peace would be possible. The last thing he remembered was running towards fallen Gabranth and then... Light. (Marvel AU) - tarnishedxjudgement

@tarnishedxjudgement

Noah didn't have the same abilities and resources in this time period with which to inform himself of anything and everything that was going on around him. He was in the dark, most of the time, unless directly informed of things, a condition he hated. Being at the mercy of others he neither knew nor trusted for information was not a position he usually found himself in.

It was the reason he hadn't known about Drace being found after him until she was brought one day to the training compound. Inexplicably, after executing her in his own timeline, here she was again, seemingly from another. The entire experience was wholly jarring, but not nearly as jarring as losing his only son.

So often had Noah thought of Larsa in the months following his revival in this strange time. Thoughts invaded his peace, his sleep, his ability to function, until he found himself so erratic and unhinged that he did not recognize himself anymore. Even Drace found it difficult to comfort him, and she had always been a master of that feat. There was no closure to be had, no second chances, no going back... and that knowledge was eating Noah alive from the inside out.

But once again, information had been kept from him, and yet another arrival from Ivalice to the Avengers compound was neither expected nor necessarily wanted. Would it be another Dalmascan? Gods forbid a Rozarrian. And the way the people of this time seemed to think that all Ivalicians got along and would be happy to see each other was beyond irritating to him. Nevertheless, when he was specifically summoned to greet this newcomer, Noah begrudgingly left his quarters to do so.

What he saw... stopped him dead in his tracks. Within seconds, his expression betrayed him, and within a few more, he was on his knees, his legs giving way in disbelief of the sight that lay before him. It was little Lord Larsa, looking just as he did when last Noah laid eyes on him, perfect as can be.

He knew he should say something, but words betrayed him as well as his own legs had. Instead, he merely stared, the absence of his helm serving to display to the boy all the shock, confusion, and relief at seeing him standing there. Finally, he forced out the only two words he felt he could say without falling apart.

"My lord..."

[youshouldjustliveinmychurch]

Symbolism of Jinx's Hair

*Arcane spoilers*

CW: Violence, self-harm, suicide

OH. MY. GOD. So so so many thoughts, but for now a few quick thoughts on the symbolism of Jinx's hair.

-The bangs are there the whole time and represent her relationship with Silco since we see young Silco with similar bangs. (credit to Tik Tok for that).

-After Isha's death, Jinx's very long hair is completely undone from its braid. This calls to mind Rapunzel, perhaps symbolizing that in her depression Jinx is isolated in the tower of her mind and - maybe - needs someone to rescue her but it's difficult to reach her unless she tosses her hair down and lets someone in. Problem is, Jinx doesn't feel worthy of letting anyone in. Silco, while well-meaning, is reminiscent of Mother Gothel, who keeps Rapunzel trapped by teaching her to act a certain way. The hair is unbraided, which symbolizes the loss of her identity as Jinx. Her inability to form and be comfortable in a distinct identity not explicitly attached to another person leads to a lack of self-worth that causes her death.

-THEN she cuts her hair to the length it happens to be when she's powder in the other timeline. This symbolizes a reversion to - not necessarily her old self (too much has happened) - but to someone closer to who she would have been without so much trauma. This is the point when she's about to *you know* and Ekko manages to stop her. The sad thing about Jinx in the current timeline is that her identity has become irreparably tied to other people because of her trauma so she doesn't think she has any value on her own. First she (and her identity as a younger sister / daughter) was linked to Vi and Vander, then attached to Silco (as a daughter). When she loses Silco, she loses her identity, until she once more finds an identity in being a sister / attaching to Isha. She thinks she has value by playing that role. When she loses that, she once more loses her sense of identity and worth because she's never been allowed to grow up / form one on her own because of her trauma. That's why her "sacrifice" in the end is such a tragedy and not actually something to be admired.  It all stems from her lack of valuing herself, which is a tragedy. The Powder in the other timeline is different because she's had time to form an independent identity and sense of self-worth which we can see demonstrated by her clothes and the fact that she's not very susceptible to the slight pressure from Vander and others to be more ambitious and live up to her potential. The ONLY thing that makes her help Ekko is the fact that Vi is alive in the other timeline. She expresses her love in her own way by creating something contrasted to how Jinx expresses her love for Vi by destroying herself. Also, Ekko is the only one who can reach her in that moment and stop her self-destruction because he sees her soul - the real Powder. It's like the difference between friends and family. We love our families. They are (good or bad) important. But they have preconceived notions about us and our identities related to them. Our friends, on the other hand, CHOOSE us. They choose to be around us (ideally) because they like us for who we are in our natural state.

-When she zooms up with Ekko, her hair has been changed yet again. She keeps the bangs (representing Silco) and has dyed a streak purple (to represent her and Vi together - pink + blue and also VIOLET). The rest, however, is jaggedly cut off close to her head. Instead of this representing an entirely new identity, I see it as representing the hope and POSSIBILITY of a new, more authentic identity growing (see hair growing) while still keeping the foundation of her care for the people she loves. The hair is cut jaggedly and isn't necessarily beautiful or put together by typical standards, but it doesn't have to be. One of the main themes of this season is that "brokenness" is essential to who we are and isn't always a bad thing. As Ekko says, it's a chance to build something new. Unfortunately that never happens because of the consequences of trauma.

I'm not sure I agree with Jinx's death because on the surface it feels like the tired trope of villain / morally grey character is redeemed by sacrificing themselves for someone else. Personally, I think it's much more powerful to have a character take responsibility for themselves while also forgiving themselves. I concede that this was done in a really nuanced way. The thing is, I don't think we're actually supposed to read Jinx's death as a heroic act that redeems her. Instead, it is more in line with the themes to read it as a horrific suicide caused by trauma, oppression, and a lack of self-worth/identity. In that split-second decision, Jinx reverts to all that she knows and has been taught, even though for a moment she did have a shot at a new identity. She chooses to die because she doesn't value herself / doesn't know who she is and has been taught all her life that you show love through violence (even if it's violence in protection of those you love). With as clever and innovative as Jinx is, don't tell me she and Vi couldn't have figured out another way to best Vander. It makes sense to read this moment as an avoidable, tragic suicide because Jinx is clearly suicidal and even makes an attempt. The song that plays during her attempt also plays during her death. We're supposed to see this event more in the light of what happened to Isha, which HEAVILY foreshadowed and paralleled Jinx's death by showing a child's misguided attempt at expressing love. An innocent child shouldn't feel obligated to sacrifice their life to save someone else's life. That moment is horrific. Not even an adult should be asked to do that. That's an unmistakable tragedy. Just like Isha was doing what she was taught (the simplicity and complexity of "pew-pew"), Jinx was doing what she was taught. It's a cycle of innocence, violence, and trauma that also mirrors Jinx's accidental role in Vander's death when she was trying to mold herself to what everyone expected her to be. It's haunting that Jinx says, "Killing isn't mercy." She doesn't give herself mercy in the end. We see that even though Vi tries her hardest to show Jinx she's loved and can have mercy/ a second chance, Jinx doesn't know how to accept that. It's not a coincidence that in that same conversation with ghost Silco they talk about identity. That's just my personal interpretation.

Anyway.

[lavenderclownwritesanddraws]

I Really Want to Stay at Your House (Jamil X V! Reader, Cyberpunk AU)

This fanfiction contains mild spoilers for character interactions in Cyberpunk 2077.

In Cyberpunk 2077, the main character is V. they're currently a mercenary trying to survive in the chaos of Night City.

If you' re wondering about Johnny—well, he’s the personality living rent-free in your cyberware implant. Johnny Silverhand was a legend in Night City, known as both a terrorist and a rockstar, and he died decades ago. Now, he exists as a digital ghost in your head. He can talk to you and even appear in your vision sometimes, which is… an experience, to say the least.

Over time, Johnny and V build an unlikely friendship, leaning on each other to make sense of all the chaos and sacrifices that come with life in Night City.

This fanfiction references the in-game event I Really Want to Stay at Your House and the moment when you let Johnny take control of your body for a day. Unsurprisingly, Johnny being Johnny, he goes overboard—drinking too much, hitting up a strip club, picking up a stripper, and then crashing your car. Yes, all while in your body.

Trust me, listening to I Really Want to Stay at Your House will hit differently after reading this.

I Really Want to Stay at Your House (Jamil X V! Reader, Cyberpunk AU, The Lovers Progression)

The door to V’s apartment slid shut with a dull thud, and she exhaled slowly as if releasing the weight of the entire city from her shoulders. Each step felt like wading through quicksand. The day—or rather, the day Johnny had taken from her—was a blur of flashing lights, noise, and pain. Her head pounded, and the sour taste of alcohol lingered on her tongue, making her grimace. She rubbed her temples, willing herself to focus.

Empty. The apartment was mercifully empty, or so she thought. Relief washed over her. The last thing she wanted was for her partner, Jamil, to see her like this—hungover, bruised, and barely standing. She kicked off her boots, the sound echoing in the stillness. Just a few steps more, and she could collapse into bed and forget this nightmare ever happened.

“Didn’t think you’d make it back in one piece.”

The voice, low and deceptively calm, sent a chill down her spine. V froze, her eyes darting to the dimly lit kitchen. There he was, leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. Jamil Viper. His dark eyes, always sharp and unreadable, watched her with an intensity that made her stomach churn. His hair, dark and slightly disheveled, framed his face, casting shadows that only made him look more imposing. The soft glow of his tech implants along his forearms pulsed rhythmically, like a predator’s heartbeat along the oversized jacket she had seen him wear so many times.

“Jamil…” V’s voice cracked, and she winced at how pathetic it sounded.

He pushed off the counter with a grace that belied the tension in his movements, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her. His gaze swept over her, taking in every bruise, every unsteady breath. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, forcing a weak smile. “Really needed to hear that.”

He stopped a few feet away “Care to explain?” His tone was deceptively mild, but she knew better. Beneath it lay a storm waiting to be unleashed.

V ran a hand through her hair, wincing as the motion sent a fresh wave of pain through her head. “It’s… a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” He tilted his head slightly “I’ve had plenty of time, actually. Watching your biometrics spike and crash in real-time tends to do that.”

Her heart sank. “You were tracking me?” She should have known better. The Top Netrunner for the Asim Corporation’s Counterintelligence Division didn’t just sit idle when his partner was out self-destructing.

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t act so surprised. I had to know you weren’t dead.” His voice dropped, soft but deadly. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you spiraling into alcohol poisoning, adrenaline surges, and then flatlining in a crash. Care to enlighten me?”

He was close now, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. His dark hair fell around his face, framing eyes that burned with a mix of fury and hurt. She’d seen him angry before—sharp-tongued, sarcastic—but this was different. He was quiet and controlled, and that made it infinitely worse.

V took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I… let Johnny take control.”

Silence. The kind that felt like a knife pressed against her throat.

“Ah,” Jamil said finally, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. “So, you handed your body over to that ghost in your system. To drink, to gamble, to crash your car. Am I missing anything, or is that the whole highlight reel?”

V stepped past him, moving towards the couch, needing to sit before her knees gave out. She dropped onto the cushions, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

Jamil followed, his footsteps slow but deliberate. He stopped in front of her, then leaned down, placing his hands on either side of her head. “Then how was it supposed to go, V?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, and his breath brushed against her ear. “Tell me.” Each syllable turned into ice piercing through her.

She didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze head-on. “I thought he needed a break. I thought giving him one day would… help.”

Jamil’s jaw tightened, and he pushed off the couch, pacing. The controlled movements betrayed his simmering rage. “Help? Him?” He turned back, eyes blazing. “At what cost? You come back like this—hungover, bruised, and broken—and I’m supposed to accept that you did this for him?”

“It was a mistake,” she said, her voice firm. “One I won’t repeat.”

“Damn right, you won’t,” he snarled back, but there was no satisfaction in his tone. Slowly, he returned to the couch and sat, inches away from her, his elbows resting on his knees. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” His eyes softened, the harsh lines of his face relaxing ever so slightly. “Every time you throw yourself into these situations, you drag me along for the ride. I can’t… I won’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself.”

V nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. And I’m sorry. I can’t undo what’s done, but I can promise it won’t happen again.”

Jamil leaned closer, his hands resting on the back of the couch, effectively caging her in. “Do you think I want your promises?” He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping. “I want you. Alive. Here. Not a shell.”

“I’m here now,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I’m here, and I’m listening. I’m not running.”

He studied her for a long moment as if searching for a lie hidden in her words. Then, slowly, he leaned back, giving her space. “Good,” he said, his tone softer. “Because I’m tired, V. Tired of chasing after you, tired of feeling like I’m one step away from losing you.”

V reached for his hand, their fingers intertwining. “I know.” Her grip tightened. “I’m tired too. But I’m still here.”

He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “Next time, you think about him, think about what you’re risking.” He glanced down at their joined hands. “Because I won’t let you go without a fight.”

—————————————————————

The kettle’s soft whistle broke the silence, a subtle contrast to the rain pattering against the windows of the dimly lit apartment. Jamil moved precisely, pouring the boiling water into a mug. The faint aroma of spiced tea filled the air, warm and calming, in sharp contrast to the tension between them. V sat on the couch, her head resting against her hand as exhaustion clung like a heavy cloak. She’d endured plenty of rough nights, but tonight felt different—heavier somehow.

Jamil approached her, the mug in one hand, a medkit in the other. His gaze, sharp and discerning, flickered over her face, taking in the bruises and shadows under her eyes. He handed her the tea, his voice low but firm. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

V took the mug with a quiet thanks, the warmth seeping into her fingers as she sipped. The tea burned her tongue slightly, but the spice and heat soothed her. She glanced at Jamil, who was already settling beside her, opening the medkit with practiced ease.

“Let me see your arm,” he said, not waiting for her to comply. His hands, steady and meticulous, worked to clean and dress the scrapes on her forearm. His movements betrayed no hesitation, but she could feel the weight of his focus—a quiet intensity that always made her chest tighten.

As his fingers brushed against her skin, she winced. “You don’t have to patch me up every time, you know.”

He didn’t look up. “Clearly, you can’t be trusted to do it yourself.”

“Ouch,” Johnny’s voice broke through, sarcastic as ever. His flickering hologram appeared in V’s peripheral vision, leaning nonchalantly against the edge of the coffee table. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a regular househusband here. Never thought I’d see the day.”

V sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Johnny, not now.”

“What? Just calling it like I see it,” he replied, smirking. “Guy’s got more patience than anyone I’ve ever met. Even if he does look like he’s plotting your funeral half the time.”

V shot him a glare, muttering, “Says the man who got us both into this mess.”

Jamil let out a soft sigh, his shoulders rising and falling with the movement. He’d long since learned that addressing the engram only prolonged the chaos. Instead, he fixed his gaze on V, his expression calm but with a hint of weariness.

“You’re talking to him again.” It wasn’t a question.

“Occupational hazard,” V muttered, taking another sip of tea. She glanced at Jamil, her eyes softening. “But he’s not the one here. You are.”

Jamil’s gaze flicked over her, and though his expression remained composed, the faintest trace of a smile ghosted across his lips. “Let’s get you to bed before your occupational hazards get the better of you again.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The bedroom was dark, lit only by the soft, amber glow of a shaded lamp on the bedside table. The rain outside drummed gently against the windows, its rhythm a calming counterpoint to the ever-present hum of Night City’s neon chaos. The air was warm, tinged faintly with the herbal scent of Jamil’s tea from earlier. V stood by the wardrobe, shrugging out of her jacket and letting it fall onto the back of a chair. She glanced over at Jamil, who was already in the middle of changing.

He tugged off his oversized jacket first, hanging it with practiced precision over the arm of a chair. Beneath it, his tank top clung to his lean, muscular frame, revealing the taut lines of his shoulders and the faint definition of his arms. He moved with the same fluid grace that always caught her attention—every gesture measured and precise, betraying the discipline and control that defined him.

When he reached for the hem of his tank top, V couldn’t help but watch as he pulled it over his head, revealing smooth, dusky skin and the faint sheen of sweat from the day’s tension. The sharp contours of his back shifted as he stretched, and her eyes caught on the small, dark insertion port at the base of his cervical spine. The port gleamed faintly in the dim light, a stark contrast against the unmodified perfection of his skin.

He pulled on a clean black T-shirt, the fabric stretching briefly over his broad shoulders before settling into place. The outfit—a plain tee and loose joggers—was startlingly casual for someone who always seemed so put together, but it suited him. He looked comfortable, a rare sight that made her chest tighten.

Jamil glanced at her briefly, raising a brow. “Done staring?”

Caught, V smirked and turned away to finish changing. When she turned back, Jamil was already lying in bed, his back propped against the pillows, a datapad resting on his lap. His legs stretched out beneath the covers, his body relaxed as he scrolled through updates. The glow of the screencast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the elegant curve of his jaw and the faint hollows beneath his cheekbones.

The neon light from the city outside slipped through the curtains, fracturing into streaks of red and blue across his face. He looked almost otherworldly in the mix of colors, his sharp features softened by the cozy surroundings. V took a moment to study him—this rare, unguarded version of Jamil. His brow furrowed slightly as he read, his lips pressed into a thin line of concentration.

Something in her stirred. She crossed the room quietly, slipping into bed beside him. The mattress dipped under her weight, and he glanced at her, his expression softening as she settled against the pillows.

“Work updates?” she asked, nodding toward the datapad.

“Just catching up,” he replied, his tone as even as ever. “I returned early today to… make sure you came back. Now I’m behind.”

The faint rebuke in his voice made her wince, but she saw the flicker of relief in his eyes when he looked at her again. She wanted to say something—something light, something to dispel the lingering tension—but instead, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her forehead to his side.

Jamil froze for a moment, caught off guard, before setting the datapad aside. His hand rested lightly on her arm, his thumb brushing idly against her skin. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her words muffled against his shirt. “For scaring you. For making you worry.”

His hand stilled for a moment before resuming its gentle motion. “You say that now,” he said, his tone tinged with a faint bitterness. But there was no anger there—only a quiet, aching vulnerability. “Don’t make promises you cannot keep.”

“I’m trying,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ll try harder. For you. For us.”

His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He tilted his head slightly, resting his chin lightly on her hair. For a moment, the only sound was the rain outside and the faint hum of the city beyond the glass.

“Just… be careful. I don’t care how hard things get. Just come back.” he said after a long pause.

V tightened her hold on him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll do my best,” she whispered. “I promise.”

He sighed, his body relaxing slightly against hers. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the glow of the city painting the walls around them in fractured light.

Eventually, Jamil shifted, pulling the covers up over both of them. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice a murmur. “Tomorrow will be better.”

“Get some rest, V,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple. She nodded against him, letting her eyes close. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of Jamil’s breathing.

[mumms-the-word]

Yet another Veilguard update with the usual good, the bad, the ugly, and the me freaking out about minor references and callbacks haha

This one is very long sorry

So since the last update I have done as much side content as possible before heading to the Hossberg Wetlands and later Weisshaupt (which I just completed last night) which included, briefly, unlocking all of the solas regrets murals

And uh WOW was that whole deep dive a doozy. I definitely should have spaced out the murals over time rather than movie-marathoned them back to back. But the things I learned about Solas…it’s insanity

In a good way

In a really horrifying way

I loved that our theories about Solas being a spirit of Wisdom first were confirmed, and I lost my mind over the fact that the first elves were spirits who gained physical bodies by taking Titan blood (aka lyrium). And the fact that Solas CREATED THE BLIGHT by essentially making the Titans Tranquil?? And that’s why Dwarves don’t dream????

Losing my mind. Solas what have you DONE.

I still ahev to process it all haha but I do have a few thoughts

So far, I wish there was more engagement with these elements and the Chant of Light. The companions react and say that these reveals basically dismantle Andrastianism but the Chant has several allegorical parallels to what, apparently, really happened. The Maker’s first children were spirits, and all that…so I kind of wish the Chantry had a bigger presence in the game with more reactivity

But that’s a post for another day. For now, I reloaded back to only 3 murals unlocked so the team only knows the story up to Solas creating the Veil. I’ll rewatch the others later.

I got worried about being locked out of stuff so I went ahead and did as much side content as I could with a couple of exceptions. Turns out, I probably didn’t need to do that and it would have made more sense narratively if I hadn’t. More on that in a minute

The Siege of Weisshaupt mission was SO GOOD!! Like…the main missions are really where this game shines, I think. I have gripes with some of the companion conversations, but in the actual story missions, the action, the intensity, all of it is so good. And I thought Ghilan’nain turning her archdemon into a many-headed hydra creature was *chefs kiss* so cool. I love fighting big/unique stuff like that!

All that said the follow up scene with the team at the table leaves…a lot to be desired

Listen, DA games pride themselves on bringing together a team of companions that players adore and fall in love with. Naturally we enjoy helping out our companions because we like them. We don’t have to be told to help them because we just generally do that…and if we don’t then, rip, suffer the consequences

So I got a bit annoyed when the scene suddenly turned to a very overt “fix our problems” narrative

I don’t know, that feels so…forced to me. Varric literally tells me I have to solve everyone’s problems. Which is like…I was going to! Because they’re my friends! But being straight up told like “hey you have to solve everyone’s problems and stop their distractions or this team isn’t going to function” is like…I’m sorry are we adults or aren’t we? Why am I being told to babysit the team? Can you guys not pursue these distractions on your own rather than wait for me to give you permission? Did we all forget that two gods are out there rampaging? That they’re strong enough to destroy a fortress that stood against the blight and various conflicts for over 900 years? That they haven’t stopped and show no signs of stopping anytime soon?

But no, by all means, tell me in very obvious terms that my job is now to reconcile all your differences before I face the gods again. That doesn’t feel very handed at all.

Let me be clear. I love to help my companion. I love the idea that you build a team that works well because you have shaped them via your leadership skills. I love the idea that your team works well because you have invested in them. That’s really the heart of any DA game—gather your team, earn their loyalty, and see how well the friends you’ve made along the way assist you in the big battles to come.

But…that scene around the kitchen table could have been so much better, so much more nuanced, and far less “Solve their problems.”

To me, that scene should have been everyone fighting, calling out everyone’s distractions and mistakes, and essentially devolving into outright arguments over the table until Rook yells at everyone to shut up. Everyone is mad, everyone is upset. And then maybe the companions are like “sorry Rook, listen, I have a lot on my mind. I’m still going to help with the Big Problem but I’m also going to pursue this Other Thing whether you like it or not.” No suggestion that it’s now your problem to solve, but a heavy hint that it might get done more quickly if you help (which also gives you room to be an ass and not help). In this scenario, everyone ends up being very disgruntled with you, but you still have your hint that you need to pursue companion questlines if you want to see their cool abilities or special items or get them to be a Hero of the Veilguard or whatever…but that’s just my opinion

Basically I wanted subtly and tension. So much more tension.

What we got instead was a couple of annoyed comments and then Emmrich being like “oh dear we’re all distracted by the things that bother us” and everyone offering up distractions that, yes, need to be resolved…but it’s very easy to be like “hey bud the Hand of Glory and the Nadas Dirthalen can wait until the gods aren’t threatening to destroy the world I think.”

It’s not the worst scene in the world, but it could have been reframed better. Either frame it as “Sorry Rook but none of these factions trust you enough to aid you in the fight, you have to prove yourself to them” (and loop in the companion questlines that way) or show your team literally unraveling because they can’t get along or agree with you—now you see the evidence of what you need to fix, and nobody has to outright tell you to “solve everyone’s distractions.” It’s just implied. Because you saw them fighting. A lot.

Like duh I knew I’d have to resolve everyone’s problems if I want them to like me or stick around! That’s just what I’ve come to expect from RPG games like this. It’s an expectation of the genre. But I don’t want to be told that’s my job now. If anything it triggers my contrarian nature and now I want to see what bad ending I get when I don’t listen to the game’s extremely heavy push for me to deal with everyone’s issues

I won’t, but I’m tempted

I just…wanted it to be better. I want see everyone bitching at each other until everyone leaves in a huff and Rook just sits at the table, head in their hands like “oh my god everyone hates me and they hate each other and we’re going to die if everyone can’t get their shit together”

Then maybe Varric sits down next to them and goes, “Hey kid, did I ever tell you about the time Hawke tried to convince a Rivaini pirate, a weird abomination, a Dalish blood mage, a stiff-necked captain of the guard, a broody elf who glowed in the dark, and a few other friends besides to all agree to fight as a team to stop a qunari invasion in Kirkwall? It worked, more or less. By the end of the night, everyone had worked together enough to end up with one dead Arishok and an entire city’s gratitude.”

Maybe Rook looks up and says, “And how’d they manage that little miracle? Without everyone trying to kill each other in the process.”

And maybe Varric smiles and shrugs. “They had their differences, trust me. Half the time you couldn’t put two of them in a room together without a fight breaking out. But they all believed in one thing. They believed in Hawke.”

Then maybe there’s a pause, as he lets Rook consider that for a moment, before he stands up and says, “It’s a good bedtime story, in any case. I’ll let you sleep on it.”

Sigh. It just would have been cool…

Now in all fairness the scene felt even clunkier because I had actively been doing side quests and helping out my friends so it was like…it felt weird to have this implication that I’m not already helping them. It makes me think I shouldn’t do any of their side quests until after the Siege of Weisshaupt but who knows

I keep pendulum swinging back and forth between moments of brilliance and moments that leave me baffled and wondering who made some of these narrative/writing calls. I don’t hate the game by any stretch of the imagination. Like I said the Siege of Weisshaupt was amazing! And I loved the callbacks to precious games! You should have seen me live reacting and screaming about codexes in the Weisshaupt library haha But it’s like whiplash when something that good is followed up by a scene that feels excessively more hamfisted in comparison.

Anyway I am very busy this weekend and dunno when I’ll get to write another update soooo if you’re following for more, hope to give you more updates in the near-ish future!

[lolitastories]

Under The Rain

Pt.1

Thomas Shelby

Chapter 1

I know it was a bad idea to walk before Dawn, the area was quiet and I was rushing under the rain to get back home safely. My head was a bit paranoid knowing I wasn’t in the right territory and it got worse when a gunshot echoed closed by. I could take care of myself with the gun hidden under what now was a flimsy dress but a gun could only hold so many bullets and this place reeked of irish criminals. I lift my head up and rush to a pub I knew, well atleast I knew the owner. The door creaks shut behind me and as I try to dust what I could of the water off and a lady comes to view behind the bar. “We are closed” Tall,thin, blonde hair, and an irish accent.

“It won’t take long,” I look around hoping to see Harry sneak his head out from somewhere. “Is Harry around?” Her eyes look at everything but mine. She shakes her head.

“He took the day off,” She turned her body and continued cleaning. “Don’t you know it's not safe for a woman like you to be walking around alone?” Apparently she wasn’t cleaning but she was fixing me a glass.

“I don’t drink” That's when her eyes flicker up to finally look at me. A small huff falls from her mouth.

“Everybody drinks, why come to a pub then?”

“Some people like to get drunk, others like company” I push the glass towards her. “I like to see how drunk people can get, it's funny” A slight smile appears after she down the whole drink in one swoop. “And the other looking for company well,” I take my chance to take a seat on the bar stool, “They are more pitiful than a whore who thinks highly of herself”

“So you come here to taunt” I shrug looking over the place. It was so neatly kept compared to the last time I’ve seen it and so quiet.

“Tell me you don’t enjoy it?” She stands up tall.

“Some, but as a barmaid you learn to listen and the people who come to drink, have stories that would make you drink” I don’t doubt it. “Their horror after war and their struggle to keep their families afloat, it's sad” I smile, shaking my head a bit.

“Scratch what I said before then,” She raised her eyebrow listening to my next words. “That's even more pitiful” Her smile disappeared but quickly was replaced with another slight smile.

“Do you smoke?” I shake my head. “So you don’t smoke or drink” She steps forward leaning against the bar. “Are you a whore?”

“If I were, I would be a very bad one,” She looks surprised at my response. Her words came out with poison but I knew better than let someone's words get to me so quickly. “I don’t have the gift to make men happy,”

“They only want your body not your mind” 

“It's a two for one deal, my mind would never allow it,”

“Men around here don’t care,” Ain’t that the truth. “If you are looking for so much why come out alone and put yourself for anyone to grab?” I look up, turning my head to the side a bit. I knew by her tone she didn’t trust or like me but somehow her words spoke true concern.

“It's not so much” I emphasize her words. “It's the minimum, we deserve so much more-” My words are cut off when the doors open and in come walking a man drench in rain water like me.

“Get me a drink Grace” He stumbles over the bar. He wasn’t drunk, he was exhausted. His hat falls onto the bar surface and when Grace nods he turns around to sit in one of the chairs.

“You should leave,” Grace whispers, coming around the bar to tell me before handing the man his drink. Light could be seen already rising from the top of the buildings, I should be fine.

“Get her a drink too” He pointed over to me. “Seems like she is having a day like mine” I look over hoping to catch a glimpse of his whole face but his stare is fixed on the doors.

“That is kind of you but I was just leaving” I whispered a thanks to Grace and took to standing. I watch Grace flinch from the side of my eye when we hear a loud bang on the table. The glass he harshly set down thankfully didn’t break.

“I came for some company,” My body instantly turns towards the bar, “Where’s Harry?” Grace looks over to him

“Took the day off” She was already pouring him another drink. He hums an okay and his next words elevated my heart rate

“Are you a whore?” I shake my head. “Prostitute? Well same thing” He lets out a dry chuckle. “Any decent lady whose not a whore wouldn’t be here at a pub at this time of day”

“I lost track of time,” I said confidently, turning over to him.

“So an exclusive whore?” His harsh tone almost made me lose my temper. His eyes flicker over to me. His light blue eyes were mesmerizing but his character overthrew all what could be nice of him.

“In that aspect,” I took the drink prepared by Grace and walked over to stand in front of the man. “I am as pure as a girl could ever be” I say in a low tone leaning over to place the drink in front of him. I heard of this man before, I recognized him by the way people described him. Cold stare, harsh tone, and he speaks with confidence.

“If that is true,” He leans forward without looking away from my eyes. “What are you doing here then?” I took my chance to pull out a chair in front of him and take a seat.

“Early train” He leaned back untrusting of my words, then again his eyes and everything about him screamed untrusting.

“You’re american?” I simply nod. I couldn’t deny it, my accent gave it away. “What is an American doing here and being a woman, why are you alone?”

“I’m not,” His eyebrows raised. “I have family I am visiting here and since I was passing by I thought I would say hey to Harry”

“How do you know Harry? I spent most of my time here and never saw you around” My stare fought against shifting to another place other than his bearing eyes.

“I was brought over at a young age and when I lost my parents I was in bad shape” Harry was a major help. “Ended up at this pub and when Harry found me he gave me hell. I decided to go to America to study teaching before the war started”  His expression softened a bit. He wasn’t a man who is used to being scared but he was one to be cautious. Everybody around here and my family knew who he was. After coming back from fighting in WW1 they spoke either highly or rubbed in dirt but either way he had pushed his family to the top and he had no intention to stop.

“You obviously have education, then let me give you a piece of advice,” He leans forward again. “If you want to stay pure don’t go walking around alone, it will give bad ideas to wrong people”

“Like you?” I wanted to take back how challenging my words sounded but by the looks of it, it amused him.

“Have you heard of me?” Of course.

“No” I fake concern as I shake my head.

“Well, if you stay, you will soon. My name is Thomas Shelby”  I could finally put a face to the name. The infamous Thomas Shelby, part of the peaky blinders. If he knew who I was he wouldn’t be this calm.

Pt. 2