#it's not explicitly stated but it's like THE major theme

[cheerioskid]

out of curiosity, could I ask what your blog title means? :>

I’m assuming your username is some reference to cheerios (the tasty cereal)

of course! "the crickets have arthritis" is the title of this amazing piece of slam poetry by shane koyczan that i found a couple of years ago and genuinely altered my view on life so i keep it as my blog title in case someone googles it and has a similar experience!! honestly i recommend listening/reading anything shane koyczan has done because its all so beautifully written (and im not even that big on poetry!)

here's a youtube link!

also yea my username is in reference to the cereal because i love cheerios i eat them just about every morning lol :3

[ryunumber]

Jimbo (Balatro)?

Jimbo has a Ryu Number of 3/does not have a Ryu Number.

(CORRECTION: Per multiple people, a Balatro crossover update for Don't Starve Together may give Jimbo a Ryu Number.)

(explanation below)

I don't have exact numbers, but I believe Jimbo is the character I've gotten the most requests to find a Ryu Number for since starting the blog, so I think this warrants going a bit more in-depth than normal.

First, I'm going to establish that Jimbo himself is a talking card. More specifically, he is both the literal Joker card that gives you a flat +4 Mult and the talking Joker card that gives you the tutorial and quips about the outcome of your run.

He seems to be unique in this regard; no other card in Balatro talks to you in this way, so while it is possible to obtain multiple copies of any Joker in-game, this flourish is a major defining characteristic of specifically Jimbo.

Next, there's the matter of the "Friends of Jimbo" crossover face card variants. As of the time of this post, there have been 6 Friends of Jimbo updates for a total of 24 properties represented by face cards of certain suits.

I would think that a cursory glance at the rules would make this clear, but I'll state it explicitly: these are not valid appearances by any definition of the existing ruleset. The characters are depicted on literal cards. For this blog's purposes, they have no relevance.

This means that Jimbo is essentially the only character in Balatro at the moment, so the game itself cannot be used for any links.

So has Jimbo been in any other games?

I'm aware of two games that reciprocated the Friends of Jimbo crossover with content updates. The first game is Dave the Diver, whose developers took the wild yet undeniably idiosyncratic move of... just straight up implementing Balatro at a smaller scale as a minigame.

It is called Jimbo's Game, and you can get a copy of the plain Joker that Jimbo ostensibly is, but I don't believe Jimbo ever actually speaks at any point in Dave the Diver, which as stated previously is the one characteristic that really makes Jimbo unique, so I'm not inclined to count the Joker card as an eligible Jimbo appearance.

The second game is Cyberpunk 2077, which gives you a small fetch quest to find Joker cards to get some Balatro-themed cosmetics. The questgiver in question is a fellow named... Jim B.

So no dice there either.

While this is it for reciprocal crossovers, there is one additional appearance I'm aware of: Dungeons & Degenerate Gamblers.

Unlike in Dave the Diver, Jimbo does actually talk in this game, so while you can get multiple copies of Jimbo, I'm willing to overlook that as a mechanical trapping of deckbuilders.

As for whether you can go anywhere from Dungeons & Degenerate Gamblers is... fraught. No other cards talk like Jimbo or have any other characteristic that suggests they're more than a simple playing card. The actual characters you go up against in the rounds themselves are a bit complicated. There's a couple of opponents in the later acts that resemble classical monsters, but the theming and titles they're given makes saying that they're the singular classical monster in question a bit more of a leap than I'm comfortable with.

There are also opponents that are pretty undeniable references, but there aren't any that I'm so willing to go out on a limb and say actually are the characters or people they reference.

The Actor, for instance, is clearly based on Picard from TNG, but "Actor" suggests that it's not Picard but Patrick Stewart, and I'm not aware of any eligible Stewart appearances in video games.

(There's also an Alucard, but if he's any specific Alucard, he's Alucard from the Son of Dracula movie, which isn't a lot to work with.)

I'd say the closest thing to a slam dunk in this regard is the titular Rain Man, but unsurprisingly, that doesn't give a lot of options.

So if there is a route for Jimbo as of the time of this post (and you might still believe there is one), it's probably through Dungeons & Degenerate Gamblers, and while it wouldn't be as unambiguous as I'd feel comfortable posting, it would probably be at least defensible.

(The actual takeaway you should have is that the Friends of Jimbo crossovers are emphatically irrelevant to this blog, and if you bring them up I will personally modify your copy of the game to remove every deck except the Abandoned Deck.)

(I know it's a good deck, it's about the principle of the matter.)

[sundrop-writes]

Meddle About

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.

It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .

Summary:

You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.

Reid vastly overthinks it.

So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.

Word Count: 6,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.

A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work. 

You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life. 

But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation. 

Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you. 

But you weren’t needed on that front today. 

No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated. 

The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer. 

He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks. 

You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next. 

Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving. 

After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target. 

(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.) 

You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it. 

Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information. 

“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap. 

When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else. 

“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position. 

It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.) 

Speaking of which: 

“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation. 

“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” 

You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously. 

“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.” 

Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way. 

Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.

“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics. 

“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console. 

Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation. 

“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply. 

He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback. 

You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off. 

… 

You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes. 

So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves). 

He was being far too quiet for your liking. 

But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was. 

You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all. 

“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. 

“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said. 

Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him. 

Spencer felt the need to further explain himself. 

“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his. 

You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you. 

Again, you found it so utterly adorable. 

“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road. 

You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off. 

For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid. 

(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.) 

“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.” 

Reid let out a choked-off noise at this. 

You continued. 

“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.” 

“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him. 

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. 

Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got. 

Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance. 

This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore. 

“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!” 

Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment. 

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting. 

…

Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you. 

When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him. 

“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear. 

Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview. 

He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car. 

“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off. 

“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out. 

But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault. 

… 

The ex-wife didn’t know much. 

She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years. 

She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back. 

Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused. 

He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood. 

But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one. 

(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.) 

… 

Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help. 

So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 

By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do. 

… 

Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car. 

“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car. 

“Your room key?” 

You suppressed another grin. 

“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” 

You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle. 

“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves. 

Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you. 

His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed. 

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together. 

And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin. 

He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it. 

He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head. 

He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes. 

Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words. 

“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-” 

“I don’t think it was stupid.” 

You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking. 

“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.” 

Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain. 

A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric. 

Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore. 

That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second. 

It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve. 

“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?” 

You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited. 

He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was). 

All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound. 

“Nngh.” 

It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy. 

You giggled quietly. 

“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain. 

His mind was racing, chanting out: 

‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’ 

But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was: 

“Please.” 

“Good boy.” You sighed. 

You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second. 

It was cute, to say the least. 

You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed. 

“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.” 

You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins. 

He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him. 

If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now. 

His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples. 

“Here, come on, baby.” 

You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it. 

Truthfully, he did get something out of this. 

It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet. 

He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling. 

In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears. 

“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.” 

Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits. 

Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence. 

It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more. 

(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.) 

You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh. 

“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest. 

You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically. 

“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.” 

The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too. 

He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint. 

“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.” 

Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up. 

You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.” 

These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.

His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him. 

You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load. 

Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath. 

Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest. 

But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.) 

You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that. 

You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly. 

“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants. 

“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked. 

You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum. 

“So pretty baby.” 

He only whined in response. 

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him. 

You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him. 

“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked. 

You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again. 

‘You said that you only wanted to look.’ 

The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop. 

“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.” 

“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.” 

He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby?” 

“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.” 

He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock. 

Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears. 

But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again. 

“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?” 

Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy. 

He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop. 

You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.

You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix. 

He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth. 

…

The next morning, Spencer felt hungover. 

He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team. 

You came back with a small grin on your face. 

“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.” 

Spencer nodded. “That’s good.” 

When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist. 

“That’s enough, baby.” You told him. 

His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again. 

“Yes, Mommy.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!

[artbyblastweave]

you talking about how rorschach veers into comedy reminds me how out of costume he asked for a copy of the new frontiersman from a newspaper vdndor and then turns around asking the guy not to forget which causes him to spit take.

Right, legitimately, this is a major element of what I was talking about regarding Rorschach's sense of humor- not just this specific interaction with Bernie, but Rorschach's entire secret identity.

In Issue 6, we learn that Rorschach is explicitly an atheist. He doesn't believe in signs or portents- he views things like reading into a two-headed-cat as purely a function of human meaning-making- and while he strongly suspects that the world is going to end, everyone paying attention also thinks that, and that it'll end for completely mundane reasons. (Refer to Detective Fine's aside in issue 5 that Russian tanks in Afghanistan are a much more concrete portent of war than anything astrological.) Before the world ends at human hands, Rorschach is resolute in his belief that nothing is hopeless while there's still life- living for tomorrow despite the threat of the world ending today- and he's pretending to be a guy who behaves as though he believes exactly that, but in a way that makes him come across as a hypocritical, thoughtless loon unaware of the contradictions in what he's saying, not worth taking seriously. He's LARPing as a guy who's got basically his exact opposite outlook and response to the state of the world. He thinks he's so fuckin' funny.

Viewed through this lens provided by issue 6, this "Today for sure. Keep my paper for tomorrow?" exchange is recontextualized as some combination of him being dryly ironic for his own amusement, him LARPing as the kind of whack-job who would sincerely say something like that with no self-awareness, and having a laugh at Bernie's expense for falling for it. And the jumpscare at the end can support any of those readings. He interacts with Bernie constantly, he knows Bernie won't forget, he knows how big a part of Bernie's self-image is his own reliability as a newsseller- so it's ambiguous why he's doing this thing that he's clearly using his cultivated Rorschach stealth skills to pull off. He could be trying to shore up his impression as a weirdo neurotic. He could get a kick out messing with Bernie- he clearly gets a kick out of terrorizing Moloch with the fridge ambush and the subsequent fakeout, his fondest memory is of ambushing the Underboss. His mind goes to these places. And he could also just seriously be this obsessed with securing his copy of the New Frontiersman- he holds the paper in terminally high regard, so maybe this is an element of his real self shining through! You are, on some level, what you pretend to be.

One of Watchmen's recurring themes is that superheroes are on multiple levels a joke. Comedian identifies their efforts as a joke in the face of the real horrors of geopolitics, and Nite Owl identifies their efforts as a joke in the sense of being comical overkill in the context of the street crime that they're ostensibly good at addressing. Laurie thinks that the melodrama shaping the course of her career makes her a joke, and Ozymandias's big plan for saving the world involves the largest practical joke in human history. But on another level, there's an element of humor intrinsic to the concept of the secret identity- a practical joke played on the world at large, pretending to be someone wildly different from yourself so that nobody suspects what you're really capable of. Nobody thinks that Klutzy Clark Kent is Superman, nobody thinks dizty Bruce Wayne could be Batman, and nobody thinks nebbish Peter Parker could be Spider-Man. Rorschach is, notably, the only one of the second wave of heroes who successfully embraces that element of contradiction in disguising his identity. The rest don't have one to begin with, or had a fortune with which to protect theirs, or had government backing with which to protect theirs, and Dan just gets flat out made by the cops the exact second he sticks his head up in costume. Rorschach's joke is working, and it works because it's a joke- nobody, including the audience, picks up on who he is until the entire thing is taken apart from the other end when he's captured in costume.

On every level, Rorschach is the book's idea of the uncompromised vision of the figure of a superhero, and you can't be a superhero if you don't have a sense of humor with which to crack one-liners. You can't be a superhero unless you spend a substantial amount of your time and talent playing head games with your loved ones and with the press.

[theotterpenguin]

the performative accusation that shipping zutara (and occasionally this criticism is levied at jinko/zukka) is colonialist apologism has been addressed in some excellent posts, explaining the inaccuracies and problematic implications of this logic far better than i ever could - like this post and this one and this one and this one and this one.

and i know this topic has been talked about to death, but if you could indulge my contribution for a moment, i just find it interesting how this sentiment results from the cognitive dissonance of atla fans being unable to reconcile with the idea of their favorite show's political beliefs not lining up with their own.

atla is a largely philosophical children's show that at its core deals with themes of love, redemption, and destiny vs. free-will. atla examines these themes through an anti-colonalist, anti-imperalist lens that deconstructs the idea of racial divisiveness and the idea that people of different ethnicities are inherently different. this is message is pretty explicitly stated by guru pathik:

Guru Pathik: "The greatest illusion of this world is the illusion of separation. Things you think are separate and different are actually one and the same." Aang: "Like the four nations?" Guru Pathik: "Yes. We are all one people. But we live as if divided."

and also by uncle iroh:

"It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others, the other elements and the other nations will help you become whole."

this theme is developed across three full seasons, with the crux of this message culminating in zuko's friendships with the gaang - despite coming from different nationalities and different backgrounds, they have all had their own experiences being hurt by the fire nation and work together to take down the oppressive fire nation government. the question of destiny vs. free will is also explored through zuko's character - despite starting off as an antagonist, he develops into a symbolic representation of how the fire nation's oppression hurts its own citizens. he unlearns the fire nation's imperialist propaganda while simultaneously unlearning his father's abuse. rather than following misguided beliefs of what he thought his destiny was as the heir to the throne, instead he forges his own path.

thus, to claim that zuko can never form a deep and meaningful relationship with any of the gaang because of his nationality goes unequivocally against the themes of the show. and a major part of this is because these are fictional characters being used to analyze different theoretical questions within the show and in some cases, are used as symbolic representations of different philosophical ideas - their friendships and their character arcs serve a purpose within the text that cannot be easily transcribed onto real-life dynamics between people.

it's illogical to criticize fans who are choosing to understand atla at the level of the themes that are presented by the text - who are interested in exploring similar philosophical questions brought up by the show through the context of relationships.

if you don't like the themes of forgiveness and redemption that atla explores, your criticism should be aimed at the writing of the show itself rather than other fans. because you are giving far more thought to the "implications" of a close friendship or romantic relationship between someone from an imperalist nation and someone from an oppressed nation than the writers ever did. (and if you fall in this camp of people, i would hope you wouldn't be reblogging fanart of zuko and the gaang together while simultaneously claiming zuko could can never escape the sins of his ancestors and can never form a deep relationship based on trust and intimacy with katara or sokka or jin - because that would just be hypocritical).

and as a side note, people seem to apply this flawed logic to zutara far more than other ships solely because the show spends the most time exploring the complicated nature of fire nation imperalism in the interactions between zuko and katara in the latter half of b3. this is because they've been juxtapositioned against each other and paralleled with aang since the beginning of the show in ways that toph, sokka, and suki are not, who have mostly been used to examine different themes. there simply isn't enough time to explore these complicated themes with all the other characters, even if they theoretically exist in zuko’s dynamics with these characters, so the writers focus the most on zuko's relationships with katara and aang, and these relationships are given far more narrative weight, so have more content to criticize. but zuko and katara also canonically become friends by the end of the show. if you want to discount the existence of their friendship, claiming that it will always be tainted by the fire nation's oppression regardless of what is shown in the text, then you also have to discount zuko's friendships with aang, suki, toph, and sokka - because even if this isn't shown as a permanent barrier to their friendships in the show, it’s also not shown as a permanent barrier to his friendship with katara. if your logic is solely based on the idea that a person's identity in a relationship as a colonizer or a victim is fixed and unchanging regardless of character development, this would apply to zuko's friendships with everyone else as well.

[soleilnewspaper]

First tattoo

Synopsis: You’ve always wanted to get a tattoo but you are absolutely terrified of needles. Luckily you have not one but two boyfriends to talk you through it.

Pairing: poly!wolfstar x reader

Warnings: fear of needles, crying, comfort, suggestive themes (nothing is explicitly stated.)

Word count: 1.6k

AN: I’m still quite ill but I do plan to release more parts of my poly!Wolfstar series once I’m better. If you enjoy this, please do all the tumblr things; reblog, like and comment.

Dividers: @Strangergraphics

It’s a little embarrassing to be honest, how you, a grown adult still have a fear of needles. An intense one at that.

Most people grow out of their childhood fears. They’re replaced by the demands of adulthood instead. Bills, taxes, rent, food and countless other things that you have to deal with as an adult.

You still share all these concerns yourself, every other adult would. However, you unlike every other adult does not almost throw a tantrum at the doctor’s office you get blood tests.

Luckily in the wizardly world, a verse majority the medical field is built on magic. Something which could be viewed as both an advantage and disadvantage depending on who you ask.

Despite being in this world for over a decade and having attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your muggle mother still feels more at ease when you have checkups at the family doctor.

Your intense fear hadn’t affected you greatly in your life, not untill recently anyway.

Sirius, one of your boyfriends officially got his tattoo license a few months back and the desire for him to give you one is growing by the day.

Remus, your other boyfriend, too has a few tattoos here and there. Not nearly as many as Sirius, and his are often hidden under sweaters and long pants.

Currently, he was in the process of acquiring a new tattoo. Remus lay back down on the leather seat, with his lower abdomen exposed. One of his trusty sweaters lifted to give Sirius the access he needs to work.

The cold air nips at his skin, and he arches his back slightly to make himself more comfortable. A task seemly easy, yet difficult for the tall lanky werewolf in such a small chair.

Straddling his hips, your other boyfriend smirks down at him as he works. His long black hair pulled into a makeshift ponytail in an attempt to be professional. You hardly see how keeping a level of professionesness is needed when he’s already straddling Remus as is.

You’ve been watching the interaction for a while now, sat in the same spot on the leather couch since they started. Happily multitasking between reading the book Remus burrowed you and watching the two while Sirius tattoos him. The only sounds leaving your lips for a while were a few giggles and smiles at the notes Remus had left in the margins for you.

Feeling a sudden sense of boldness, you put down the book on the table next to you. Neither one of the boys look up, far too engrossed in their own business.

Your shared doc martens press against the floor as you walk over to the two. Pulling up the closest available chair in order to sit next to Sirius who is still focused on Remus.

Upon seeing you, a warm smile immediately finds Remus’s face. “Did you already finish the book, dove?” He asked while stretching his arms above his head leaving more of his torso exposed. The mere act sends chills through your body.

“Or maybe you just wanted to watch.” Sirius’s eyes remained on Remus’s lower torso to avoid messing up. “Hmm, dollface.” He mumbled with a tone that made you practically hear the smirk you knew was on his face.

“Well, nothin’ wrong with that.” Remus extended his arm towards you, his fingers finding your smaller one’s.

“I want one.” You stated in a high pitched sound. Causing both boys to look at you.

“Hmm, what’s that, darling?” Remus hummed his eyes closed as he felt Sirius lit the needle from his skin to stop and look at you.

“A tattoo.” Once the words left your mouth, both your boyfriends turned to fully face you. Trying to see if you were just pulling their leg or not. After they had deduced that you were serious about this, they finally spoke.

“You sure you’re up for it, bunny?” Remus cooed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. Both of them knowing how much you hate needles or sharp objects in general.

A few moments of thinking, and you promptly nodded your head to indicate your answer.

“Come on, Rem, she’s tougher than she looks.” The dark haired boy exchanged a look with the sandy brunette one.

“Fine, but only if you are completely sure. I don’t want you to do something your regret or that will make you feel uncomfortable or worse, scared.” Remus sat up to get a better look at you, resting on his elbows.

For months now, you’d watched Sirius tattoo people in this chair. Hell, you’d even seen your shared boyfriend be given a few by Sirius. Yet, you couldn’t stop the nerves pulsing through your veins when Sirius cleaned the needle.

On your left side, sat on a very uncomfortable bar stool was your second boyfriend. Remus rubbed small circles on the palms of your hands with his fingers in soothing motions.

Sirius walked over to the two of you, and took a seat in front of you. The needle right there in his hands. Staring at you. You tried to be brave, really you did.

Only a mere few minutes into the tattoo session and you broke. The second you felt the needle dig deeper into your skin, it was over.

Tears pulled in your irises and you dug your nails deep within Remus’s palms. You tried to keep the tears at bay, but when your boyfriend pressed the needle a little more. You became a flood gate.

Your tears quickly turned into sobs, and your breath began to hitch. Hearing you, Sirius immediately took away the needle laying it down on the nearby table.

Remus stood up from his stool to get a better look at you. Towering over you, he lifted your chin with the tip of his index finger. His beautiful honey brown staring down at you.

“Hey, hey, hey, dove, talk to us.” He cooed, his heart breaking at the sight of your tears. Sirius exchanging a look with him.

Sirius sat down on the chair next to squishing you slightly until he found a comfortable position. Once he did, he began to lightly stroke your check. “Why didn’t you say something, darling?”

“I-I-I-did-didn’t-wa-want-“ Before you could manage to get out your sentence already feeling like a child and hating it.

“Shh, deep breathes, baby.” Remus cooed once again. Pulling you to his chest. Your tears began to flow into his sweater.

Sirius moved to hug you from behind, the boys finding a way to sandwich you into a hug. Despite their awkward positions. With Remus standing and Sirius squished into the chair next to you.

“I want this.” You lay your head on Remus’s torso, looking up at him. Finding nothing but love in his eyes.

“You sure, dove, because it-“

“I do, really, I do.”

“Dollface, you know you don’t have to do it just because we have them.” Sirius stroked the back of your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

“That’s not why I’m doing this.”

A long sigh escaped Remus’s lips before he cupped your face with his large hands. “Well, then we’re goin’ need to find a way to make this work, huh?”

You simply hooded in return, your tears beginning to dry up replaced by a smile.

Remus and Sirius continued to console you untill you had reached a sense of relief. Which didn’t take long with both boys by your side.

Later, clearing the place out. You finally got your tattoo.

The city lights of London shone through the thin blinds of Sirius’s tattoo shop. He had sent the rest of his clients and staff home. Leaving only the three of you. It made it easier for you, when there weren’t too many people surrounding you.

Towards the back of the shop, the three of you found your way to Sirius’s office. The place was organised chaos as he liked to call it.

You lay back on the red leather couch, with your chosen tattoo area exposed. Remus sat right next to you. His arm draped around your shoulder, pulling you closer to squeeze you every now and then. Sirius remained focused the entire time but he exchanged looks with Moony as a silent ask for how you were doing. Stopping a few times when you had given him any kind of indication that you were in pain.

“Sorry for being a big baby, earlier.” Your voice was muffed in Remus’s sweater.

“Pardon?” Remus smirked, leaning closer to you knowing full well he heard you.

“Don’t you dare make me repeat it.” You sent death daggers at him. Which only caused him to pull you closer.

“Alright, love, I’d say you’re good to go.” Sirius turned off the tattoo machine and placed it back in its home. Removing the gloves from his hands and letting his hair loose.

“Wait, what, just like that?” You were shocked that hours had gone by and you hadn’t even noticed.

“Guess you just needed the right setting.” Remus spoke gently tucking a stray piece of hair away from your face.

“More like I needed your undivided attention.” You snickered.

“Please, we all know you have us wrapped around your fingers.” Sirius fell back onto the leather couch with a this. “Beautiful. Gorgeous. Hot.” He said in between kisses.

“Please tell me you aren’t still talking about my fingers.”

“What do you think?” Sirius smirked down at you. Whilst Remus threw his head back against the couch.

“I think you’re both going have to call in sick to work tomorrow.” You said in a low seductive tone while dragging your fingers up Sirius’s neck.

“What will you have us do, love?” Remus breath was felt against your ear.

“I think you know.”

[conflictofthemind]

I can't answer a lot of asks I'm getting about my / your opinions on this leak because y'all are putting the leak right in the ask itself and I don't want to jumpscare anyone with possibly series defining spoilers!

However my opinion and analysis is as follows!

I agree that this makes whatever they're doing with the WillElMike love triangle messy as all hell. This is going to require some heavy lifting on the writing to not give off the impression that Will is, as so astutely put, "sloppy seconds". It changes the game a bit on my opinions of Mike's sexuality. I'm neither a gay or bi Mike truther because both interpretations feel equally valid to me. But now as to not invoke the previously mentioned trope, I think they'll have to explicitly make him gay and frame his relationship to El as comphet and a possessiveness resulting from trauma.

If I disregard the handling of the romantic aspects though, my possibly controversial opinion is that this ending makes total sense to the themes of the show. Some of the show's main themes are about childhood, nostalgia, and growing up. That's also what Spielberg was trying to do with ET.

ET is based on an imaginary friend he created as a child to shield himself from the trauma of his parent's divorce. EL magically appears to Mike to provide hope and shield him from the trauma of his best friend's disappearance (and his looming feelings for him).

Mike can't let go of her because then he'd actually have to face his trauma, his grief, his fears, his queerness. She's been his safety net for seasons and she's fought his battles for him. He finally starts to feel like something's wrong in Season 4. Mike becomes a very inactive character throughout this all and then having to rely later on Lucas and Will to help fix his growing relationship issues, so he can continue relying on her. All of it completely antithetical to him being a leader and you can see the degradation of character that has happened. Leaders don't rely on people, they are the reliable ones.

Not to mention Hopper's grief and experience with Sara never being something he could get over, and still isn't over to this day. He is controlling over El in Season 3 because of his helplessness over Sara. He's barely healed the wound - just put a bandage over it with the introduction of another daughter that he can use to ignore his grief. In accepting El's death (or departure), he accepts Sara's and finally moves on. Is it sad? Yes. Is it a lot more relatable to an audience of people who have lost loved ones and never gotten the chance to have a figurative replacement show up at their door and heal the wound for them? Yes. But through it all he has still found love and a family.

For a brief segue into Max, she's never really relied on El. You can see the contrast where Max directly opposes Hop/Mike and encourages El to make her own decisions. Max is more of a mentor figure to El. She's strong on her own right. It would be devastating to her regardless but has a lot less to do with her individual character arc.

I have thought this forever and have not been able to say it because of people who will accuse me of misogyny. As if I am not a lesbian feminist who runs a himejoshi (femslash) blog, almost exclusively stans female characters and has a vast majority female friend group but my opinions on El are just because she's a woman. But this is my honest to god interpretation of the work and if all fits what we are seeing plus the stated inspirations for the show?

[laughtalelogs]

In the Shadows of Buffalo Bay - Prologue

word count: 1.5k+

Zoro x afab!Reader x Sanji, cowgirl!reader no use of y/n, no beta reader, all my reader characters are black even if not explicitly stated. if that's not ur jam, then don’t read!

Rating: M (smut will be in future chapters, labelled as Explicit.)

Warnings: themes of alcohol, drug use, smoking, mental health issues, implications of self-harm, and violence to come.

Summary: Right after the Straw Hats leave the land of Wano; they land on Buffalo Bay, a gourmet cattle island known for its famous fairs, cowboys, and food. What they find is a dusty town, ruled by a sheriff with more secrets than she lets on. When she challenges the swordsman and seduces the cook, they both can't help but wonder: what is she hiding? And how will her past, entwined with the island's dark history, affect their crew? cross-posted to ao3 @laughtalelogs

Special thanks to @sigilsmut for giving me major inspiration with his OC, Honeko. Please check them out, they’re both pretty neat!

chapter Index- prologue (you are here!), ch.1

Prologue: Darek Red

Prrr. Prrr. Prrr. Cu-lick.

“It’s been quite a while since you’ve called, are you sure about this?”

“Quite. They made it clear it would be utterly careless not to. Expected arrival time is at sunrise. No messes, you hear?”

“Clear as day, sir. Considering the walk in the park you just gave me, should I leave the ‘Thank You’ note with them, or should I save that for when you decide to ring again?”

“Focus. Stick to the plan. And it wouldn’t hurt to remember our deal.”

Cu-lick.

“Great.”

Zoro stirred from his slumber as soon as he heard the laugh of his captain. Was it already time for Brook to take his shift? Did he sleep through breakfast? He didn’t feel the sun on him just yet. He shrugged it off. If there was danger, he’d know, no doubt. He allowed his shoulders to relax as sleep absorbed him once more.

Until suddenly, “Now, Usopp, Chopper!”

The floor shifted, he shot back, the air in his lungs suddenly slammed out of him as his head struck the glass of the crow’s nest. His eye shot open, but his vision swam, followed by a thrumming on the base of his skull. He quickly grabbed his swords that slid under the bench from the change of position, scoping his surroundings. 

Of course, when his guard was down, something would happen to the ship. He ignored the way his vision blurred to turn around and scan the ship through the glass beneath him. He saw a familiar straw hat from a distance and loosened the tight grip of his blades. At least someone was out there.

What he still was trying to figure out was why in the hell was Luffy at the helm? Zoro ran to the hatch. He angled himself down the ladder and tightened his grip as he quickly realized they were soaring through the sky. 

“What the fuck is happening?!” He shouted over the whipping wind, watching Luffy let go of the wheel to stand on the now horizontal mast.

  He just laughed and held onto his hat, his standard goofy grin shined in the moonlight.  “We’re going to the city of meat, duh!”

“You idiot!” Zoro yelled. “We were going to be there in the morning!” His warning fell on deaf ears. Luffy, who was singing and dancing about meat, was too busy to care. He hoped everyone else was safe.

He already had a bad feeling about the poster they’d found on the ghost ship yesterday. The rest of the crew, however, seemed unfazed. Nami had determined from her Log Pose that they’d reach the island by sunrise, and everyone was eager for a break after the war they’d just endured. But, of course, Luffy’s hunger had to ruin that plan.

He glanced around while his thoughts wandered for a brief and unwelcomed moment.

Where was the damn cook? His face soured, trying to force the thought down as soon as it came. He’s probably clinging onto his bed in the men’s quarters like an idiot, he thought again, but the idea of Sanji flying overboard refused to leave his mind. 

“He’ll survive just in spite of me thinking that,” He humored, muttering under his breath to himself, the usual bite in his tone gone. Still, he scanned the doors for a mop of blonde hair that he wouldn’t admit he waited to appear. If he had half the brain Zoro thought he had, he’s probably helping the others. 

Now, Zoro was stuck there, gripping the rope ladder as he tried to make sense of the chaos. Over Luffy’s shoulder, he caught glimpses of the dark horizon. The Sunny pitched forward sharply, teetering above the sea before nose diving toward land. Zoro was relaxed as ever—if relaxed meant cursing under his breath and bracing for impact.

“Hold o-” Zoro’s warnings were cut off as the ship slammed into hard dirt, skidding like a rock skipping across a pond. Zoro jostled against the rope ladder with each impact, gritting his teeth. The hull screeched. Luffy was laughing, because of course this was absolutely hilarious to him, as he swung on a stretched arm. A chorus of startled yelling joined the ship’s groaning protests, the crew must have been rudely woken up just like him. 

Finally, they stopped. The wood wheezed underneath them, the pitch black enveloping them on all sides. 

“That was awesome!” Luffy’s cackle echoed off into the dark night as he dropped from the mast back onto the grassy deck. “Did you see that Zoro?!” 

He did more than see it, he thought. He drops from the rope onto the deck. He went to reply, but heard doors slamming open and shut, followed by multiple yells for the same person.

“LUFFY!”

Everyone clambered in, one after another. Jinbei carried Brook’s head, while Franky angrily dragged the other two culprits with him. Behind them, Zoro sees a shock of blonde, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. He scratched the back of his head and rolled his shoulders, as if his previous worries would fall off of them. Adrenaline is still pumped through his veins under hot skin, cooled off by the night’s air. 

“Morning everyone!” Luffy said excitedly, smile stretched so wide Zoro wouldn’t be surprised if his face stayed like that. “We’re here! Good work, Usopp and Chopper!”

“I can’t believe I let him talk me into this..” Usopp groaned and whimpered under the tight grip Franky held his waist in, and Chopper gasped for air. 

  “Too tight, too tight!” He clawed at the large hand with his hooves to no avail.

Nami was already tearing Luffy a new one, and Franky was following suit. Even Jinbei had a look of dismay, while Brook was steadily complaining in his palm.

“You can’t believe it,” Franky says through his teeth, dropping the two to the floor. “I can’t believe all the work I’m going to have to do on the Sunny because of you 3, this is not super, bros.” 

“I’m thinking we should’ve kept him in the cage,” Sanji muttered as he let go of Nami and set down robin on the deck. 

“I agree with you Sanji,” Nami bellowed as she charged past Zoro, and pinched hard on Luffy’s cheek. “I don’t think he learned his lesson from the waterfall, after all,” 

Luffy whined halfheartedly like a child. “Ow- I’m really sorry, Nami.. I was just hungry, ya know!”

“When you’re hungry, you wake up Sanji. You don’t crash the ship into land in the middle of the night!” She screamed, and it ringed in Zoro's ears, the sharp pain in his head roared to life. He winced and rubbed the back of his head again. It didn't surprise him when he removed his hand that he saw smudges of red on his finger tips.

“Why didn’t you stop him?” He felt a gentle kick at his shin, turning to see Sanji staring at him. He had dark circles underneath his wide, tired eyes that bore straight through Zoro. The blond hair that covered his face illuminated with the light of his lighter. The flame flickered to life as he scanned around, taking in their surroundings. “What happened to keeping watch?"

  Zoro rolled his eyes, “I keep watch against threats, not our own crew. Besides, how was I supposed to know what he was going to do, curly?” He really wasn’t in the mood to fight with the bastard, especially not this early in the morning. He watches Sanjis eyes look at him, squinting like he could see through him, his eyes lingering on the hand Zoro had rubbed his head with. Zoro wipes his hand on the back of his pants, shrugging it off like he already knew what Sanji would say next. They remain silent, but everything in Sanji’s eyes looks like they’re begging a question. Zoro chest tightens as he bit back the pain in his head and heart.

“I’m fine, Cook. Nothing happened,” Is all he gives, turning away to look at the rest of the crew. "Drop it."

“I didn’t say a thing, Moss,” Is all he says in response, lighting a new cigarette as he listened to the crew begin to brainstorm a plan of action.

After a moment of arguing and tired deliberation, All adventures to the mysterious Buffalo Bay were cut off for the night. Even with Luffy’s master plan, they had no choice but to wait until sunrise with how dark it was. Even with Franky’s freak ass lights, they could only see dirt and grass for what seemed to stretch on for forever. Robin questioned if there was any land of meat at all, and the fact they were stranded settled amongst the group in a grim veil.

So much for a tourist destination, he thought. He had heard enough of the plan. He walked away from the group, settling on the edge of the grass to rest his aching head. As sleep began to overtake him as he droned out the sounds of his friends talking, he couldn’t help but to feel a pit in the bottom of his stomach. It was small, but large enough to annoy him and eat away at his steeled nerves. Something was really off about this island. As sleep washed over him, he could only think that that was just something he’d have to worry about later. 

A/N: AHHH finally!! I have been planning this fic in my head with multiple drafts and outlines and brainstorming for I think 2 months at this point, and finally feel pretty good about how to started this off.

I hope you enjoyed the prequel! I have the chapter one 75% done, I just need to edit it some more but expect it some time 11/28 at night. I hope to have it up and chapter two by Sunday! The next chapter will introduce the reader, i promise! also, future chapters will switch between perspectives. This will be a slow burn so stick around if you wanna see how it plays out! Feedback, love, and criticism is much appreciated ♡

[ludinusdaleth]

A List of C3 Foreshadowing in Critical Role

when c3 was airing, a primary criticism was that its plot points about the gods, vasselheim, a second calamity, and similar ideas seemed to come out of nowhere, but when i watched the past campaigns, i felt i recalled quite a few examples of the opposite. i decided to start this compilation upon my rewatch to help aid the meta and highlight foreshadowing i definitely noticed. a few notes before i start:

-as my intention is to prove these themes were present pre c3, this will include quotes from any canon game pre c3. this means c1, c2, & exu prime; i will also include calamity as it is technically a precursor to what c3 covers and aired before the apogee solstice.

-matt said he did not explicitly consider the emotional toll of the gods' actions during the calamity until c2. so any god-related lore example i pull from c1 was likely not directly intended as a questioning of the entire pantheon's morals. however, as many things that happen in c1 were scrutinized by some fans pre-c3, and are pulled directly into c3 and addressed, i will add them. it is more than likely matt did intend hints to a second calamity, however, as matt has discussed in interviews since c1 that he wanted a big crossover and major final threat.

-i will not be including all crises of faith or character opinions on the gods unless they directly feed into c3's themes, as those are personal to the pcs and dont contribute to the argument except to clarify folk have differing beliefs. i also wont include all foreshadowing ever made because it's not all relevant to my point.

-you dont have to interpret these exactly as i do and you dont have to feel the same way about c3 as i do. this is just a post proving that elements of c3 always existed before when common meta arguments explicitly state otherwise.

-lets just get the big one out of the way, with the raven queen & vax. you can interpret their relationship any way you wish; it is clear that vax holds incredible respect for her by the end and has accepted his duty under her. in a way there is love there, a queen and her knight. i personally do not think their deals are all that unfair. but people have debated their relationship forever, and it is worth noting in campaign 3 episode 121 "a new age begins", that the raven queen outright says she "held [vax] as my own greedily for too long". so lets read them within the context of how the raven queen ultimately views their dynamic. in campaign 1 episode 45, "those who walk away...", after vax makes his deal, his symbol to sarenrae is "very heavily tarnished, and the metal itself seems to have cracked in three places"; the rq had no need to sunder his faith in another prime diety but did so anyway. she always refers to him possesively as hers - for example in in campaign 1, episode 90, "voice of the tempest", she tells vax: "you are still mine", a small comment but it adds to her own thesis. in campaign 1, episode 103, "the fate touched", she says, "perhaps you will keep me company [...] my beautiful thing". she is deeply possessive, in ways that buck the notion of impartial godhood (when folk insisted no god had humanity in old discourse) and it seems far more overreaching than a deal at times. that didnt come out of nowhere.

-in campaign 1, episode 13, "escape from the underdark", kima says that vasselheim locks away forces and forces people to forget them: "The least they could do was to seal both [Orcus] horns across the world from each other and forget that it even existed. Which worked well until recently. [...] If it couldn't be destroyed, at the very least we could convene and decide a safer place to possibly reseal it and forget. There are magical ways of forcing those of us who know how to forget." this is consistent with c3, where vasselheim at the gods behest hides knowledge of predathos/ethedok/vordo for the entire age, bringing in judicators on foreign soil to ensure that knowledge is kept hidden. the fact that kima, headstrong & independent, easily accepts this fact given her upbringing, shows how normalized it is in vasselheims society. and, in both the horn of orcus & predathos's case, it's clear sealing away and forgetting doesnt solve shit.

-vasselheim is presented as highly conservative off the bat. in campaign 1, episode 16, "to vasselheim", they get defensive and haughty at the notion vox machina having arcane magic, and they are not allowed to use it within its walls. while we obviously dont acknowledge tiberius now, when tiberius casts a spell to look gold scaled, yonn admonishes him saying "I would be mindful to not do such things so openly in the future". yonn is outwardly racist to tiberius for being red scaled since yonn is a follower of bahamut, the metallic dragon god: "I'm going to take it you don't see very many dragonborn in these parts?" "No, and frankly you're making me a bit nervous."

-in campaign 1, episode 38, "echoes of the past", gilmore states of vecna: "you have enough individuals that believe you're a god, that willpower is strong enough to keep you enduring."

-in campaign 1 episode 41, allura says, "If Vasselheim still stands, I-- knowing its history, that is one of the most fortified cities, the most fortified city in our civilization. It's endured two great wars, and has been the starting point of each cycle." the fourth age does indeed begin in vasselheim.

-vasselheim refuses to aid tal'dorei or wildemount against the chroma conclave. in campaign 1 episode 43, "return to vasselheim", vord says, among a shitton of other quotes about protecting vasselheim, that "should Vasselheim fall, I dare say all is lost" and that "It is only here that those who are the most devout could truly have the hearts and minds to guide us" while it is fine to want to support your own city, it is noted how angry vord gets when the dwendallian empire will not aid vasselheim and how they need aid from others to defend from the titan. this arrogance that only they should survive and know best leads to them invading marquet in c3.

-also in campaign 1, episode 43, "return to vasselheim", going back to that vord interaction:

vord: "It is only here that those who are the most devout could truly have the hearts and minds to guide us, Bahamut forbid, into a Fourth Age."

keyleth: "So, if this is the Third Age, does that mean the Fourth is upon us?"

vord: "i hope not."

multiple gods in the final arc share a fear of another calamity and outright say so to the bells. more on them later.

-in campaign 1 episode 54, "in the belly of the beast", keyleth says something that perfectly encapsulates what theme cr ends up embodying: "You know, as druids, I was raised to have an interesting perspective on the gods. We are taught that nature is the one true powerful force. I have yet to see a god control the sunrise and the sunset, so therefore it's hard for me to sometimes have the same faith in these gods. Personally, I believe that just because you're immortal doesn't make you infallible. These gods can be great ambassadors of their virtues and what they represent, or they can be horrible disgraces to their domains. And just because some self-proclaimed person or deity decides that they want control? Doesn't mean that they have to have control over me. Now, this does not mean that I do not respect the gods and the power that they wield, but, I mean, for the love of Sarenrae, we have seen Pike do many a powerful thing. So, therefore, I do not respect the gods any more than I respect the living people who are standing beside me at this moment. [...] Maybe this [deal with the Raven Queen] can be a fine partnership. A fine endeavor to do with her, and then once we save the world and we retire and some other young prodigies come forward to save the world again, then we can thank her for her services and move on. I don't think you will always need her. And, keep in mind, the one true thing that gives these gods their power are their worshipers. So I guess I'll let you choose what you want to be." keyleth is proven entirely right here with astounding victory; even her comment about pike is proven entirely right when she can still heal when sarenrae is gone.

-this is a bit of a stretch, and open to interpretation, but in campaign 1 episode 18, "the trial of the take", it is mentioned that "Through the blessing and touch of Melora in this district they are able to treat the land as magically fertile territory to grow." in campaign 1 episode 57 "duskmeadow" this is reinforced with "There's almost like a lush forest that curls around the outside of it that doesn't match the rest of the indigenous trees you've seen in this area of Othanzia", and of the raven queen's domain: "the downside is that the power of these glyphs that prevent undeath also prevent any actual vegetation from existing in this area as well. So all the ground that you've come across: no grass, no natural vegetation. It's just dirt and ash and dust." with the theme in c3 of the gods being a colonizing force, these things show me that the gods will twist natural order - melora is putting non indigenous plants in a new area, and the matron doesnt allow anything to grow when death is a cycle, nothing to even decompose. i may be reaching for sure, but well before c3 i noticed this and it fundamentally bothered me, and ive seen others note it too.

-in campaign 1 episode 57 "duskmeadow", the raven queen says: Without death, life has no meaning. "Finality drives change, innovation, greatness. It is the end that I bring that drives all of your gracious creations of this land to make the world better than we did, than those before me did."

-from campaign 1, episode 103, "the fate touched": "gods, as they currently exist, their worship is what sustains their importance and viability in the various planes."

-in campaign 1, episode 104, "elysium", sarenrae says, "Understand, in order for any of us to directly interfere to seal a god like we did once long ago, we would have to tear down the Divine Gate and that would release an entirely new armageddon upon your world."

-in campaign 1, episode 104, "elysium", sarenrae says of her followers, "we learn from each other."

-in campaign 1, episode 104, "elysium", sarenrae says, "but for everything great that we may have created, you continue to create far better. Our existence brings threat. We've brought two calamities before. We try and avoid a third. Whether we diminish in time or just maintain this balance, it's you, and your children, and your children's children, that hold the keys to the future of your lives, your people, your culture, and us."

-this one is more up to interpretation but i think of it often. in campaign 1 episode 105, elysium, vex sees pelor behind the sun: "you can see the faint features, the soft cheeks, the hairless head, and the bright warm eyes of he who brings the dawn". to me, this felt like a poetic proof that the gods were people behind their divinity.

-pretty much the entire vecna arc reiterates again and again, via the gods themselves at times, that mortals do not inherently need the gods anymore but the gods need them. quoteth ioun, in campaign 1 episode 106, "the endless atheneum": "We, the creators, did breathe the beauty into this world, we planted the seeds that would blossom into this incredible weave of Exandria. However, what is the purpose of the parent but to teach what they can, then set the children free? [...] We now stay to inspire, to guide, to guard the Gate, to keep the hate of ignorance we spawned in our hubris from burning away everything. The rest is up to you. We need you, perhaps, but you do not need us."

-in dalens closet, vax who has spent time in the raven queen's realm says "i am imperfect. as are the gods."

-now we're in campaign 2 territory, and references ive noted start later on. this example could be unrelated, but i note it: in campaign 2, episode 45, "the stowaway", they find a pre calamity mural of the cosmos: "one, there's no Divine Gate shown [...] You get the sense this was designed before the Divine Gate was ever created. Number two, there is an additional shape. Smaller than the rest. A tiny, ruby-like circle that floats in the Astral Sea, that is not tethered to anything, and seems to not really fit within your understanding of the cosmos." predathos, that you?

-in campaign 2, episode 60, "a turtle by any other name", kord says with such anguish, "we've all done terrible things." definitely caught my ear, that he knows wrong was done.

-throughout all the campaigns, characters wonder at breaking cycles. there are literally too many examples of this to count, but id particularly note any conversation where the m9 talk with the bright queen. for this angle, ill cite beau in campaign 2, episode 63, "intervention", explicitly saying "we can help you break the cycle" to leylas, and leylas saying it is impossible, to her eyes, to break. they can all see it even if they cant really see it. it is a function of their universe.

-in campaign 2, episodes 74, "manifold morals" & 76 "refjorged", beau & caleb meet a researcher called demid sunlash who is obsessed with ruidis. "Ruidus itself, some are believed to have been either a pre-creation, back when the elements themselves were consuming all of Exandria, but others believe may have not originally existed, may have been a creation by the Betrayer Gods and was some sort of long-running mysterious plot that was cut short during the end of the Calamity and when they were banished away. That's what I'm certainly curious about." he says there are "too many prying eyes and ears" when beau & caleb ask for information in public.

-in campaign 2, episode 89, "lingering wounds", matt says, "Mind you, based on the scrolls that had to be hustled out of Vasselheim by Obann and members of the Angel of Irons cult, you have information to at least make you think that that information is very, very, very intentionally near impossible to find." to me this is good setup for vasselheim completely concealing the two dead gods, and far more.

-let's talk about jester & artagan, what i think is c2's main thesis that fits into c3. jester's mere belief in artagan causes him to gain more power. i will not be including every single snippet, as this is brought up multiple times, but here are the strongest examples: in campaign 2, episode 94, "with great power..." artagan explicitly says "With each new faith, I could find myself, I could feel myself becoming what you believed." it becomes established more & more through the narrative that jester may be equal to/have more power than artagan; in campaign 2, episode 96, "family shatters", beau wonders this aloud, saying "i think she might be, like, more of a god than this fuckhead is"; in campaign 2, episode 107, "devoutness and dicks", artagan tells jester "whatever strength I've been giving you, it's just been more of a boost"; artagan tells jester "i trust in your power, you've proven it time and time again" in campaign 2, episode 114, "an open window"; in campaign 2 episode 124, "a walk to warmer welcomes", artagan says "you're the magic ones, silly mortals"; and in the finale, artagan outright says, "You don't need me. You never did. [...] You've proven that, how strong you are. I better give you a push here and there, lend you some of my power, but all the rest is you."

-aeor's mere existence is a massive setup to what happens in c3, and i think most of its moral arguments exist in that campaign. but we visit it and note all of it in c2. it is known that "[aeor] had wished to construct weapons or a weapon, that would be capable of perhaps even killing a god. And for a brief moment in time, both Prime and Betrayer turned an eye towards this city and brought it to ruin" (from campaign 2, episode 108, "frigid propositions"). when beau researches in campaign 2 episode 110, "dinner with the devil", she finds records that aeor "was driven by the belief that mortality-- the gift of magic to the mortal was a gift as well as a challenge by the gods to eventually show that the creations can become the creator," and says "that belief varied throughout the populace there, but those in power firmly felt that there was... there was a drive to, whether it be to save Exandria from the destruction of the coming Calamity by eliminating the Pantheon entirely, or for personally selfish reasons. There's no specific record." it's gray territory why aeorians wanted to do this, and if they did all want to, even early on. this is further hinted at in campaign 2, episode 122, "nothing ventured, nothing gained", where the writer of the somnovem journal is "pontificating about their politics, and whether they were indeed a unified people as some archivists suggest". "it suffered tumult within", confirms halas, who studied it, in campaign 2, episode 125, "the neverending day".

-there are soooo many hints to ludinus. in campaign 2 episode 48, "homeward bound", the m9 find that the cerberus assembly is studying dunamancy and how to control it, and a set of notes near the research says "I surmise [the kryn] have been learning to bend and break the threads of destiny for hundreds of years. Be this truth, I cannot imagine the Raven Queen looks down upon them favorably either, though the thought brings a laugh to my lips", which could be ludinus's notes. in campaign 2, episode 84, "titles and tattoos", oremid lets slip that "whatever Ludinus is attempting to ascertain with this beacon, is important". yussa expresses caution about ludinus's intelligence and allura is scared of him a few episodes later in campaign 2, episode 87, "punishment and politics"; in campaign 2 epiaode 109 "frigid propositions" , vess says not to trust ludinus. campaign 2 episode 115, "fetching friends & frosty secrets", dagen disagrees with him being called good people. ludinus nonstop sneers at the kryn's "religious drivel" in campaign 2, episode 88, "unwanted reunions". in the aeor arc the m9 find an aeorian ruin that ludinus & his annex is overseeing excavation of; in campaign 2, episode 119, "malice and mystery below", caduceus is told "what catches you odd and makes you feel the shiver down your spine as you climb through this tree, is the way that it's twisting, the coloration of the leaves and the branches: Very reminiscent of the Savalirwood, specifically the corrupted portions of it"; this connects ludinus to molaesmyr's corruption, he's exploring its cause.

-leylines & planes shifting are mentioned a few times vaguely in the story. i think a good implication of what they will do in c3 is in campaign one, episode 112, "dark dealings", where artagan says about him being trapped in the feywild, "Things rearrange every eon or so, and the ley lines that guide the paths shift, and I haven't been able to get back since." when the m9 finds ryn's notes in campaign 2, episode 129, "between a ball and a hot place", she suggests a lot is happening around that: "The theories on a pattern of change begin to peek through in some of the notes. A slow shift in the structure between the planes, and a possible sudden shift in the cosmic tapestry down the road. And you can see a lot of these notes, there's a combination of worry and excitement gleaned from them. This person is just pontificating about possible cosmic events down the road that could be catastrophic or very exciting and unique, remaking of the cosmos. [...] Possible change that could spell disaster or balance? Who knows? For instance, an example theory of the magnetic poles suddenly flipping earth. [...] I continue to find an aberration in my data pertaining to Exandria. A cyclical, months long, slow surge in low-level magical interference that then recedes just as slowly. Something that tangles my readings and upsets my analysis. It is too faint to identify the arcane nature at source, but I worry if this pertains to the shifting between the veils. Could be something very interesting. Something very frightening. Very wonderful. More tests are required."

-in campaign 2, episode 135, "the genesis ward", caleb finds aeorian papers that describe that "there are some books that detail elements of the study of creation, specifically creation of the Pantheon. Speaking of growing proof, from their perspective, that mortal minds and imagination gave form to the gods, not the other way around. There is elements of research regarding that and debate and papers fighting for both perspectives throughout that one particular book."

-the somnovem are definitely batshit, but they retain some sense of the past; in campaign 2 episode 138, "where there is a will..." they say that mortals face "the trials and toil of running the divine maze, under the alien minds of false gods".

-much like jester, zerxus also does not gain divine power from the pantheon. in calamity episode 1, "excelsior", it is said he "is a wielder of divine magic with no devotion to any deity to speak of. He has mastered the ability to call upon the divine simply as a champion of the people of Avalir."

-in calamity episode 1, "excelsior", purvan says, "She was one of us [mortals]. She does remember from whence she came. It is not their world any longer. Why would she not welcome us behind her?"

-in calamity episode 2, "bitterness and dread", brennan ponders, "if [the gods] have wars, if they squabble and bicker with each other, how inhuman can they be?"

-the hall of oracles in avalir is described in calamity episode 2, "bitterness and dread', as having "a connection to the divine without the use of gods"

-in calamity episode 3, "blood and shadow", loquatius says a theme of c3: "History is not true, all right? History is whatever people decide to put out into the public."

-you may dismiss zerxus as crazy, but in calamity episode 4, "fire and ruin", he hits the nail on the head saying that "[the gods] came and you shaped. you took, and you shaped, and you changed, but you didn't create a thing". and that "you are a child and you are lost. how do you not see that?"

-in calamity episode 4, "fire and ruin", evandrin says "Laerryn's vision was, from whence do the gods come? By what token do they award themselves that title, and what realms beyond could we explore"

-in calamity, we see that vespin chloras is not the wholly evil person we are taught he is throughout cr beforehand. it's a good tally in the idea that history was not taught without bias.

-in calamity episode 4, "fire and ruin", evandrin says, "I do not know whence the gods came from, but I know that you found it in your heart. I promise you, Zerxus, I will find that place. I will find the secret of how these worlds were made, and I will come and find you and bring you home." there is more acknowledgement the gods are alien, and evandrin will find their home.

-in exandria unlimited, episode 1, "the nameless ones", there's a ship called the blightstar with ruidian imagery, which contains the crown that will one day doom opal. i wouldnt say this is narrative foreshadowing entirely the way the others are but it was too important not to share

-throughout exu prime, there is heavy emphasis on the theme of power being just power, for us to decide what we wish to do with it, the theme that ends up entirely defining c3's finale. in exu episode 3, "a glorious return", gilmore says, "Now, the Spider Queen herself is dark, is evil, but the vestige is simply power and it is whatever you make it into. Power simply is." in episode 6, "the gift among the green", thrascuur tells the crown keepers "you have to decide what you will do. What you will become. And the last I will say is this: power is neither good, nor evil. it simply is." in the final exu episode, with a high history check, orym realizes (via dm narration): "It's just power, and even though this vestige was marked by the Spider Queen, it is wielded by a friend, and she can decide what she will make of it."

-in exandria unlimited episode 6, "the gift among the green", thrascuur tells the crown keepers, "The world constantly changes, and that's not the gods. That's the men that walk upon the earth, and you are those people that will change the fate of the world."

-in exandria unlimited episode 6, "the gift among the green", thrascuur tells the crown keepers, of magic: "it is undifferentiated. It is not divine. It is not something wrought by man. It is not nature. It is whatever it needs to be. It is simply power. The decision, the deciding makes it a thing." And they reach down and pick up one of the little oil lamps. "The power of this candle is nothing against the thought that I have to put it out. So what is a thought against something that turns and burns in the world? All of this place, all of Exandria, holds potential, holds energy, grabs it, takes it, makes it and gives it. But it is the decision of you reaching into a place, full and ripe, of you reaching into a place, full and ripe, and deciding to bring something into being. That is the power that some call of the gods, that some called the arcane. It is power and it is beautiful, and for you to know that, to have seen it up close."

[deusvervewrites]

Hey there Deus, thanks for recommending Otr of the Flame, while its still VERY early, I like what is there a lot already!

The fact that one of the, if not THE major theme seems to be: "Noble Death via Self-sacrifice actually not that cool." is even better, considering that this specific trope has bugged for a while, so seeing this story deliberately calling it out and deconstructing it is very refreshing!

Otr of the Flame is doing some really interesting things with the themes of Death and Learning To Live. Every chapter ties into the idea that idealizing noble sacrifice is practically suicidal ideation, but at the same time holds a deep respect for the dead and for the idea of Valhalla, with Otr even explicitly stating that he thinks even his enemies will go there.

Otr being constantly rewarded for not throwing his life away, for doing his damnedest to save lives, including his own, is fascinating. In that regard, you could almost consider it a companion piece to My Hero Academia. I'm very curious where this is going

[wosobrainiac]

Shelter

Pairing: Alessia x Leah x Pet!reader

With most of Arsenal rescuing pets, Leah and Alessia get talked into saving a traumatized pet from a shelter.

Warnings: This work includes Pet!play, and has themes of trauma and trafficking though nothing is explicitly stated. There will also be no sexual activities between the pets and the non-pets. Theres also nothing sexual in this fic. Its kinda cute if i do say so myself.

The univese is based on the Widow au universe found here

This is a side blog because I'm too nervous to post this on my actual blog. Please enjoy and let me know if you have more requests for this universe.

Alessia and Leah had never really considered getting a pet (human or otherwise) until their teammates started rescuing them. 

First was Steph and her partner, who rescued a former pleasure kitten, Bella. She was surrendered when her CEO owner upgraded to one of the newer HFeline models with upgraded sexual proclivity when he lost interest in her. 

Now she got to spend her days in a far too expensive cat tree, sunning herself and eating exotic treats from around the world. 

Next were Viv and Beth who saved an adorable pup named Lady from being a bait dog in a dog fighting ring. Caitlin and Katie soon followed with a hulking retired HK9 named Jax, who begged for scraps at every meal and was a sucker for belly rubs. Kim rescued a bunny, Peaches, from a cosmetic company and Lotte had gotten a pup of her own, Brownie, who was also a pleasurehound for a major network, rejected when he no longer drew high ratings. 

Arsenal was slowly becoming a zoo, filled with barks and purrs. Their team group chat had turned into a pet helpline filled with adorable pictures of the shenanigans 

And while Leah and Alessia had come to love the new additions to their team, the pair still had… reservations. 

Sure, the practice was widespread, and hardly considered controversial. And yes, some people willingly signed up to be pets when they turned 18. But many were surrendered due to debt, chose it over jail or were kidnapped and forced. 

It didn’t sit right with them. 

Not until they saw how their friends' pets were thriving after being treated properly. Not until they saw that they could offer the ability for pets to choose. The ability to show preference and desires and to have them honored. 

Plus, Beth and Viv had made a fair point. Rescuing a pup was different than ordering one from one of the many Labs, Tech Companies or suppliers. It meant taking someone who had been in a crappy situation and offering them a new beginning. One that would be a vast improvement. 

They could show them love, and give them dignity, something that was blatantly lacking from the pet trade. 

That’s how they ended up at a pet shelter on one of their few Saturdays days of trailing after two attendants, Kara and Lexa, as they introduced them to each pet and gave them a short description of their personalities. 

It was a nice way to do it, she thought.

It made each of the pets seem like more than just… objects. It made sure that they found the pet that fit them best. One they would click with. 

She also realized it let Kara and Lexa make sure that her and Leah would be good owners. 

Kara’s questions were subtle, asking about their jobs, the amount of time they could devote to a pet, what kind of home they lived in and what traits they valued. Lexa was more direct, point blank questioning them about what their plans were, and making sure that both of them agreed that many of the practices in both the pleasure and security sectors were despicable and not to be replicated. 

“And who is this?” Alessia asked as they moved on to the next kennel, her fingers trailing along the tall black bars that made up the space. 

Kara smiled widely, flipping the lock on the cage door and easing it open. “This is Missy,” 

She reached up to scratch behind the kitten's dark hair, as Leah followed her. 

“Hello Missy,” The blonde defender said, also reaching to pet the kitten, even as Alessia hovered by the door. 

The kitten batted at her hand, trying to catch it, earning a fond smile from the defender. “You’re a spicy one, aren’t you?”

“Missy is quite playful, and absolutely loves attention,” Kara hummed, scratching the kitten under her chin. “And cooking shows, or anything with fish on the screen really,”

“She does prefer elevated spaces,” Lexa added, gesturing toward the tower of platforms the kitten was laying on. “And will get depressed if she has to stay at ground level,” 

Alessia made a low noise, as Leah scratched gently behind the kitten’s ear, her eyes wandering down the line of kennels. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the kitten or any of the other pets they had seen, but she hadn’t felt that connection yet. 

Still, there were so many kennels left. 

It was heartbreaking how many of them were full. How many had little faces pressing against the black bars, trying to attract a potential owner? 

All except one down at the very end of the hall. 

She tilted back, trying to get a better look at what lay behind the bars, but all she could make out was a blue lump in the corner. 

She couldn’t deny the pull she felt towards the cage. 

“What about the one down there?” She asked, already stepping towards the dark metal bars at the very end of the hallway. 

A pained look crossed Kara’s face as she followed Alessia’s gaze. “She’s one of our newer arrivals,”

“Why is she all alone?” Alessia asked as they passed empty kennels on either side of the ones leading up to the one at the end of the hallway. 

“She’s having a hard time adjusting,” Kara explained, as Lexa walked in front of them. Leah trailed after them, looking much less enthusiastic. 

The tattooed handler grimaced as they got closer to the cage. “Given her circumstances, she might not be the best fit for first-time owners,”

Leah silently agreed based on the giant orange sign taped to the black bars of your area that read: 

Possibly aggressive

Two handlers are required during feeding 

“Less, what about Missy? We don’t want-” Leah suggested, catching the forward's arm. Alessia glared over her shoulder, effectively killing any further protests on her tongue. 

“The sign is just precautionary,” Kara said as they got closer, pausing at the door of the kennel. “She hasn’t been very interactive since she arrived, and we don’t have a good idea of her temperament yet,”

 “And she hasn’t seemed interested in food, or treats, so we require two handlers in case there’s a trigger there we don’t know about yet,” Lexa continued, unhooking her keys from her waistband and with a jingle. 

You pressed yourself into the far corner of the kennel at the sound, curling into a tight ball against the white bricks, and hiding your face from the group under a small blue blanket. 

Alessia couldn’t stop the coo that left her lips at the sight of your nose just barely peeking out from underneath the small blanket. 

“What’s her name?” She asked, shifting closer to the now open door, keeping her voice very soft. 

“We don’t know. Her previous owner only identified her by a number, and she hasn’t responded to any that we’ve tried,” Kara explained, her voice going very soft. “The only thing she’s liked since she got here is the blanket,”

As if you understood that they were talking about the thin fabric covering you, your fingers wound tightly on the edge like you thought they would take it away. 

All the movement did was shift the blanket to reveal more of your skin, littered with thick lines and yellowing bruises. 

“We suspect she was training to be a fighting dog and failed during one of the final checks,” Kara explained softly at their collective intake of breath. “She was in rough shape when they brought her in,”

Leah made a low noise of agreement, her eyes trailing the thick line of gauze that peeked out from the small flannel blanket you had tucked around yourself. It spanned from your too-skinny side, across your ribs, and to your back, where Leah was sure she could count each of your vertebrae.

It made her sick that someone could do this to another creature. “Final checks?”

“They put them with a bait dog to test their prey drive,” Lexa explained, easing the door to your cage open. You made no move to greet them. “From their records and the amount of titanium modifications they made, they thought she would be very… lethal,”

Leah made a low sound in the back of her throat. 

She knew about… modifications that people made to pets. The inhumane surgeries were considered upgrades. 

It made her sick that not only had you been physically abused, but you had also been surgically altered for someone else’s purposes. 

“Viv and Beth’s pup was a bait dog. She's such a tiny thing,” She murmured, thinking of how your scars mirrored those Lady bore. 

“They’re purposefully kept weak so the fighting dogs can beat them and gain confidence,” Kara said, stepping just inside the kennel and to the side so they had a clear view of you. 

Leah’s nose scrunched, thinking about how sweet and tiny Lady was, always rubbing up against legs and asking for pets and scritches. “Nasty stuff,”

“Indeed,” Kara agreed, crouching and leaning against the bars. You just curled tighter into yourself, shifting the blanket to cover more of your back. It slipped higher, revealing the thick scars on your legs just above your ankles. 

The place where your tendons had been cut to prevent you from standing on 2 legs. 

Alessia frowned, crouching next to Kara in the kennel entrance. “But she didn’t pass?”

“No. Their notes said her prey drive was too low, and unfortunately, that’s all the information we have besides the condition she was in when their compound was raided,” Lexa sighed, rubbing her forehead. “It appears that they were trying to enhance her hunting instincts with bearings and starvation,” 

Alessia hummed, stepping into the cage beside Kara and squatting so she didn’t intimidate you. 

“Hey pretty girl,” She said gently. 

You peeked up at her, blinking slowly, most of your face still hidden, meeting her blue eyes. She could see the terror in them, masked only by the deepest sense of anguish. 

She made a cooing sound. “It must be scary in here, huh?” 

A low whimper left your lips, and you shifted towards the door, and Alessia, dragging the blanket with you. 

The three women behind Alessia froze, and Lexa and Kara shared a look. 

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever seen her move,” Kara murmured, reaching into the fanny pack around her waist and pulling a small slice of sausage out. At the same time, Lexa put one hand on the spray at her hip, and gestured for Leah to get low like Alessia and Kara were with the other. 

They didn’t think you would snap, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

She followed Lexa’s instructions, kneeling and placing a gentle hand on Alessia’s shoulder. 

“Try this,” The blonde kennel attendant kept her voice low as she passed the piece to Alessia, neither of their eyes leaving your timid form. “We haven’t had much luck getting her to eat, but maybe you can,” 

She held the sausage out to you with a flat palm, and all four women held their breath as you scooted forward, and stopped, watching them with wide, terrified eyes. 

“It’s ok, sweet one,” Alessia said, her voice soft, reassuring. “You can take it,” 

You glanced from the treat to Alessia’s face and back, your nostrils going wide as you sniffed in the new scents, sliding just a bit closer to them. 

You didn’t reach for the treat, instead you ducked your head and very gently raised it to touch the back of Alessia’s hand. 

She moved slowly, taking the treat with her free hand and flipping her palm over to gently scratch your head. 

You practically melted, pressing more of your head into her hand. Her nails ran over your scalp, and a sound that was cross between a purr and a growl fell from your lips. 

Leah couldn’t hold in her little awe.

“She’s adorable,” She mumbled, inching towards you and extending a hand to join Alessia’s. She picked a spot just behind your ear, gently stroking the place where your skin and hair met. 

You paused as you registered the new sensation, your body contorting like it didn’t know if it wanted to lean in closer or pull away. 

“It’s ok. It’s just Leah. She won’t hurt you,” Alessia murmured, though she could tell you didn’t quite believe her. 

She gently nudged Leah with her free arm, a silent order to say something that wouldn’t break the tenuous truce you had developed. 

“You’re ok,” Leah murmured, gently scratching behind your ear. “Less is right, you are quite cute,”

You made a groaning sound in the back of your throat that was a mix between a grumble and a purr. 

It pulled a smile from her lips. “You don’t like being called cute?”

You made the grumbling sound again, shrugging to displace Leah’s hand behind your ear. 

The defender chuckled. “I see how it is,” 

Alessia dragged her nails more deeply against your scalp, turning your grumble purr into a straight up purr, a wide smile pulled across her lips. “I want her,”

Leah hummed in agreement. 

You were clearly attached to Alessia, and she trusted that - despite the large orange sign on your door- that you wouldn’t hurt the forward. 

You were just scared and hurt, and you deserved a chance. 

“Kara can get you set up in a room so we can fill out some paperwork and go over some of our suggestions, and I’ll get this one set up with a nice new collar and a muzzle,” Lexa said, pushing herself to her feet. 

You flinched at the movement, causing the blanket to fall from your back. 

“Shh pretty girl,” Alessia soothed you gently. “You’re ok,” 

Leah frowned, gesturing towards where you were practically melting at Alessia’s touch. “Why does she need a muzzle? She hasn’t been aggressive,”

A pained expression crossed Kara’s features as she also pushed herself to her feet, more slowly than Lexa had. “The muzzle is just precautionary. We’ve had her isolated since she’s been here, and we don’t want an incident if she gets overwhelmed,” 

Leah sighed, she had to agree. 

The last thing she wanted was for you to lash out because you got frightened. 

“I don’t want to leave her,” Alessia murmured, and you nuzzled deeper into her hand. 

She took that as you saying you didn’t want her to leave either, but she knew she had to. 

“They’ll only be a few minutes,” Kara promised. 

“And I’ll take good care of your pretty girl,” Lexa added, smiling genuinely at them. 

Alessia’s fingers dragged through your hair one more time, as she released a long breath. 

“I’ll see you in a few minutes alright?” She said, giving your one last scratch before she pulled away.

You pouted as she stood, making a low, upset sound.

“I know,” She repeated. “Just a few minutes, and you get to come home with me and Lee,” 

You huffed, turning away from them, grabbing your blanket between your teeth and heading for your little corner.  

Alessia frowned, but didn’t stop you. 

She knew it would take a lot to earn your trust. 

“It’ll be alright,” Lexa said as she closed the door of the kennel. “We’ll come find you guys as soon as I got her all set up,”

OoOoOoO

“She’s had all of her shots, and her medical paperwork is in the file. The first issue we should discuss is her temperament,” Kara began, sliding a stack of papers across the table for them to read, pointing to the first page that listed dietary suggestions. “I would suggest hand feeding. It’ll help her learn to trust you,” 

“You said she hasn’t been interested in food,” Leah said, looking down at the page. 

Next to likes and dislikes almost nothing was checked. There were no notes. 

All except a little star next to the line that read Peanutbutter. 

“No,” Kara agreed quickly. “But that could all be down to stress. Variety will be your best friend in the beginning. Stick with finding foods she’ll enjoy first, and then we can worry about meeting her required macros later,”

Alessia nodded, her mind already working through the foods they had in the cabinet and the ones they would need to buy. 

The Arsenal meal team had done well to provide the growing zoo within the team with foods that fit their preferences. If they could grill Jax a T-bone steak for lunch every day, then surely they could grill whatever food you latched on to. 

It would just be at home they would need to worry about. 

“I’m also going to suggest obedience classes,” Kara continued, flipping the packet of papers to show them a flier. “We offer one three times a week that I think would help both of you and your new pup,” 

“This is the one Lotte takes Brownie to,” Alessia noted, taking the flier. 

Leah hummed. “Beth and Viv took Lady last week too,”

“Friends in class are good,” Kara nodded. “It will help her to be around the same pets, and she should feel more comfortable,” 

Alessia and Leah shared a look. 

Making you comfortable was their number one priority. 

“We’ll be there,” Alessia said, only looking away from her girlfriend when a light knock sounded G the door, and it slowly swung open. 

Lexa peeked her head in, before she looked behind her. “Alessia and Leah are in here, don’t you want to say hello?”

They waited another long second, before your face very hesitantly appeared beside Lexa’s leg in the doorway. 

“Hey pretty girl, you’re ok,” Alessia said, breaking into a smile. 

You perked up considerably at her voice, looking up at Lexa as though you were asking for permission to actually enter the room. 

“Go ahead,” Lexa smiled down at you, reaching down to unclip the leash from your collar. “I think they’re excited to see you too,”

You waited a long second before you eased your way into the room, your blue blanket tied around your collar so it fell around your back like a cape. 

“Come here sweetheart,” Alessia cooed, drawing your wary eyes away from Lexa and Kara towards her and Leah. 

It took you another long second to make your way over to her, gently nudging her leg with your head. 

She reached down to scratch the sensitive spot just behind your ear, over where the straps of the leather muzzle landed. 

“Are you sure she needs that?” Leah asked, watching you carefully paw the material that covered your mouth. 

“It’s just precautionary,” Lexa repeated, taking the seat beside Kara. “She’s not aggressive, but fear can provoke a reaction bite. I would suggest she wear it when you’re going to be around people and other pets, just until she’s socialized and loses that fear response,” 

Leah and Alessia shared a hum, though Alessia didn’t look thrilled with the suggestion. 

They understood, yes, but it felt… dehumanizing. You were a person after all, despite what you had been conditioned to believe. 

At the same time, they both knew they couldn’t risk you biting someone, even out of fear. 

“We just need a name for her to complete the paperwork,”  Kara said, flipping the packet to the last page. “You can use pretty girl if you like,”

Leah and Alessia shared another look. 

While pretty girl was a nice nickname for you, they had something different in mind for your actual name. 

“Let’s go with Y/n,” Leah said, looking back towards Kara and Lexa. 

You hummed contentedly at the name, leaning into Alessia’s fingers. 

“I think she likes that name,” Alessia cooed, digger her nails under the straps of the muzzle, making sure none of your hair tangled in it. 

You made another sound of contentment as Kara finished filling out the papers and slid them to Leah and Alessia. 

“Just sign on the dotted line, and she’s all yours,” 

It only took them a second to scrawl their signatures on the indicated lines, and then Alex’s was passing them your leash. 

“Enjoy your new super pup,” Lexa said, winking at you. “And treat her well,”

“We will,” Leah promised. 

They would take care of you, and fix the damage that had been done if it was the last thing they ever did. 

OoOoOoO

Getting you back to their apartment had been… interesting. 

You had not been thrilled about the chest harness they strapped you into, but you hadn’t minded the car ride, even enjoying it when Alessia opened the back window for you. 

It was fine until they pulled up alongside a car that also had a pup in the back. You had pulled away from the window immediately, nearly jumping into the boot of Leah’s jeep before he started barking.

By the time the light changed and Leah eased the car forward, you were shaking like a leaf. It struck both of them as slightly off considering you had been trained to be a fighting dog. 

You had been very hesitant as they got you out of the car, your eyes swiveling around as they led you into their apartment and showed you around. 

Since then you had been curled up on the soft pet bed they had stationed in the living room, not even letting them close enough to you to remove the muzzle. 

They knew it would take time for you to settle. Their friends had all warned them of that already, so they let you be, flipping through channels until they got to a shark documentary that seemed to catch your attention. 

Alessia was thankful that the kitchen was connected to the living room so she didn’t have to leave you as she made dinner. Not that she didn’t trust Leah to watch you, but she didn’t want you to think she had disappeared. 

The first step to building trust was to show you that they were there, and you were safe. 

She stuck with simple foods, chicken and rice, partially because Leah didn’t like anything remotely adventurous and partially because she didn’t know what you would enjoy. 

She and Leah ate first, sharing worried looks when you didn’t even patter over at the smell of food.

After their meal was cleaned up, they turned their attention to you. 

They started by sitting on the floor in front of their couch, a good distance from your pet bed, with your food bowl. 

“Hey pretty girl, are you hungry?” Alessia asked gently, holding the bowl out for you to sniff. “If you come a little closer I can take your muzzle off and you can eat,”

You didn’t lift your head off of hand, or make any move to approach them. 

Your nostrils didn’t even flare out to smell the bowl. 

It sent red flags spinning in their brains. 

They shared a look before Alessia passed the bowl to Leah and scooted closer to you, to the edge of your bed. “Ok pretty girl, will you let me take the muzzle off?”

Your eyes flickered away from shark show and towards the blonde briefly, before your head tilted minutely. 

She took that as the ok to reach for the buckle on the leather contraption attached to your face, carefully easing it open and sliding it off of your head. 

You yawned wide as soon as it was removed, scrunching your nose adorably. 

Alessia passed the leather contraption she never intended to use again back to Leah, and the defender passed her the bowl. 

She reached into the bowl and pulled out a piece of chicken, carefully holding it out to you with a flat palm. “Eat for me, pretty girl,”

You huffed. 

“Please,” Alessia said, her voice edging on pleading as she offered you the piece again. 

You sighed, clearly unhappy, but you leaned forward and took the piece of chicken from her gently, chewing and swallowing. 

“Good girl, Y/n,” The forward hummed, reaching into the bowl and pulling out another piece. 

You let her feed you a few more bites before you buried your face in your bed, clearly signaling that you were finished with your meal. 

Alessia sighed again, looking back at Leah who could only shrug. 

She turned back to you and slowly extended her hand, scratching behind your ear. “You can be done,”

You made a groaning noise that sounded like relief. 

Leah snorted, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the half-filled bowl of food from Alessia. “I don’t think I ever per a pet who was happy dinner was over,”

“Y/n is one of a kind,” Alessia agreed, her nails dragging pleasantly against your scalp. 

OoOoOoO

Bedtime was relatively easy. 

Alessia and Leah went about their normal routines, only adding brushing your teeth and showing you where there was a second bed for you at the base of their bed. 

This one had a fluffy red blanket and a stuffed dragon. 

You had been… hesitant at first to get into it, looking at the door for the blue bed that existed in the living room. 

You chose to sit just in front of it, curling in a little ball that didn’t look comfortable, and draping your favorite blue blanket around you. (Alessia longed to fix it since it was bunched and only covered half of your body). 

Again, Leah and Alessia let you be. 

Lights were turned off as a stupid show played on the television as all three of you wound down, and before you knew it, a silence had settled over the room. It was broken only by the sounds of breathing and the occasional shift on the bed.

It was… uncomfortable. 

You weren’t used to it being so… quiet. 

You were used to the sounds of barks, and chain link shifting lulling you to sleep. You were used to a corner you could curl up in. 

You weren’t used to a bed, and you wanted to lay in it but you were sure it was a… trap. 

Just like you had thought the chicken Alessia tried to feed you was a trap. 

It had always been a trap before. 

You huffed, shifting next to the pet bed. 

Maybe if you slept in it, but woke up before the two women who had adopted you, you would be safe. 

It was soft, and you would be warm. 

You shifted again, freezing at the sound of someone moving from on the bed permeated the room. 

You had woken them up, and now the other shoe would finally fall. 

You curled tighter into yourself and waited for the pain that never came. 

Instead, there were only soft footsteps. 

“Trouble sleeping?” 

Your eyes blinked open at Leah’s soft question, meeting her blue eyes in the low light of the television. 

You nodded hesitantly. 

“Me neither,” Leah agreed. “Let’s go get a midnight snack,”

You padded after the defender as she headed towards the kitchen, stopping by the island near the stove as she headed for the cabinet by the fridge. 

She grabbed a brown jar with a teal lid, setting it on the counter before rummaging around in the drawer below. 

“Ah ha,” She cheered, holding up a spoon victoriously, grabbing the Jar, and turning to face you. 

Your head tilted to the side at the object. 

“I think you’ll like this,” She said, unscrewing the top and dipping in the spoon. 

When she pulled it out, the most delicious-smelling substance you had ever encountered coated it. 

You watched with rapt attention as the spoon disappeared into her mouth and came out clean.

Your mouth watered. 

“Peanut butter?” Leah asked, tilting the jar your way. 

Your head tilted, and you just barely leaned forward on your knuckles as your nose flared, trying to catch more of the scent. 

Leah’s lips tilted up at how adorable you looked, as she dipped the spoon back in the jar and then held it out for you. It was just out of your reach, closer to her than you had ventured yet. 

You had an immediate connection with Alessia but were still incredibly wary of her for some reason, she tried not to let it bother her.

You were hesitant to take the step forward. 

But it smelled so good. 

Your tummy rumbled, and your tongue darted across your lips. 

Leah stayed perfectly still, watching you with bated breath. She knew this was the only way to build trust with you. To show you that they wouldn’t hurt you. 

You very slowly took a step, tilting your head towards the offered treat, your eyes moving rapidly between her and the spoon. 

Your tongue carefully made its way between your lips and licked the spoon. 

Your eyes went very wide at the taste, and you quickly leaned closer to take the spoon into your mouth. 

“Good right?” Leah asked with a chuckle as the spoon came out of your mouth, completely free of peanut butter. 

You woofed softly, using your nose to nudge the now empty spoon back towards Leah, eyeing the jar on the counter.

She followed your eyes, shaking her head. “How about we try something else?” 

Alessia would kill her if she found out all you had eaten was Peanut Butter when you hadn’t been interested at all in dinner. She would point out that you needed carbs and protein to help you get to a healthy weight while being healthy. Neither of them liked how… skeletal you were, and any food was good really, but so was balance to give you the most sustainable energy they could. 

Leah searched the counter, looking for something to pair with the only food you seemed to like. 

“What about some banana?” She asked, grabbing for the fruit. 

She opened it and broke off a piece, offering it to you. 

You leaned forward to sniff it and pulled back in disgust. 

“What about if we add some Peanut butter?” She asked, digging the spoon back into the peanut butter and sticking the pale yellow slice on top. 

You stared at her skeptically, sure that the fruit would ruin the delicious brown treat underneath. 

“It’s good, trust me,” Leah promised when your eyes flickered back up to her. 

You huffed, scrunching your nose up at it, and then flinching away when you realized what you had done. 

“No pretty girl, you’re ok,” Leah said, dropping her voice and immediately sinking down so she was on the same level as you. She didn’t want to frighten you. “You’re allowed to not like things,” 

You curled into yourself, tucking your body as close as you could to the island. 

Leah wondered idly if Alessia would have elicited the same reaction from you. You seemed to trust the forward more for whatever reason. 

She gently pulled the banana bit off of the spoon, popping it into her mouth and offering the peanut butter to you once again. 

You sniffed, barely peeking out at her. 

She understood now why peanut butter was the only food on your list at the shelter. 

It was the only thing besides Alessia (and maybe your blue blanket) that you would risk coming out of your shell for. 

“You can have it,” Leah assured you, keeping her voice soothing and calm, ignoring the soft sound of padding feet coming down the hallway from their bedroom. “You’re ok,” 

You sniffed again, wishing you had brought your blanket with you on this excursion. Bad things always happened when you forgot it. 

You wanted to trust Leah, and the peanut butter did smell amazing. 

Very slowly, you leaned forward towards the spoon, making eye contact with Leah before you took it back into your mouth. 

She kept still as you licked it clean with a satisfied sigh, and pulled away. 

“Let’s go to bed,” She said, slowly pushing herself to stand, placing the spoon in the sink to be dealt with in the morning, and putting the jar of Skippy back into the cabinet. 

You woofed again softly, padding after her once she was done. 

Maybe things would be good here.

[graciepasty]

Gracie thank god you’re here. what do you mean they casted haymitch as white. what do you mean McKenna Grace is playing MAYSILEE. the only person they actually casted correctly is lenore this is so bad Gracie.

and like me and my friends have discussed this topic a lot. I hate white haymitch with a passion but she counteracted it with something along the lines of “yes i hate it too but you gotta remember—being white is a beauty standard for the tributes. If he’s white passing he gets more sponsors, more people to love him. It’s actually a genius movie for them to cast a white man to show the irony. But i hate it too because it ruins the part about how the seam is also Appalachia—native americans especially live there. To erase that is kind of ruining a major theme.”

HEAAAAVY on this one. People arguing that Haymitch in the movies is objectively blonde + blue eyed so it’s for continuity’s sake also bothers me so bad because Haymitch NOT having blonde hair and blue eyes is actually crucial to his character in the books

Obviously there are ways you can show class division other than appearance but I think when it’s so explicitly stated that he doesn’t look like people from the merchant side of town/implied that he is a POC, it’s necessary to include. A white actor shouldn’t have been casted with Haymitch even in the original movies so I have no idea why they would decide to double down on it here😭 but I can’t say I’m surprised exactly considering Lionsgate doesn’t have a great track record when staying true to the books or the message of THG in the first place. The erasure of indigenous and black people in THG has always been insane. Personally, I’m disappointed but not surprised, I haven’t had high hopes for this movie since the SHEIN collab.

Your friends argument does not land with me I fear… especially because it’s emphasized so much in the book that Haymitch is an outsider, a rascal, a troublemaker. He’s an amateur bootlegger from District 12 who scored a one in training, he has no shot from the very beginning. The Capitol favours the career Districts because they’re (as far as we know) majority white and higher society compared to the other Districts, i.e. closer to the Capitol. IMO it highlights the irony more with a POC Haymitch than a white Haymitch, because although he’s a victor, he will never be Capitol, the Capitol will never consider him one of them, will never treat him as a human being. He was never made to appear as an insider.

For Maysilee, it’s more personal preference than something that genuinely fucks with my moral code. Love Mckenna Grace, I just think she lacks the edge that is characteristic of Maysilee and I’m not sure if the badassery could work on her, just generally not who I had in mind at all. Also the fact that Maysilee is an identical twin, and as far as I know, Mckenna Grace is certainly not one. Not sure if we’ll have a Liv and Maddie situation or not but what the hell, sure. I’m nothing if not open minded, I’ll wait and see I suppose

Lenore Dove I was totally happy with I love Whitney Peak <3 thank GOD Sadie Sink wasn’t casted as suggested by some… fans……… bitch I would literally be rioting in the streets

[gritandoengay]

The discourse around Arcane is curious, because it seems like a show that, while it definitely has its flaws, also suffers from many people projecting what they thought the show was about and what its central focus would be. Maybe it's because we're living in a moment of right wing populism making its comeback in several countries and people are, understandably, looking for media to serve as some sort of guide, but - why look for that in Arcane? I'm always baffled when people say that they're disappointed season 2 of Arcane wasn't a Marxist dream of the proletariat triumphantly defeating the upper classes of Piltover or some seminary piece on how to resist an empire Andor style when like...season 1 wasn't either.

I can see why some people might think so, the foundation was laid with the setting and character backstories. Piltover oppresses Zaun, Silco is our main antagonist and he's explicitly seeking independence for Zaun (I'm not going to get into the character himself because that's a whole vat of worms), Ekko forms the Firelights as a resistance group, Sevika's whole deal is following whoever she thinks is the current Che Guevara, etc. We also see and explore the corruption that runs rampant in Piltover and the enforcers through Jayce, Caitlyn, Marcus, etc.

But, a lot of that merely informs the show and its themes, it's not the heart of the show or even that central to the storylines of every major character. I'm not going to give a rundown of every single character arc in season 1, but let's look at the ones that are supposed to be the heart of the story: Vi and Jinx. The heart of the show is (again, supposed to be) Jinx and Vi's relationship, and the climax of season 1 revolves wholly around their relationship. Don't get me wrong, their backstories are very much a product of the cruel and oppressive systems they have to navigate, and those forces often conspire to keep them apart, but their main motivations and actions are deeply personal throughout season 1.

Vi is never a revolutionary

Vi is a character whose backstory positioned her perfectly to become a revolutionary. Her parents are killed by enforcers and she's thrown into Stillwater to rot away as a fucking teenager. Vi has every reason to want to burn it all down, and make no mistake, she absolutely hates the enforcers and Piltover. That said, her priority after leaving Stillwater isn't to burn it all down - it's to find Jinx and rescue her from Silco's clutches. She teams up with Caitlyn, an enforcer, and then later Jayce, the god damn Head of the Council. Vi never hesitates to call out Pilties on their bullshit - but at no point as an adult does she state an intent to bring down Piltover and all its institutions.

Her focus is squarely on getting her sister back, everything and everybody else be damned. As a character, Vi's priorities are her people, her people being her family. Not the entirety of Zaun, not the oppressed classes around the world, her family and loved ones. I'm gonna say something "controversial" again, but it's actually very human for somebody that has been through what Vi has to do what Vi does, to say she just wants to take Powder/Jinx and get away from it all, including Silco's own little empire in Zaun. Not everybody is a revolutionary in real life either, many people just want to exist in peace after years of hardship and escape somewhere better with their loved ones.

Jinx was never that interested in revolution either

This one is harder to understand at first glance because Jinx is raised by Mr. Nation of Zaun himself and very vocally expresses her hatred towards Pilties and enforcers (whom she takes great pleasure in killing!), plus of course everything she says about Caitlyn. Her actual motivations for hating Caitlyn aren't mainly that Caitlyn is a rich Piltie cop though - no, that hatred stems first and foremost from the insecurity Jinx feels when she sees Caitlyn with Vi, when she feels unwanted and threatened as the most important person in Vi's life.

Jinx doesn't kidnap Caitlyn because Caitlyn is the daughter of a councilor and the scion of one of the most powerful families in all of Piltover, she kidnaps Caitlyn because she intends to force Vi to choose between them. It's all a deeply personal conflict, Caitlyn could have been another poor oppressed Zaunite like them and Jinx still probably would have thrown a fit.

Jinx doesn't shoot a rocket at the Piltover Council because she's had it with the oppression of Zaun, she shoots a rocket at the Council because she's in an incredibly fragile emotional state after killing her adopted father figure (again) and thinking that her relationship with Vi is broken beyond repair. Yeah, no shit somebody that was already super mentally unstable and with a huge god damn rocket loses it.

This is also why it's not terribly surprising when she...doesn't actually do any revolutionary figure stuff in season 2. Disappointing? Maybe, if your favorite part about Jinx in season 1 was her hating the enforcers and Piltover, but not surprising. Her hatred of Caitlyn in season one might be due in part to Caitlyn being an enforcer, but it's first and foremost because she sees Caitlyn as the proverbial homewrecker that is going to steal Vi away from her. She sees Caitlyn as the one that is going to replace her because she's fundamentally broken, crazy - a jinx.

Season 1 was not first and foremost about revolution

Here's when I knew we weren't going to get a masterclass in imperialism or that revolution was going to be the central theme of Arcane going forward: when Silco and Jayce, the former being the violent drug lord running the Undercity and the latter the newly appointed Head of the Council way in over his head, meet up to negotiate the sovereignty of Zaun. I have to admit that I laughed a little at the set up - not that it would never happen in real life (y'all romanticize drug lords too much btw), but it still seemed a little silly.

Anyway, when Jayce gives Silco the condition of handing over Jinx in exchange for Zaunite independence, that should have clued everybody in that this show was first and foremost trying to be a character drama. It's true Zaun was starting to become unruly/a threat to Piltover, but come on, "Hand over the girl and we will give you independence" is not how empires operate lol. No, this was done to create more internal conflict for Silco, to pit his ideals and all he's worked for vs his love for his adopted daughter.

Speaking of Silco, making the guy that most fervently wants independence for Zaun the main antagonist of the season is peak Hollywood status quo centrism. The writing was on the wall there folks, no matter how well written and nuanced you think his character is.

Season 2 has issues, but this show has always had issues

I have my disappointments with season 2 as well. For one, it desperately needed to be longer. Season 2 should have been the natural continuation of the Piltover vs Zaun conflict and season 3 about the Machine Herald/Arcane proper storyline. Hell, just three or four more episodes could have done wonders for all the character arcs and plot points that were rushed. But there were budget constraints and time considerations and orders from above to shove in the Black Rose for sequel set up so *shrug*, kind of a "it is what it is" situation. There are 200k word fanfictions out there that masterfully weave all these character arcs into a Piltover vs Zaun focused narrative, so that's why I've been pretending s2 could have been.

It's just confusing to see so much rage and resentment against the second season of a series that was only...marginally more class conscious or "woke" than most other mainstream media to begin with. I hesitate to say Arcane was ever super woke when it does the whole "we're pretending racism, homophobia, sexism, etc. don't exist in this universe with other oppressive systems" thing and as a result the ultimate big bad Noxian warlord is a black woman (kind of yikes), not to mention how Arcane sidelines several poc characters and/or turns them into accessories for white characters. This "Only money and class status matter in this world" framing naturally attracts a fandom full of class reductionism though, so of course every discourse quickly spirals into "This character is inherently good because they're poor and this character is inherently bad because they're rich." and "Arcane should have turned into Jinx rallying her comrades to form a communist utopia"

Want shows that more accurately depict police corruption and brutality? Go watch The Wire, go watch The Shield, go watch When They See Us. Want popular sci-fi shows that more accurately depict the horrors of capitalism? Go watch Squid Game and Severance. Want a show that accurately depicts imperialism and how to resist it? For the love of god, go watch Andor then.

Yes, Arcane could have definitely done more with many of these themes and handled them better, you can criticize it for its mishandling of those topics and dropping some of season 1's narrative threads in season 2 (a much less narratively and thematically tight season). What I don't understand was confidently hyping yourself up for some masterful takedown of capitalism and all the violent mechanisms that maintain it, those expectations just seemed a little...silly to be honest. There are other shows that very clearly state that intent from the beginning, go watch those.

If you're disappointed in what you think Arcane could have been, then I say this with outright sincerity and no malice, write that fanfiction or write that original story yourself. Share that vision with the world.

[elendsessor]

okay didn’t mean to make a follow up post so soon but in thinking about how the hunter is treated in wilds and the shadiness behind the guild’s actions in that entry specifically, i also started thinking about the actual importance of the forbidden lands on a lore standpoint going beyond just the guardians.

there isn’t really a true concrete timeline except for sequels to dos, but the common theme throughout each dos-adjacent game is legends coming back and things meant to be forgotten, well, not being forgotten.

lunastra returning is one thing, finally properly introducing the ancient civilization beyond fatalis stuff. 4u sees an entire shift of the environment. while not explicitly stated to be a sequel, sunbreak does mention the frenzy virus outbreak and a rough estimate as to how long it might’ve been going on for. frontier is still debatably canon, but with acknowledgements of mezeporta existing in mainline and the diva in wilds offering stat buffs like she did in frontier (keo and/or inagami are just waiting to come back), we can at least assume the possibility of certain lore concepts and maybe even monster lore yet to appear being canon. heck, valstrax becoming more common at least around the point of rise and them being symbols of disaster speak volumes.

wilds is the biggest deep dive we’ve gotten on ancient civilization lore in a long while, but man is it huge.

the fact that the forbidden lands are called the forbidden lands to begin with is a major red flag. the people living there don’t call it that, meaning the guild is what gave it the name. and with tasheen mentioning some of the remaining citizens of wyveria left to go elsewhere means there’s no way the guild didn’t know about what was going on there.

and i think that’s also where the zoh shia assignments are better put into perspective. the guild wasn’t helping nata because it was the right thing to do, rather they wanted to erase the existence of the forbidden lands altogether because they’re potentially on the verge of another dragon war.

i mainly say this because of how olivia is portrayed. she’s loyal to a fault, and the lack of a handler proves that. but it’s also interesting how adamant she is to have the dragontorch be shut down despite experiencing not only an entire ecosystem thriving, not only a civilization thriving, but especially because a hunter’s job is to preserve that very ecosystem no matter where it is.

this is further supported by the high rank zoh shia assignment. verner’s surprised to hear her be against the dragontorch destruction. she wasn’t there to experience the fight nor showed any doubt in the hunter’s capabilities at any point. say what you will about monster hunter writing but she definitely isn’t the type to change her opinions on a dime. i do think all along she wanted to keep the dragontorch standing. so why so adamant?

for one is that loyalty. she’s the perfect mouthpiece for the guild.

the other is what that destruction brings. the people will suffer and so will the monsters, but the guardians? gone. easy to be cleaned up. the keepers don’t have a purpose anymore and the secret of wyveria’s unethical activities would eventually be forgotten. there would be no reason to go to the forbidden lands. wiping out an ecosystem is a small price to pay for peace.

but everything persisted anyways. the guardians are shown capable of becoming semi-organic, at least with g ark.

zoh shia can’t be the only edw-adjacent monster i’m sorry. you can’t tell me no civilization thought the same thing. heck, wyveria isn’t THE ancient civilization, rather it was a part of it. for them to be preparing for war despite no clear opposition could be because they anticipated something. why else would they demand dominance over an entire ecosystem? why would they make biological weapons instead of the standard super weapons everyone can have? they knew they were pushing it. there was a matter of time before something fought back. the only hope they had to keep dominance was to play by enough rules. even if they were somehow the only society capable of such a feat, it wasn’t just them who suffered.

with a bunch of elder dragons reawakening, premonitions of disaster and ecological changes, the guild has every reason to fear another war. perhaps they felt like they did something wrong, and they believed the only way to fix it was to pin it on someone. what happened to keep standing? the forbidden lands. the wyrmway. one of if not the last active remnant of the ancient civilization.

ngl i’d love to see capcom follow up on these implications. maybe we won’t get a dragon war 2 electric boogaloo but i’d love to see how letting the dragontorch remain impacts the entire world. hear me out-

[gatheredfates]

POSES. It happened! ✨

I made a smaller post this morning, but I am super pleased to announce that Tumblr's moderation has approved SEAFLOOR as a Community! We're live, baeby!

If you don't know what a Community is, you can check out Tumblr's post about it here.

If you are interested in joining, I will copy/paste the information contained on the Community's pinned post in the read more below, as you won't see it otherwise (outside of joining). I'd like to kindly request that if you are already a member of the Community to not like this post (it just saves me doubling up) but please reblog it to spread the word!

Welcome to SEAFLOOR! This a Community run by myself, Sea (@gatheredfates), as an offshoot of the identically named Discord server aimed to contain both my personal projects and promote member-created content. If you would still like to keep up to date with my projects, interact with members of my community, and generally enjoy xiv content without the pressure of a Discord, this is the place!

This server has mandatory tags that MUST be used for spoilers. A general rule of thumb is the most recent patch/live letter is considered spoiler content and must be marked accordingly; as well as major spoilers for the most recent expansion. If it doubt, it always pays to tag. Please mind the following:

#dawntrail spoilers

#7.0. spoilers (will likely come into effect for 7.1 to differentiate from general Dawntrail spoilers, but you can tag for both!)

#liveletter spoilers

Much like my Discord, there are some house rules I want to put in place first for first-time users. Please familiarise yourself with the below. This post is pinned; you can't claim you haven't seen it. A lot of these are near-identical to the server rules, but I'll be no-less forceful in implementation if they are not adhered to.

If I'm being entirely honest, moderation past Community maintenance is something I do not want to engage with, so I will be intervening only when it is entirely necessary and will be harsh in my implementation. Therefore, if you don't think you can conduct yourself in a healthy, adult manner, do not join. Some of these rules may seem 'harsh' but are the product of me making clear boundaries in what I will expect, tolerate and foster. I will not hesitate to curate where I feel it is necessary.

I believe in the age-old phrase "Be excellent to each other," and that underpins every rule featured below. If in doubt, refer back to this mantra.

This Community is strictly 21+ only. This is to keep in line with my personal boundaries regarding minors. It's nothing personal, I just don't have time to moderate for a younger audience.

Common-sense rules apply. Do not break Tumblr's ToS, spoiler/content warm where appropriate and sensible, and don't be rude/harass people in the comments. Just because a rule isn't explicitly stated doesn't mean you have full reign to do the thing.

Intolerance (namely racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc.) will not be tolerated. If you don't like it, the back button is free.

Due to this being a predominately XIV focused Community, dark themes will present due to subject manner explored in the game. I will not enforce mandatory tags/censors outside of patch/expansion spoilers; I just ask that people use their common sense and consider peoples' safety and mental wellbeing when posting work(s). If you do not warn appropriately or mock/ignore requests for things to be censored/warned, you will be removed.

As Communities are in their infancy, rules may be amended/adjusted to better fit this space's purpose as time goes on. While I will attempt to make these changes obvious, please check back on occasion just in case. "I didn't know," is not a valid excuse.

HOKAY, now that the serious of the rules are out of the way, you might be wondering to yourself, "Sea, what can be posted?" I'm glad you asked! ✨ First and foremost, as I do not encourage secular spaces, please make sure all content has originated from a public tumblr blog. I want to encourage people to reach out, interact and follow other people, not just stick to this space! Beyond that, I accept:

Screenshots (gpose), writing, art, think pieces and other xiv content created by members. You can tag these with #gpose, #writing, #art, etc.

Resource gathering similar to what is featured in the Discord server including resources, prompts, commissions, etc. You can tag these with #resources, #prompts, #WoLQoTD, #commissions, #other, etc. These do not have to be created by members in the community.

Event, character profiles, looking for content/rp/free companies and more! You can tag these with #events, #character profile, #lfc, #lfr, #free company, etc. These do not have to be created by members in the community.

Links to lodestone posts/dev commentary and other official posts provided they are tagged correctly. You can tag these with #lodestone.

Anything you've created in response to my projects! You can tag these as #sea's character questions OR whatever the event is at the time (for example, Down to Dawntrail posts can be tagged as #(count)down to dawntrail)! I will try to reblog anything that I am tagged in if the owner doesn't reblog it here.

Anything xiv related that isn't covered here but you think is in line with the spirit of this community and what I'm trying to foster. Please DM me if you're unsure.

[sanguine-s]

is Radagon actually the father of Messmer and Melina

that Radagon is the father of Messmer and Melina is a common assumption in the Elden Ring fandom, despite there being no concrete proof that this is the case.

here i basically complain about the validity of this theory

(1) the commonly used pieces of evidence to support this theory are not very conclusive:

Messmer has red hair, just like Radagon: however, red hair is related to the Fell God (and adjacently the giants) rather than Radagon himself. also, not all of Radagon's progeny have red hair.

Messmer's boss theme has Radagon's leitmotifs: as a music nerd, please believe me that there are NONE present in Messmer's theme. I can see why people may think so, however. they are in the same key and use very similar orchestration. they both have a heavy 'midi sound' attributable to being composed and produced by the same person. they both use a rolling timpani percussive beat; i consider this a generic technique and the actual rhythms are pretty different. to say they share the same motifs is like saying traditional chinese music has leitmotifs of kung fu panda 2.

Messmer and Melina share the M- naming convention of Radagon/Marika's children: however, the M- naming convention is shared across all of Marika's children (Morgott, Mohg) except Godwyn; it is not limited to Radagon/Marika children.

Messmer and Melina are born afflicted like Miquella and Malenia: however, Morgott and Mohg were also born afflicted (as being Omens). also, it is not clear if this really applies to Melina.

(2) further, the simple theory of Radagon being the father fails to reconcile significant aspects of Messmer and Melina's characters:

they are both associated with the Fell God, with Melina channelling the Flame of Ruin and Messmer having Fell God designs in his boss arena. they both have 'kindling' and are both used to burn major trees. they were both born with 'visions of fire'. the Fell God's influence is a clear possible reason for their red hair (this connection to the Fell God is absolutely exclusive to Messmer and Melina).

they both have a single eye sealed shut. the reason for, or method by which Melina's eye was shut is not known.

Melina was not conceived conventionally (i.e. through fornication), which would be the method implied if Radagon were the father. instead, she is explicitly stated to be born from the foot of the Erdtree, without a mother.

Melina was created by Marika for a specific purpose (which is not known to us). she goes against this purpose to set fire to the Erdtree.

the unprecedented level of exclusive connections between Messmer and Melina suggests that they share similar birth circumstances that are separate from Radagon/Marika's twins (just like how twins Morgott and Mohg are both Omens, and how Miquella and Malenia are reflections of opposite parents). but unlike the other mentioned children, this shared circumstance is NOT because they are twins as it's stated that Melina is the younger sister. if they were conceived on two separate occassions yet share these traits, that means their traits/afflictions are NOT due to freaky godly selfcest, but likely inherited or influenced by their form of conception.

conclusion: Radagon certainly did not father Messmer/Melina in the same way that he did Miquella/Malenia

although yes i guess there could have been some freaky birth magic going on involving Radagon.

above all, PLEASE STOP SAYING THAT MESSMER'S THEME HAS RADAGON'S MOTIF.