#like these fucking arcane cannons

[tiredmoonslut]

Baldur's Gate is making me feel mad stupid because there are just so many ways to solve problems that I would never have thought of. Playing so many games in which there is only one or two ways to do anything has made me SHIT at the puzzles and challenges in this game because it really is just whatever you can come with. I keep waiting for the game to spell it out to me and it simply. Does not. Because the spirit of D&D is to improvise and get creative and think outside the box and the degree to which this game honors that is insane. I end up caving and googling how to do something only to get smacked in the face by an incredibly creative outcome I simply never would have thought of and I feel DUMB

[unluckiestmember]

Intimate Moments (Arcane Edition)

Summary: The most intimate and emotional moment during sex you’ve had with the main Arcane characters!

Characters: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Viktor and Silco

Warning: NSFW for sexual themes and suggestive themes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: A compilation from my last account and one of my personal favorite imagines/headcanons. Enjoy!

Jinx

It was your first time having sex with her. She didn’t really know what she was doing, but Jinx being Jinx, dived head first. Literally. She thinks she’s seen and been to heaven when she’s between your legs. The feeling of her on you in such a position made you moan out her name.

Not Jinx. But Powder.

Jinx stares up at you and you already know you made a mistake. No one calls her Powder, not even Silco! Unless you have a death wish, you should keep that name out of your mouth!

You stare down at her blue eyes expecting a scowl or a roar! But you were shocked when she whispered to you,

“Say it... Say it again.”

So you say it. “Powder.”

“Say it again.”

“Powder.”

“Please say it again.”

“Powder...”

You experience the best orgasm in your life, having the loose cannon below pleasure you like there was no tomorrow. She let her tongue work wonders and picked up her pace, taking in all of you in her mouth. When you came, Jinx cleaned you up and even pleasured you a little more, causing your eyes to roll back in eternal bliss.

She could tell you were finished for now so she pulled herself up to cuddle into your side. It took you a minute until you realized she cried to sleep. Not tears of anger or sorrow. But of joy.

Ever since, you are the only one who can call her Powder.

Vi

Vi is a wild animal in bed.

She’ll throw you down and waste no time to fuck your brains out for simple pleasure.

But one day, during a steamy make out session, you stopped to kiss down on her bandaged knuckles.

She’s taken a back for a minute.

Why would you do that?

You keep kissing on her knuckles without a care in the world. “Stop it,” She told you, trying her best to pull away from you. But you hold her softly. “Y/N, stop it...” She keeps fighting back for a minute, but eventually stops.

The brute breaks in your arms. How could you do that? How could you love someone who’s ruined so many lives with those fists of hers? It was impossible, wasn’t it? But you told her the answer to her worries and questions with a single glance into her gray eyes.

‘No.’

That night, you two had sex as usual, but this was more personal. More intimate. Vi took more gentle strokes and eased into picking up her speed and slamming harder on you.

She screams and moans your name like a prayer, countlessly says she loves you, feeling like any moment you will disappear. Though the way your hands relaxed on her hips and drew circles along her waist said otherwise.

The two of you came together before sleeping in each other’s arms. She could get used to sensual sex like that…

Caitlyn Kiramman

Innocent little Caitlyn.

Why are there barely any headcanons for Caitlyn? I-

Caitlyn was a classy woman, so sex was never really on her mind. It still wasn’t when you guys started dating. But you both knew you had to get things over with eventually. So one evening, Caitlyn dragged you to her room to try it.

The both of you were super awkward, especially the female enforcer. She would always ask in between actions “Are you okay? Is this right? Should it be the other way?” Bless her soul.

All around, everything was going well.

Until it was time to get naked. When it came her turn to feel pleasure, she didn’t do anything.

She hung her head low to the ground almost in disappointment. She stared down at her body. Thoughts lingered in her head; ‘What if I’m not beautiful to Y/N? What if I make a fool out of myself?’

Before she could ask herself any more questions, you rid her of her worries with sweet kisses. With every piece of clothing thrown on the floor, you whisper out, “You’re so precious. You look like an angel. Oh, I love you so much.”

You almost broke her down with every kiss you placed to mark her body. Your lips graced on her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her chest and finally her core. Oh, you loved everything about her.

You started to eat her, licking inside her folds at an average pace and flicking your tongue on her clit.

In a matter of seconds, her hands are lost in your hair, pushing your head closer to her to feel all of your tongue inside of her. Her moans clouded the room long after she came in your mouth. Pulling up, you both had lust in your eyes and could tell the night was still young…

Let’s just say she eventually screamed your name to the heavens long into the night and she realized two things; Sex with you was the best! And she was beautiful.

Ekko

Ekko has always been a bit of a wild boy when it came to having sex with you. It’s why you two were together to begin with.

He can be playful some nights, chuckling with you when he messes up something. Rough when he just really wants you. And romantic when you just need to know he cares about you.

One night the two of you were just having the time of your lives. He was slamming into you from behind, groaning out, “You like that, huh? Yeah, go ahead and scream my name, baby.” And boy did you love it.

Just feeling him stretch you out and pound deeper and faster in you was like euphoria. You found yourself screaming at the top of your lungs, “Ah, yes! Right there! Fuck, I love you, Ekko!”

You didn’t want it to stop, but soon the movement had slowed and the grip on your thighs loosened. You felt your body turning now to face the leader of the firelights panting down at you. “You love me,” He questioned, his brown eyes glistening in the moonlight full of hesitant awe.

Did you say you loved him? You never told him because you were scared of getting attached. He was the leader of a cause and lived in Zaun. Any minute he could be taken from you, so you tried not to get attached. Yet you said you loved him, whether it be out of lust or love wasn’t important. You said the sacred three words to him.

In that moment, you were sure as he began to stroke inside of you again, you didn’t see a warrior. You saw your boyfriend, your best friend, your everything.

He must have seen that in you too because he started to dig deeper in you, continuously hitting your g-spot with smooth strokes. His arms wrapped around you tightly, groaning at the feeling of a climax approaching him.

Together in a sea of utter pleasure, the both of you came together before relaxing in each other’s embrace under the shine of the midnight moon.

You slept well that night in his arms, letting him hold onto you with the mindset of if he let you go, you wouldn’t come back.

No matter what, after that day, you both say I love you at least once a day.

Viktor

My everything next to Jinx.

You and Viktor have been partners for a long time in Piltover, working on projects together when he wasn’t accompanied by Jayce. Though you two never started to officially date because hexcore was more important, even if deep down you two wanted to become an item.

Well, the thing about humans is that they don’t know how precious people are until they almost lose them.

Viktor found himself having a particularly horrible week; The hexcore may have fixed him, but took away a close friend. He may have almost stopped an incoming war, but he ended up losing some close allies due to the bombing on the council’s headquarters.

He had thought he lost you when the city went into lockdown due to the commotion. Thank the gods he found you that night safe and sound at your home.

Thank the gods he was safe too.

That following night, the two of you met one another at your home, where he knocked on your door. Your eyes connected with his amber eyes, and you were sure they screamed one thing; ‘I need you’.

In a matter of seconds, you two synchronized like gears to slam each others’ lips onto one another. Moving in rhythm, bodies danced through the dimly lit house towards your bedroom, where the scientist pushed you down on your comforter and wasted no time to rid himself of your clothes.

You did the same, though you found it cute and amusing that he was apologizing for his ‘inappropriate’ actions. You showed it was okay when you slammed your lips onto his again and felt yourself yearning for him.

You two grinded on each other, letting your lower bodies explore one another through groans and moans. The entire night, you two were one. Nothing else mattered when you found Viktor cumming inside of you and placing your hand gently onto your cheek.

You two stared at one another desperately before you heard the man speak in his native tongue, “я люблю тебя так сильно.”

You never questioned what that meant, but when you two started dating, he made it an effort to always tell you “I love you so much.”

Silco

As long as you’ve been dating the crime lord of Zaun, you knew damn well that Silco was not an emotional guy. No one has ever seen him let out his feelings to people, not even Jinx.

If he did ever give into his emotions, it would be out of anger, but never out of love.

He only ever saw sex as something done to relieve stress, kind of like you. You were his bitch anyways, nothing more.

That’s why he would always fuck your brains out, slamming his cock inside of you through your mouth or lower end with one goal in mind; To forget about the world and please himself for once in his god awful life.

However, one evening when he was railing deep inside of you on your desk, something was different to say the least. He wasn’t fucking you like a mad man. He wasn’t calling you degrading names and growling like an animal. Instead, his strokes were sensual and careful.

That was new. Was he sick? It’s not that you didn’t enjoy it. But why was he doing this?

You reach up to touch his face where his scar was and the man had froze up. You wanted to ask what the hell was going on. Where was the man who would pound you senseless?

Instead of being given an answer, his orange and blue eyes just pierced down at you before he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Through those eyes, you had seen the man you once knew. A man who was calculating, but somewhat compassionate. A man who just wanted the best for him and his brother. A man once had big dreams he wanted to accomplish with you by his side.

He always said that naïve brat was gone, but you always knew he was in there. That’s why you had no issue with this new version of him. It’s why you never batted an eye at his scarred eye. As a matter of fact, you adored it. You adored him.

With the feeling of your lips crashing slowly into his, Silco began to fuck you as usual. His strokes only picked up after a moment of your moans colliding in your mouth.

Before you knew it, he came hard and deep inside of you, making you scream out his name before relaxing a bit. Now panting hard on his desk, you stared up at Silco, finding him panting along with you. He eventually pulled away to sit in his chair.

You don’t know why he apologized or what happened that night, but from that day forward, Silco was more open to showing his appreciation for you…

Arcane requests are currently open! :D

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, be safe and have a good day! <3

[no-more-tales-tavern]

Twisted Tales Tavern Special:

On the Road Again~

Unless you're getting shot out of a cannon every time you and your party sets off on a new quest, the journey to your destination can be a long one. Townships are often days— sometimes over a week—of hard travel apart from each other, and between random encounters and general boredom, there's a million different ways to fill the time between point A and B. Just try not to lose yourself so much in the journey that you forget your destination entirely~

Canon Muses: Keyleth of the Air Ashari (Half-Elf Moon Druid), Vex'ahlia Vessar/DeRolo (Half-Elf Beastmaster Ranger), Jester Lavorre (Tiefling Trickster Cleric), Nott the Thicc (Goblin Arcane Trickster Rogue), Yasha Nydoorin (Aasimar Zealot Barbarian), Fearne Calloway (Satyr Wildfire Druid), Deanna Leimert (Gnome Life Cleric)

Ruby Rose (Human Ranger/Rogue), Weiss Schnee (Half-Elf Lore Bard), Blake Belladonna (Tabaxi Assassin Rogue), Yang Xiao-Long (Human Barbarian/Monk), Pyrrha Nikos (Human Champion Fighter)

Ochako Uraraka (Human Graviturgy Wizard), Momo Yaoyorozu (Human Monk/Rogue), Mina Ashido (Tiefling Spores Druid), Nejire Hado (Air Genasi Long Death Monk), Rumi Usagiyama (Lagomore Barbarian/Monk)

Test Muses: Anko Mitarashi (Half-Elf Assassin Rogue), Naruko Uzumaki (Half-Elf Beast Barbarian), Rukia Kuchiki (Halfling Bladesinger Wizard), Rangiku Matsumoto (Half-Elf Glamour Bard), Neliel Tu Odelschwanck (Satyr Ancients Paladin), Lucy Heartfilia (Aasimar Celestial Soul Sorcerer), Erza Scarlet (Human Battlemaster Fighter)

OC Muses: Jaerik Aldraeyds, Yora Vor’ziira, Esper Willowwind, Jade Ren, Terra Verdell

Kinks: Outdoors, Monster-Fucking, Hiding, Cheating, Mind-Break

Memes: Some Like it Rough v1, Overwhelmed, The Great Outdoors

[dragongirlintestines]

Hunger Over Levin-3, Part 1

A vore fic featuring Thorne and Prin (@wolfgirlguts)

Ashvale station, in the orbit of Levin-3, has lain derelict for several years. The only things keeping it functional are the autonomous maintenance systems, still diligently scrubbing oxygen filters and purifying water. Designed to last, the half-mile long series of abandoned habitation rings has become a favorite stop of pirates, mercenaries, and others who would otherwise prefer to lay low for a few days. It's a far cry from the tourist-heavy resort destination whatever megacorp built the structure intended it for.

However, such shadowed corners of the galaxy are ideal hunting grounds for monsters.

Content warnings: Mentions of Sex, Blood, Gore, Graphic Digestion, General Cruelty.

Retro-rockets fire as a lone shuttle makes its final approach to Ashvale station, its raider crew cramped from the arduous journey and ready to spend some time reveling in their recent spoils. The raid had gone easier than expected, and they have some time to waste before they're due to rendezvous with the rest of the fleet.

Six bodies cross the umbilical between fuselage and installation, a mix of soft furs, ears of various shapes, and one tough, scaly hide. Two foxgirls, one red and one silver, mischievous grins flashing in the half light. A deergirl with an impressive rack of antlers spins an ill-gotten amulet around one finger, while a bright-eyed rabbit boy follows closely behind, eagerly chatting to her about something. Behind those four, standing two heads above the rest, a broad croc gal trudges, hauling one unwieldy laser cannon over her shoulder. Finally, a wolfman with greying muzzle follows, his walking staff thrumming with arcane power.

"Did you see the way that one looked when we busted down the door?" the rabbit remarks to the doe, "Priceless! I never get tired of those corpos' reactions when they realize they've fucked up!"

One of the vixens turns and smirks back at him, "Maybe we should see if we can get you to make that same face tonight!"

"I think you'd look quite cute begging for your life like that," the other vixen chimes in, moving to flank the leporine young man. A blush crosses his face as he recalls the pair's reputation for needing to burn off excess energy after a raid.

Similar jests continue as the motley crew make their way through slowly rotating habitation rings, finding a cluster of rooms around a common dining hall. It would seem the last residents to make use of the station had a sense of thieves-honor, and kept the rooms decently well maintained before their departure. The halls themselves are silent, lights extinguished except when the approaching party's life signs trigger their activation. The revelrous sound of footfalls and energetic excitement echo back and forth as the pirates set up for several sols of post-raid debauchery.

"Ahhh, it was so nice of them to leave that booze behind the bar! I was worried we'd have to dip into some of our own stash tonight!" sighs the red-furred vixen, reclining on a bed laden with pillows. The bunny boy, now thoroughly winded, rests his head on her slightly chubby belly, too exhausted and drunk to do anything about the mix of fluids matting down their fur. Beside them, the other vixen lays an arm across the pair, completing the rabbit sandwich.

Not one of them notices as another small shuttle silently glides in to dock alongside their craft.

--

"Yeah, and we still wouldn't have to if you hadn't drank half the bar, Shay," the silver fox groans, a teasing grin playing across her face as she gazes longingly into her girlfriend's eyes.

"Shut up, Bella," The other shoots back, flicking her partner's snout playfully. Above them, something creaks in the station.

"I didn't think we were that rough…" Bella jokes, before turning back to her lovers. "Whatever."

"Uggghhhh…" moans the cottontail between them, as he begins to roll off of Shay. "Gotta piss, do you know where the toilet is?"

"Nope! Let us know where it is when you find it!" Bella laughs. "Maybe after you use it. Unless you're into that, Ollie!"

"Ew. No." he deadpans as he disentangles himself from the horny vixen.

"Okie! Take your time, I'll get Shay here warmed up for round four!"

"Where is the damn bathroom?" The rabbit finds himself thinking, as he meanders through the hallways of the derelict station. The thought crosses his mind that this kind of poor design may have been one of the factors that led to its failure as a resort, and he chuckles to himself.

"Those stupid horny foxes…" Ollie thinks to himself as he leaves the room, unable to help but glance back at their still-throbbing cocks. It doesn't go unnoticed, and Shay shoots him a mischievous wink in response.

--

Up ahead, one of the sensor lights flickers on.

"Hello?" he calls out, wondering if one of his comrades was also up and about. As he casually strolls towards the light, it flickers out again, before reigniting when he comes in range.

"odd…" he mutters to himself.

As the heat of the dryer cleans the fur on his hands, one of Ollie's ears perks up, as he hears the sound of footsteps outside the small lavatory. "I'll be out in a second!" he calls, hoping whoever is waiting didn't have to search quite as hard as he had.

"If I remember tomorrow, I should check that out and see if anything else is malfunctioning" he thinks. He is, at least sometimes, the responsible one of the crew. Finally, his wandering eyes catch sight of a sign, and he sighs in relief as he realizes his search has come to an end.

--

Paws still slightly damp, he hurries through the door, and gently closes it behind himself. Turning back around, adrenaline spikes in his veins as he finds his vision filled with a mass of ashen blue scales. A pair of digitigrade legs, each foot tipped with sharp, bony talons ten centimeters long. Behind them flicks a long tail, pale golden ventral scales underneath contrasting with the same blue as the creature's thighs.

He slowly lifts his vision, trying not to stare too hard at the slight bulge in the golden scales and wide hips sitting just above his eye level. The creature's torso is a mass of muscle and flesh, and nestled between her breasts sits a strange device, a grey half-sphere glowing with baleful blue light. Hoses run from this core, most punching down into the flesh of the creature, but as his eyes follow two of them up to its left where they join into a terrifying mess of metal and synthetic muscle. A prosthetic arm, though he considers that it may have simply been an "upgrade" to the flesh it once was, given how its construction speaks of pure violent intent. It ends in a set of three fingers and a thumb, each tipped with sharp, polished points, the whole hand larger than his head. The terrifying metallic claws of the creature's left arm, however, seem barely an upgrade when he compares to the equally terrifying fleshy right arm. The whole body is framed by massive blue wings, tucked neatly up against its back.

Finally, he looks up to the creature's head, crocodilian to a certain extent, with pale ivory horns protruding from a mane of blue hair. Piercing, lightning-blue eyes leer down at him, and a pale red tongue runs along her lips as she looks down, hungrily.

"h… hello." he stammers, before the creature's metallic claw wraps around his torso and lifts him three feet off the ground, slamming him painfully against the door he just closed.

"Hey there, little snack," The creature growls, a wicked grin splitting its lips, revealing two dozen vicious teeth, each three inches long. Pure terror shoots through his veins, and he screams, every molecule of air he can expend tearing out of his lungs in a desperate cry for someone to save him.

Be it through sheer bad luck or a cruel twist of fate, he can hear a fox's scream of pleasure echoing faintly back through the halls of the station.

"Shame," the beast laughs, "you'll need that breath to run." It whips around, hurling Ollie's limp body 15 feet down the hallway. He bounces and tumbles, and feels several of his ribs bruise from the impact. "Get to it, little meat,"

"Meat?" he thinks to himself, unsure if he heard correctly, before the creature's draconic maw speaks again.

"I need to work up an appetite before dinner."

Oh. He heard correctly, he realizes. She wants to eat him. His mind races, the thought that a fellow sapient would stoop to something so taboo. Sure, some sapients would give in to their predatory instincts, but even the most depraved raiders stuck to hunting non-sapient animals.

"What, did I break you already?" a laughing growl peals from the beast's throat.

He doesn't need to be prompted. He needs to get back to his crew. They have weapons there. Victor might be able to weave a spell to bring her down. Or he could just be leading the monster to them. To devour them all.

No time to worry about that though. He needs to run. Now.

His paws scramble against the metallic floor, struggling for purchase. After agonizing seconds he pushes himself up off the ground, tearing down the corridors of the station.

He takes the forks on instinct, first left, then right, right feels correct here; there's no sense of direction, he just has to hope that by some miracle these labyrinthine corridors don't come to a dead end, and that he doesn't end dead.

No such luck. One wrong turn, and he rounds a corner into a common area of sorts. A large window looks out over the infinte void of space, the peaceful horizon of Levin-3 turning carefree down below. It would be beautiful, if he were anyone else.

To him, all it spells is despair. He's trapped here, in this beautiful lounge, with a monster between him any anyone who could save him. He's going to die here. He's going to die and be devoured by some sort of unhinged dragon woman. He's going to die and then she's going to slaughter his crew and no one will ever find their bodies.

No. he's not given up yet. Though the beast's pounding footsteps echo distantly through the station, he might yet be able to hide. He takes a chance to look around, noticing several doors labeled "penthouse suite" around the corners of the room.

He picks one, and to his relief, it opens with a quiet hiss. He dashes through, and finds a button with a padlock icon on the other side. His paw slams into it frantically, and the door gently clicks behind him. The lights in the room turn on, revealing a dusty, but lavishly decorated suite. A couch, table, and entertainment suite are laid out in front of him, with a kitchenette occupying one corner of the room. Through another doorway, he spies a comfortable looking bed, equally lavishly furnished.

He just needs to stay calm, and hopefully that… thing… will leave him be. He doesn't want to think about what that means for his friends, but that's a problem for when he makes it out alive.

Agonizing minutes pass, and he can feel reverberations as the massive creature treads her way through the halls of the station.

Bile surges in his throat as exertion finally catches up to him, and he leaves a mess on the carpet as he retches. Recovering slowly, he tiptoes his way to the bedroom, tucking himself underneath the bed, behind the bed runner. It's sheer, and he can see the door through it, but it's as concealed as he can hope.

--

"Did I put enough distance between us? Did she lose my trail?" Oliver wonders to himself.

The motion sensor lights turn off in the room, and he realizes the station itself kept his trail, writ large in pale LED lighting. A single, heavy footfall shakes the floor, and he knows death awaits right beyond the door.

A surprisingly gentle knock breaks the silence, followed by a mocking falsetto growl.

"Room service!"

A momentary pause that could last a lifetime. A prey animal trapped in its own nest holds its breath desperately hoping against hope that his doom would turn her gaze elsewhere.

"Ah well, worth a try," comes the growl, taking cruel pleasure in its little joke.

Metal shrieks against metal as hardened steel talons punch through the door, tearing through the it like paper. Blue scales fill the doorframe, and the creature stoops to let itself in. It sniffs a moment, then wrinkles its nose at the small vomit stain on the floor. A low, throaty growl escapes its lips, as it scans the room.

Oliver's eyes fall upon it at the same time as the beast's. A clean trail of pawprints in the otherwise pristine carpet of the room.

The beast crouches down, taking its time to crawl towards the poor rabbit's hiding place. "I didn't know you thought of me this way," she croons as she steps slowly, deliberately towards the bedroom. Stooping again through the second doorway, it presses itself to the ground. It lifts the bed runner, making full eye contact with one terrified lagomorph. Her claw lashes out, filling his vision, metal fingers splaying around his ears. He feels crushing pressure around his skull, and wonders if this is the end.

It is not. She pulls him out from under the bed by his ears, pain shooting through his scalp, and he can feel something warm run down the back of his neck.

"nononoNONONO!" he screams and kicks as she lifts him slowly up off the ground, before forcing him down onto the bed. Not too long ago, he remembers dreaming of something similar with a certain vixen, but this is much less desirable. For the second time within the hour, a scream rips its way through his throat, hoarse and ragged.

The monster does not allow it to last. She climbs up onto the bed after him, its lightweight orbit-alloy frame cracking under half a ton of draconic flesh. Her claws wrap around his arms, and those terrifying jaws crack open impossibly wide. He tries to squirm, but his arms are held tight to his torso, leaving only his legs to flail helplessly against the air, while the beast lifts him towards her rows of flesh-rending fangs.

The deathly maw snaps forward, driving daggers into his arms and gut, forcing the last screaming breath out of his lungs. He shuts his eyes, not wanting to stare down the yawning throat that pulses and throbs, eager for meat. It is only when she takes another hungry swallow, teeth this time piercing his soft ass, that he realizes this monster has no intent to chew. Her tounge dances along his abdomen, and a growl of pleasure reverberates up through the throat around him. Wretched, hot air wafts up from within its throat as he feels its tongue play across his body, tip winding its way into gaping wounds, lapping at his freely flowing blood. The agony is exquisite, but he can only manage a tiny whimper.

Again, the creature swallows, her tongue slipping between his thighs to push him deeper down her throat, rubbing against a sensitive nub of flesh. He is cruelly reminded of a joke Shay made about "playing with her prey" when her tongue had been in a similar position earlier that night.

He can feel as his ears slip into her gullet, and his face is pressed firmly into the soft entrance. Another burst of adrenaline kicks in, and his whole body flexes and writhes, raging against the terrifying thought of being digested alive. His arms, now free of the claws holding them in place, desperately grasp at something, anything, that he might use to pull himself out. Too late he realizes his paw has grasped something bony and round. Murderous jaws once again slam shut around him, and his hand is quickly turned to a mangled, bloody mess as it is impaled between dragon teeth. Likewise, his writhing legs are stilled as daggers sever nerves in his thighs, before pressure builds and he can feel a femur snap beneath several tons of bite force.

Her prey now somewhat more subdued, the dragon tosses her head back, letting gravity aid in pulling this morsel down her throat. One leg hangs limply outside her maw, as the still living meat is hungrily dragged into her throat. The rabbit can't even feel as she wraps her tongue around that limb, and lazily drags it down with the rest of him, not a care given for the disfigured mass of flesh it has become.

The throat is crushingly tight around Oliver, but compared to the bite force he had just experienced, it feels downright gentle. Peristaltic motions pull him ever deeper, and he cannot help but whimper, knowing in his heart that there is no escaping now; only slow, agonizing death. As he whimpers, his body shakes, and tears fall from his eyes, mingling with the esophageal mucous surrounding him. The beast's gullet, ignorant to his misery, pulls him ever deeper.

He feels a gentle pressure against his head, which gives way as the esophageal muscles push him into a more open chamber. He gasps, and immediately regrets it. Painfully acidic fumes burn the sensitive inside of his nose, down his throat, all the way into his lungs. A moment later he opens his eyes, another immediate regret. The throat pushes again. His face is plunged into chemical soup, immediately searing his corneas blind. Now panicking in sightless darkness, he can't help but thrash wildly with what little strength he has left. He feels himself fall for a brief moment, and a weight lands on top of him. He realizes that he can't feel his legs anymore.

As he thrashes, he can hear that same rumbling growl from before, only now it emanates from all around him.

"Mmmmm… yeah. I should get rabbit more often…"

He can feel something pushing on the stomach walls, as the beast rubs her slightly swollen gut. To an outside observer, were it not for the occasional bump, it would be barely obvious that an entire sapient had just been tucked away behind those scales.

"Shouldn't have crushed his legs though… they'd probably feel real good kicking in there…" Impotent fury surges through his mind as Ollie realizes she's taking pleasure in his digestive demise.

"Let me out! You fucker!" he screams, his voice hoarse from his previous exertions, as well as the scouring acidic air of her guts.

"Hmmmm… Aww, does food not know its place?" the monster ackowledges him, pure cruel mockery in its voice.

"Why… We're both sapients… You're a monster…" he moans, delirium starting to set in from lack of air.

"Oh I'm aware, you're hardly the first delicious little morsel to call me that."

"You've gotta let me ou- glrk" the poor rabbit's voice chokes as cruel hands force him under gastric juices. Bloody chime quickly surges into his throat, violating his insides. His tongue feels slippery as it begins to melt, and he finds himself unable to speak as his vocal cords sear through.

"Oh, no, I've still got a whole meal to worry about before that…"

Muscular claws push down on the belly, and it clenches painfully around him. He feels burning inside his chest, and pressure outside. Something twitches, then gives. His ribcage collapses, crushing his heart. Sensation begins to fade.

"I wonder if Prin's caught anything yet…" the bunny hears, moments before hopping off the mortal coil.

[willow-j]

I'm going to ramble about Arcane for a minute, specifically about Ekko, because the more i think about him, the more unwell i get.

All the characters in Arcane are great, but i legitimately love Ekko more as i think about him. He's a cool skateboarding anti-establishment punk in the trust sense, in that he wants to build something genuinely good. We actually see him about as much as Jinx, from childhood to adulthood. They seem pretty close in age. They both lose everything, everyone important to them, friends and family, in one incredibly shitty night.

It's pure luck that Ekko isn't taken or killed by Silco or Marcus. And I'm pretty sure he knows this.

One of the best things about Ekko is how he changes the story in retrospect. To begin, the Firelights aren't anyone important. They harass Jinx and Silco, but seem more like just a vague, antagonistic force, another gang in a city full of them. To cement this impression, they all wear masks; we NEVER see a Firelight without their mask until Ekko.

Which is a hell of a thing. Masked villains are usually pure evil, or cannon fodder (or canon fodder, if you like puns). But looking back after Ekko reveals himself as their leader... there isn't a single death he doesn't react to. I thought it was strange, but humanizing, the first time i watched. With Ekko's reveal, it changes not just those deaths, but every death in the show. It's always a tragedy. No one is unmourned, even the enforcers. Violence always has a cost, even when it's the only choice. No one is expendable.

Every Firelight - masked antagonists - that Jinx kills is one of Ekko's friends. Being killed by his once best friend, Powder.

This fucking show.

[aujbabeyy]

i'm crying over the detail that was put into the mage tower in the underdark.

it's an absolutely tragic love story.

lenore de hurst is a cleric of mystra living in the mage tower. before you ascend to the roof, you can find and read four important books and papers. two, the threadbare book and the roads to darkness, are plays (rather, excerpts from plays). the other two are poems, one on a 'torn-out paper' and the other on a 'patched parchment'. quotes from these works earn you items or actions when you respond to bernard correctly with them.

based on the somber themes of the written works you encounter in the tower and how bernard responds to you (healing potion, a hug, "remember: you are loved, lenore. so much. you're doing great. and everyone will be so proud of you, as i already am.") you'll likely realize that lenore is... pretty lonely. two letters give more context to lenore's loneliness: the letter from amarith, found near some of the other works, and the letter to yrre, found outside the tower near the first arcane cannon.

the letter from amarith reveals that lenore's dog, myrna, passed away. after the death of her dog, lenore attempted to tame befriend a bulette (yes, the one you can use 'speak with animals' to talk with from the deep hole by the myconid colony). very "i'm lonely" behavior if you ask me. the letter to yrre reveals that lenore was, at one point, not alone in the tower, that her and her partner (yrre) split up for some reason, and that she wants to reconcile. I'm assuming that yrre left lenore some time (weeks? months? a year?) before myrna passed and that lenore wrote her letter to yrre some months (a year, maybe?) afterwards. i'm not sure which time-frame would make this story less tragic, but whichever it is... i hope it's that one.

also this... this is fucking sad, man. more magic was used than necessary to create this tombstone, out of nothing but sheer love for the creature buried there. oh my god my heart hurts.

the last bit about lenore that makes me want to sob: lenore and yrre, most likely, would have reconciled. yrre wrote back on the letter written for them to say that they waited, that they would always wait, and that lenore didn't come. the diary entry found in the basement of the mage tower indicates that lenore fully intended to return. lenore meant to come back to her research, to come back in hopes yrre would be there waiting for her, but something happened to her.

what happened?

one theory could be that the sussur flower and lenore's use of it was seen as a threat to mystra (it's noted in lenore's treatise that even those unattuned to the weave feel the anti-magic effect of the sussur flower) and she was punished for it. these events would have occurred nearly a decade before the events of bg3 (as noted in the diary). within the last year of game-time, mystra punished her chosen for attempting to reunite her with what he thought was part of her weave, lost to karsus' folly–without even telling him the orb's truthful origins. it would not be out-of-character for mystra to have punished a follower of hers for researching something that threatens her power. none of this is for sure, though, it's just a theory a game theory.

i honestly have no idea what happened to lenore and it pains my heart to not know. and what about yrre? they return to the tower to reconcile with their ex, only to find a note asking them to wait for her, that she'll be home soon. she never returns. where did yrre go? what did they do afterwards? i haven't finished the game yet but i really hope i end up finding some more lore on these two in act 3.

[beesmygod]

hey i'm way too deep on bloodborne and I wanna see queen yharnam. do you have any tips or tricks for beating the chalice dungeon amygdala? i swear the orphan of kos was easier than this

[crying] no

the stupid watchdog and defiled amygdala are the maddest i have ever been at a video game in my whole entire life. full tilt. like at least other hard bosses feel challenging and possible but those two are so fucking cheap.

i wound up having to do a fuck ton of grinding for bone marrow ash, bullets, and upgrade materials. took the cannon to +9, pumped it with damage blood gems, and then got into a pattern of slamming ash, blasting her directly in the head, and then slamming more ash until her head broke and i could move in for a visceral. this was dependent on her NOT JUMPING DIRECTLY ON MY HEAD. every guide says "oh just stand still/move toward her tail when she jumps :)" and it has literally never worked for me. but if all this went well, i could get her to half health. summon queen killer as bait as a last resort bc the hp boost she gets is agonizing

shes weak to fire, bolt, and arcane. its always worth it to use a buff. she does blunt and physical damage only so suit up for that.

good luck. i wish it were worth it. the yharnam fight is so good but the process of getting there is just too much and she feels like swatting a fly after amygdala. nightmare fight

[jennithejester]

Need (AU of Drink With Me (Arcane AU))

(Aka the giant head cannon that happened mere minutes after the authors inability to cope with her feelers after @ink-and-dagger wrote Chapter 14 of Drink With Me, a fan fic that has recently consumed many a Silco Simp soul on AO3…essentially parallel universe fluffy shit. Also affectionately called: KERBLOOEY, due to aforementioned head cannon.)

Pairings: Silco / Reader (yes that means you, you beauty - cough- Astrid - cough-) Words: 6,771

(PS. This was written in a fever-dream and had no editor or other set of eyeballs so please forgive any terrible typos and mistakes.)

On with the show…

——————————————————————-

Silco sat upon the floor, leaned back against the underside of his desk, in his office that was now partially destroyed. By his own hand, no less, he thought miserably as he fumbled through the mess surrounding him to find a cigar, its cutter, and his lighter. His hands froze as he hovered over the ashtray, he’d also moved to grab, when he’d noticed it was cracked in two. Jinx had decorated that, much like his coffee mug, as a gift years ago that he secretly cherished (or not so secretly by the eye-rolls for months Sevika had given him), and now here in his rage, he’d broken it. Frantically, he crawled up his toppled over desk to stand and searched his room before his eyes fell onto the mug…luckily still intact. He breathed an audible sigh of relief and sat down on the sofa and surveyed the room.

His office had seen its share of violence over the years, mostly in the form of the blood of someone who decided stupidly to cross him, but he’d really made a spectacular mess of things this time. Silco sighed and placed his head in his hands.

“A spectacular mess,” he repeated out loud into the quiet of the office, dejectedly, as his thoughts turned to you and not the physical destruction in front of him.

He carded his hand through his hair before the trimmed the cigar he still held, placed it in his lips, and lit it. He took a slow, long draw of it before slumping back against the sofa and closed his eye as he exhaled.

“I waited until the noise stopped,” a voice came from above him as he slowly opened his eye to see two blue ones staring down at him from within the rafters.

Silco watched Jinx then contemplate how she was going to get down with her usual landing spot, his desk on its side. She hung by her arms for a bit and stretched her long, lean form to touch her tiptoes on the side of drawers from the desk before lowering herself onto them carefully. She then sat cross-legged, still atop the desk drawers and leveled him with a glare.

“So?” She asked, expectantly.

“So?”

“So what the hell was this all about?” She asked him as her eyes narrowed a bit, knowingly.

“I’m sure you’re already aware. I seem to recall your telling—“ he stopped himself before he said your name out loud and then he started again, a frown upon his lips. “I’d heard you bragged once about knowing anything and everything that went on around here.”

“I’m asking you,” she parroted words he’d used with her not too long ago as she continued to glare at him.

Silco sighed. His entire body was sore and exhausted from the tantrum he’d thrown earlier. Yes, that was exactly what it was – a tantrum, he chided himself. He really wasn’t ready to deal with this now, especially with Jinx.

“Well?” She drawled impatiently as she crumpled up a piece of paper that was sticking out of the desk drawer and threw it at his head.

It didn’t miss.

“You’re too young for the subject matter of this conversation, Jinx. I really don’t think—“

“So she fucked that asshole Marcus once, so what?” She stated bluntly and watched her father’s face blush, a rare occurrence and her smirk did not hide her feeling of accomplishing pulling that out of him.

Silco paused, attempting to collect his composure and he took another pull from his cigar before speaking, “I was more than willing to forgive her for that dalliance. We all make mistakes, after all.”

“Forgive her?”

“Yes.”

“She did that before she ever even worked here, before she knew you and by the way I heard she tossed him out on his ass after he had the balls to flirt with her after you ended your meeting with him, I’m pretty sure there were no lingering feelings, Dad.”

Silco ground his teeth and seethed, anger boiling in him in the new knowledge that the interaction with Marcus had not ended within his office. Jinx watched as he angrily clawed his empty hand into the sofa’s leather.

“You’re still angry about that,” she stated a bit in wonder as she hopped off the desk and walked over to sit next to him on the more comfortable sofa. “Hmm, I wonder why?”

Her last sentence was said sagely, as if she knew something he didn’t. He scoffed.

“If you know that, you also know how she acts around the customers, flaunting herself out to them like, like a—“

Don’t you dare finish that sentence! He heard your voice in his head. Silco actually flinched visibly as if slapped and stopped himself from continuing.

“Like a very good bartender? Like someone who makes the assholes that make you money that come in here looking for a good time feel good about themselves to buy more booze and tip better? That’s all that is, you know that right? Her doing her job. It’s nothing to be jealous of cause its nothing like she is when she’s with you.”

Silco is quiet for a few moments as the ash from his cigar drops to the floor and he doesn’t seem to notice.

“It doesn’t matter, Jinx,” he said softly. “Not anymore. It apparently never did.”

Jinx’s mouth formed a frown and her eyebrows knit together in confusion as she watched her father slump deeper into the sofa, lean his head back, and close his eye.

“What happened between you two before you did this?” Jinx asked in a small voice that reminded him too much of Powder as he eyed her cautiously. “Walk me thru it.”

“Jinx,” he cautioned as he placed a hand on her shoulder, worried that an episode may have been creeping up on her as her eyes took on a distant look.

“Please. Tell me,” she implored and then gave him a pleading look with her big, blue eyes – one that she knew always worked on him — and he softened under her gaze.

So he did. He walked Jinx through it all and didn’t hold back any details, as badly as it painted him in that moment, but also with what he believed he’d gleaned in your revelation of how you were so very good about getting people to eat out of the palm of your hand. He didn’t leave out the part where you didn’t even bother, when he’d drawn his own conclusions, to tell him he was wrong. He’d even given you an opportunity to clarify things, but you’d refused.

Go fuck yourself, Silco. Drink alone.

When his tale was done, he’d found he wasn’t able to look Jinx in the eyes. A part of him knew in what had transpired between you both that Jinx was potentially also losing something, with as fond of you she had grown. When she was quiet too long, he looked back at her and she had tears in her eyes as she looked at him. Jinx suddenly flung herself at him and hugged him tight. He felt his arms coming up around her uncertainly before then tightening around her.

“You know,” she said with her face buried in his shoulder, “after I walked in on you two and I was…all weird…”

“Jinx, that wasn’t your fault.”

“I know. I know it was an accident. My point was tho that when <y/n> came over to check on me, I didn’t understand that at the time. I didn’t understand why she still wanted to be my friend, why she still cared about me. You know what she said?”

Silco pulled her back to look her in the face and he wiped some of the tears from her eyes, “What was that?”

“She said ‘You don’t quit on the people you care about just cause things get weird or tough’,” she said before she hugged him again, her face buried once again in his shoulder. “Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe someone like <y/n> could care about you?”

Jinx felt his arms stiffen around her and his entire body tensed. He then sighed audibly, “Jinx, this is why I didn’t want to go into this with you. Adults and their relationships can be…complex.”

Her crying stopped immediately and she pulled back to glare at him, “Why does everyone keep saying this to me like I’m an idiot? I’m a teenager, I’m not a little kid. I’m not dumb.”

Jinx proceeded to push off of him to stand and then pace the room as she continued, “Complex.” She rolled her eyes and her head rolled with it, a gesture learned directly from her father. “You know, when she came to see me that day I actually asked her if she wanted to be your girlfriend. You should have seen the goofball look on her face before she realized she made it. But, Dad, that’s not the reason I know why she cares about you—hell, I’m pretty sure she’s in love with you at this point.”

Silco didn’t realize he was sitting there with a gobsmacked expression on his face as she continued to ramble about you. His cigar, long forgotten about, fell out of his hands to the floor below, adding to the mess of the room.

“No, I know she does, come to think of it. She saved your life twice already and I mean — that was probably the least flattering picture I have taken of you ever and she still wanted to have it so she could have a picture of you when she wasn’t here,” she rambled on before her pacing came to a sudden stop, her lower lip beginning to quiver again, her voice coming out small and a whisper. “She wanted to be a part of our family, too. I know it. When I showed her that I had that photo of the three of us from dinner that night in my family album. Dad, the look on her face…”

I just want to find somewhere I belong, unconditionally.

Silco felt like he was going to be sick. He sat forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Could he have been that blind? He mentally replayed the moments between you both since the very beginning. In his anger when he’d done the same previously, his rage and insecurities had colored and read things into it that simply were not there. Through it all he always questioned your motives, wondering always what you wanted out of all of this. Could it have all been so simple? Could you really have just wanted him and to be a part of his and Jinx’s lives?

Why had the knowledge of Marcus and your dalliance bothered him so much? It was clear you didn’t even recall his name when you’d entered the room, making him meaningless to you. He should have seen that. Hell, you’d even dressed up that damned cocktail he’d asked you to prepare for Marcus with a bit of extra ridiculousness to poke fun at his Piltie guest just for his amusement, not for Marcus. He’d not even given you a chance before he shut you out that instant in his, what, jealousy?, he’d asked himself. Marcus was a younger man, good looking, unscarred. How could you want something like him when you could have anyone in the room?

You had called him handsome now multiple times.

In the last of the tender moments between you both, you’d even called him cute.

Was he really this insecure, he thought?

Jinx had come over to kneel in front of him without his realizing as he drowned himself in his thoughts and guilt. He looked up to meet her gaze when she placed a hand on his knee. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her father, the Eye of Zaun, look so lost and hopeless as he did in this moment.

“Oh, Jinx,” he started as he gently brushed a tear from her cheek. “What have I done? All this time I refused to see, to believe…”

“So fix it,” she said simply with a small smile of encouragement.

Silco shook his head though and stood to walk across the room, “I showed her the monster I truly am today, Jinx. She was terrified of me when she left, likely thinking I was going to have her killed in my fury.”

Jinx merely shrugged, “You wouldn’t have. Deep down I’m sure she knows that.”

“No, Jinx, you don’t understand. I did not hold back. I was absolutely cruel to her,” he began before she cut him off.

“Yeah, cause you were hurting.”

Silco didn’t have a retort to that.

“Dad, <y/n>’s not blind. She knew what she was getting in to the second she accepted my offer to work here, let alone when she started being friends with you. She knows the world we live in and she knows exactly what you’re capable of….good and bad. She wouldn’t have hung around if she wasn’t okay with all of it, you know that right?”

I like you just the way you are.

When did his daughter become so wise?

Jinx strode over to his coat rack (one of the few things he’d not destroyed in the room, he noted) and pulled his coat off of it and threw it at his head, unceremoniously.

“GO, right now, and go fix this. If she’s as scared as you said she was when she left here she’s probably a mess right now and I don’t want us to lose her. So GO!” Jinx said as she pushed him to his door, glass from the broken bottle and crystal tumblers crunching under his boots. “I’ll have Sevika and the boys help me get this mess fixed up while you go. Jeez, I thought I was bad.”

Silco put on his coat almost in a haze and descended the staircase to make his way out of the club. He felt Sevika’s eyes on him as he walked across the dance floor as well as another set of eyes – Jasper. They surprisingly both intercepted him before he reached the front door, which was barred, he’d noticed.

“Goin out?” Sevika asked as she crossed her arms and stood a bit in front of the door.

Silco narrowed his eye at her the flame in his corrupt eye flared a bit at her getting in his way, “Yes.”

“Before you go, you might want to think really hard before you do what I think you’re getting ready to do,” she said with a bit of warning and Silco noted that Jasper moved a bit closer to the door as well. “You don’t want to do this.”

“And what exactly do you presume I’m getting ready to do, Sevika?” He asked in a cold tone.

“She doesn’t deserve this. She didn’t do anything wrong and you know it,” she said quietly, surprising Silco a bit that she’d cared enough about you to defend you even to him.

His lip curled upward, ever so slightly, “I know.”

“You know as well as I do that what she—-wait, what? You know?” Sevika started and then her eyes widened, realizing what he’d said.

“Yes, and while I appreciate the fact that you and Jasper both care enough for her to try to protect her…even from me, I would like to at least try to undo what I’ve done quickly, Sevika,” he said as he moved to pull the bar from the door when Jasper’s large hand clamped down on it swiftly.

Silco’s eyebrow raised high on his head before his eye narrowed at the large bear of a man. Jasper himself swallowed hard, a bit surprised that he even did what he had, knowing Silco likely would have him killed for this level of disobedience. Oh well, if Silco was going to have him killed, better make it worth it. Forgive me my beautiful Max…

“I warned her for a long time that she was playing with fire with you,” he began as Silco eyed the door again and looked more annoyed than angry with Jasper as he waited. “But she shut me down so many times, the last one she practically yelled at me when she told me the reason why she kept coming back there was she actually cared for you…You don’t deserve her—“

“I know,” Silco interrupted and Jasper’s eyes grew large as he took the man in. “I need her, though…and I don’t need anything.”

Jasper paused for only a few seconds before removing the bar on the door himself.

“I’ll go with you,” Sevika began and continued when Silco acted like he was going to interrupt. “Barons have been acting up lately and just think of me as a backup. You get out of line with her, I can keep you in check. With your permission of course.”

Any other day he’d have loved to wipe that cheeky grin right of her face with a slap, but her words rang of truth too much for him to ignore, “Permission granted.”

—-

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, huddled on the floor against the wall with your arm held aloft, the flimsy kitchen knife within your hand, clanking as it shook. When no one came to crash let alone knock on your door after a considerable time, the reality of what had happened really began to hit you. You crawled your way back up the wall into a standing position, every inch of you shaking still, and then backed your way down the hallway, still keeping a leery eye on the front door. Eyes looked over to the blade you held within your hand and it seemed foreign and a bit pointless as you knew had he come for you or had he sent someone to take care of the problem (words you’d heard on his lips before, but never in regards to you) that this would never help.

The knife clattered as it was simply dropped carelessly to the floor.

As you stood in the doorway of your bedroom, still facing your apartment door, you realized how quiet it really was as you heard the thundering of your heart and your ragged breathing fill the silence. It was only then that you brought your hand to your face to realize you had tears that burned its surface. You didn’t even realize you’d been crying. The events of the evening, though, slowly began to replay themselves within your mind. Painfully, your conscious decided to start before the event with that Piltie sheriff scum, with the events in the back of the club when you and Silco were alone.

You remembered how he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough and would eat you alive if you’d only let him consume you. The vulnerability in his gaze at you, his reluctance to leave, his touch of longing and what you thought was something else, something deeper you had dared not label, after you had kissed him quickly before leaving…

Then you felt your throat constrict and your heart plummet on itself as you recalled his cool, ice-like gaze when Marcus revealed how you knew one another. How he’d never even given you a chance to discuss the matter before dismissing you. How you felt as he avoided you days after. Then that horrible argument in his office where in trying to make a point about the differences between what you did as a bartender and what he meant you, he’d misinterpreted and actually believed…

Silco thought everything you’d said to him, every touch, every moment, everything you’d ever shared together…was an act…was a lie.

Suddenly, you couldn’t breath as a strangled sound tried to clear your throat and you clutched at it and put a hand on the wall, attempting to calm yourself.

It’s the adrenaline. You’re fine. You’re okay.

This time though, his voice in your head only amplifies your constricted breathing. The burn of hurt that rises within you, realizing that you will likely never hear him talk to you like this ever again with the depth of caring he had in that moment, threatens to drown you and spots begin to form in your vision as you stagger back down the hallway towards the front door.

Breathe, you once again hear his voice press you.

When you reach deep down within your heart to try to find a reason to do so, you find it empty and you make a choking noise as you feel more tears burn your face. The most important people in your life were now all gone. You’d lost Silco. You knew it the moment you watched him unravel everything you’d built when he’d twisted your words within his mind and so easily convinced himself that everything you’d ever had with him was fake—an act on your part, a means to an end to gain something from him. The things he’d said to you were terrible and you were proud of yourself for not following Sevika’s advice and standing up for yourself. That didn’t make you regret how he interpreted what you’d said any less though. In losing him, you now realize, you’ve also lost Jinx and you honestly are surprised when you don’t hear the last bit of your heart physically shatter in that realization as what little oxygen you had been able to hold onto left your lungs.

Willingly, you let the darkness that creeps into your vision take you under as your body crumples upon itself limply onto the floor as you lose consciousness.

——

Silco didn’t know how long he stood outside your apartment door, unable to knock. He’d noted that it looked like you’d broken it in, pieces of the wood frayed and the lock completely off its hinge, likely having forgotten your coat back at The Last Drop when you’d left in a hurry, your keys within its pockets…afraid. Afraid of him. He placed his hand on his forehead, the guilt of the entire situation eating at him, before he racked his hand down his face with a sigh. He looked down the stairs at Sevika who was standing there impatiently, glaring at him from the landing below. She threw her hands up as if to say ‘well?’. He just narrowed his eye to her and glared before finally bringing his knuckles up to wrap on the door.

After several moments of complete silence, he placed his ear closer to the door, “<Y/n>?”

Still not one sound came from the other side of the door. Silco brow furrowed as he knocked again, louder this time and called your name again. He was once again greeted by complete silence.

Silco braced his shoulder against the side of the door and shoved a bit, “<Y/n>, I’m coming in. I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to talk.”

The door moved inward slightly, his realization that you must have blocked it with something when you destroyed the lock. He heard the noise of the table on the floor as he shoved the door open far enough to peek his head inside.

“<Y/n>?” He called into the room as he attempted to look for you with the limited view he had as he angled his neck to see.

Silco’s eyes fell upon you and his blood ran cold. You were crumpled on the floor in the hallway entrance, unmoving. He screamed your name again and you still remained still and he began to panic as he hurled his shoulder repeatedly into the door. At the noise, Sevika ran up the stairs to stop him.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” She hollered at him as she grabbed him by the shoulders to pull him back. “You’ll scare her to death trying to beat down the door!”

“Sevika, you have to help me get that door open! I can see her in there lying on the floor and she’s—I think she’s hurt, I just—I don’t know—“ Silco was in a panic and Sevika was trying to pick up on what he was saying as she then also stuck her head in the door and looked around. It was her turn to panic as her eyes widened at seeing you in a crumpled heap upon the floor.

“On the count of three,” a look of concern and sudden understanding was carved upon her face as she looked to Silco as she spoke and he nodded to her. The two of them rammed their shoulders against the frail door, splintering it as it moved further inward, enough for Silco to squeeze thru as Sevika worked to open it more fully still.

Almost tripping over himself attempting to get around the door and the items stacked against it, he hurried over to your side and turned you gently to face him as he knelt down on the floor beside you. Your face was pale—too pale he noted—as he ripped off his glove with his teeth to feel for your pulse at your neck, his eye closing as he almost thought of praying to whatever gods would listen that he found a beat beneath his fingertips. When he felt your heartbeat, a shuddered sigh escaped his lips and he pulled you to him and called your name, his voice breaking a bit.

In your mind you felt your body being moved and heard a muffled voice call your name. It felt like you were underwater and someone was trying to pull you out of its depths. You didn’t want to leave this place. It was safe here, peaceful, within the warm depths you found yourself in as you felt like you were sinking deeper into the water’s velvet embrace. The voice was growing louder though, more persistent, and the hands that had moved you, you could feel tighten around you, pulling you closer and closer to the surface. The warmth of the water and peace disappeared, replaced by cold and a feeling of fear and dread. You could now feel you were in someone’s arms. One hand felt the cold of the kitchen flooring while the other felt clothing curl within its fingers and a warm body beneath. The scent of cigars, whiskey, and cologne filled your nostrils.

His cigars, his whiskey, his cologne.

Silco, your mind remembered, reverently at first.

Silco! It shouted and screamed at you as the events leading up to now hit you with enough force to have you let out a manic scream.

Strong arms held you from thrashing about as you flailed recklessly, wanting to get away from what held you as your eyes flew open and you gasped. Wild eyes darted unfocused as you pushed and bucked and eventually did break free of his embrace and scooted backwards across the floor to the opposite wall of the hallway. You were gasping, the raw burn as air filled your lungs and your vision came to focus on the man in question, sitting on his knees on the floor of your apartment. His hands were extended to you like he was approaching a wild animal with caution, a look of worry actually etched within his features. His mouth moved, your name upon his lips, but it still felt far away in your head.

“No! Get away from me!” You shouted at him, sweeping your arm in between the two of you as if to usher him away. You wished you could stop the tears from falling from your eyes, burning your cheeks. You hated that they escaped. You hated that you seemed weak in front of him like this.

“<Y/n>,” Silco softly said, his voice now coming thru the haze in your mind clearly. “I’m not here to hurt you, <Y/n>. Please calm down, sweetheart.”

Movement out of the corner of your eye had you darting to look to the front door where you saw Sevika pushing your kitchen table back into place and leaning the door, now almost completely off its hinges, back into place as best she could. When she turned back and locked eyes with you, you were almost surprised at the concern and genuine compassion you found in her normally chilled demeanor. Unfortunately, your present mindset interpreted this to mean something very different from its intent.

“You even came to help him finish me off,” a foreign, hoarse voice escaped your lips that you didn’t recognize as you watched Sevika’s eyes widen and she shook her head.

“No, no its not what you think—“

“I don’t have to think,” you shrink back even further against the wall, balling up your knees to your chest as your entire body shook in fear. “I was once told I’d know ‘swiftly and with absolute certainty’ if I had displeased him.” Your eyes locked on Silco’s. “I knew the moment I turned that glass over I’d signed my life away.”

Silco’s expression stayed stoic and unwavering as he felt Sevika’s eyes on him, pleading for him to say something, anything to you to assure you that’s not why either of them had come to your apartment.

“Sevika, if you would be kind enough to give us a moment alone,” he said without breaking eye contact with you. When Sevika began to protest, he merely held up a hand, eyes still locked with your own, “If you hear anything out of sorts and find I’ve stepped out of line, you have my permission to come back in here and kill me. Understood?”

You shook your head, surely you heard him wrong.

“Understood,” Sevika nodded curtly, eyeing you once before making her way back out of your door as she propped it back into place once again and stood on the other side.

It grew quiet in the room, your shaky breaths the only sound between the two of you. He once again attempted to reach out to touch you and you gave a slight gasp and shrank away, his hand falling defeatedly at his side. His brow then knitted in confusion as he looked you over from head to toe. Confusion morphed into concern within his eyes as you watched him like an animal being hunted.

“How did you get on the floor?” He asked and oh his voice was so very gentle in this moment.

“I…” you began and then looked around in confusion. How did I end up here? You’d remembered running home from the club, kicking the door in, blocking it up and then grabbing the knife. You recalled sitting down for a while as you waited your impending doom, worrying any second the door would be busted down by someone sent to seal your fate…and it never came. And then…

…oh. Oh, yes, you remembered now.

“I…must have…I must have passed out,” you said in a voice smaller than you’d intended.

“Passed out?”

Your heart was in your throat, “Hyperventilated, I suppose.”

Silco was painfully reminded of the evening the lights went out at the club. The terror you both had felt and how you’d had difficultly recovering. He was there then to help you through it. You watched as he closed his eye and hung his head.

He wasn’t there to help you this time, he came to a realization that had his heart clenching in his chest.

Not only was he not there, he was the cause of it.

“You need not fear me, <Y/n>,” he began as he looked up into your eyes. “Contrary to what you may think and what my actions earlier may have given you ideas on, I…I would never hurt you.”

Indignant anger rose within your throat, spilling out in words upon your lips, “But you did, Silco. You don’t have to physically harm me to hurt me. What you said to me…what you accused me of… And then you thought—what?—that you could just have a drink with me and it’d be all better? No questions asked? No truths actually spoken about what the fuck this was all about to begin with?”

Your anger boiled within your veins, energizing you as he listened, still attempting to keep his stony expression held, but you knew him well enough to see the flicker of panic at the edges of his mouth and eyes.

“Do you have any idea what I lost tonight?” You finished as you held your arms around yourself, still shaking with anger and possibly shock setting in again as you could feel your throat once again closing in on itself.

“Sweetheart, its not been tonight for a long while. Its late afternoon,” he corrected before he could stop himself as you looked at him confused again, time lost when you’d passed out. Concern for you flitted briefly in his gaze before he once again schooled his expression. How long had you been passed out on the floor, alone? Awkward silence descended between you both when he never responded to your question and merely waited for you to continue.

“When I walked out of that club not only had I lost my job, but I lost everyone I cared about: several good friends, a girl I admittedly care for, not only like a best friend but also like a daughter if I really was to put a label to it, and I lost—“ you stopped, tears you swallow catching your voice in your throat, “I lost the most important person in my life—I’d lost you. I lost the only sense of a real family I’ve ever had in my entire life when I walked out of there.”

“You should have stayed.”

“YOU FIRED ME!” Your voice rang angrily within the apartment, echoing off the walls a bit.

“<Y/n>—“

“YOU THREW THE GLASSES AND BOTTLE AT MY HEAD!”

“It was never meant to hurt you—“ his own voice raising over yours.

You moved to stand on shaky legs as he almost maneuvered to help you up before he stopped himself, “HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW ANY OF THAT?! I ran out of there thinking you were going to come after me or send someone to kill me! You’d treated me like I was NOTHING, Silco! NOTHING! You took my words and I watched as you twisted them up in that head of yours and actually believed everything that ever happened between us. Every word we ever said to one another, everything we ever shared, every touch, every kiss, every—-”

Before you could finish, he suddenly moved and wrapped you in his arms in a forceful embrace. You struggled against him a few moments but he held his iron grip on you as he attempted to try to get you to calm. You struggling subsided after several moments and you moved to place your forehead to rest against his shoulder. When he felt you were not going to fight him anymore, only then did he move his arms in a comforting motion across your back several times before sliding up to your shoulders and pulled you back so he could look into your eyes. Stubbornly, you kept your gaze down to his shoulder.

“<y/n>?” He began in a soft voice. “Please look at me, <Y/n>.”

With a sigh, you looked up and locked his gaze before he spoke again.

His hands moved up to frame either side of your face, swiping the drying tears from beneath you eyes before he spoke with words you knew to be foreign on his tongue, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting to react how I did when Marcus…” his voice trailed off with the mention of the sheriff’s name. “And then when I saw you with that customer later, I—I just —I know you’re a good bartender. I know making the patrons feel good about themselves is part of the job outside of knowing how to make a good drink. I know all of this and my mind chose to ignore the reality of the situation.”

“The situation?” You asked as you backed slightly away from him. “So I’m your situation now?”

“No, that’s not at all what I’d meant.”

“Than what are you getting at here, Silco? I feel like I’m right back at the beginning of the conversation at your office.”

He paused as you watched him mentally search for the words to express himself. Silco was never a man at a loss for words and a small part of you – the part that was still very much angry with him and hurting—delighted a bit in watching him squirm.

“I…” he trailed off, apparently unable to know even where to begin with his apology that you felt he was attempting at least.

You decided to help him along, “Answer a question for me.”

“Anything.”

“You asked me once why I kept coming back,” you began as you watched him prepare himself for what he knew would be a difficult question. “I’d like to know why you wanted me to come back. What is this,” you gestured between the both of you,”to you? What am I to you, Silco?”

The same look of vulnerability and confusion that you’d recalled he’d had in his office when he’d received your answer to this same line of questioning crossed his features. Silco didn’t understand how, after all this time, you didn’t realize your worth to him, where he’d thought all along you’d known that he’d been attempting to show you in the ways he knew how. Perhaps you were both even more alike than he’d thought. Perhaps his guarded nature had gotten the best of him and he hadn’t shown you enough, told you enough. He decided once and for all to ensure that he never had to set the record straight again.

“You are the most important person in my life,” the answer came simply and repetitive of her words to him one drunken evening where truths were whispered In the haze of the cigar smoke in his office.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his words washed over you like a warm balm. Your brows furrowed then, “If that were true than why would you ever think to accuse me of what you had? Why did you react like that?”

Silco was quiet for a long moment, his face once again unreadable as several emotions crossed across it all combating for dominance before he finally spoke, “You give off a radiance that I’ve never known from anyone. Your beauty goes far beyond your features and deep into your very soul, <Y/n>. You could have anyone. Anyone.”

You watched him as you held you breath and he paused once again for a long moment before he continued, your heart thundering in your chest like it would burst any moment at his words, “I suppose I still don’t understand or cannot believe that you’d want me. I warned you once I was a monster. You’ve seen that now. Seen every side of me there is. I don’t deserve you, <Y/n>.”

Your heart broke a little with his words. All this time the both of you had held your truths close to your heart, never voicing what you meant to one another and now this happened and here you both were after days filled with fear and misunderstanding. Much like Silco, you also did not want him for one moment to not know what you meant to him so you walked over to him and place your hands on his chest. His larger hands came to wrap around your own.

“I may not have been entirely honest with you once,” you began as you felt him stiffen beneath you and you squeezed his hands to attempt to reassure him and your lips formed a wry grin. “I didn’t lie to you, but I didn’t speak the whole truth because I was too afraid to even voice it to myself.”

You paused and swallowed hard, trying to sum up the courage to say what you know he needed to hear, what you needed to voice what you’ve known was in your heart for some time now. You felt his hands squeeze your own in reassurance this time, feeling your difficulty with whatever it was you were about to tell him. You brought your gaze back up to his own, back into his jade and orange depths that you could drown within, willingly.

“I kept coming back because I love you.”

[cephalopod-celabrator]

Kobolds are my favorite D&D humanoids. Let's discuss. First, they aren't even really that evil. Like sure, they don't give a fuck about anyone else, but when you don't stand a chance in a fight against a singular badger, you can't really afford to. They aren't malicious and what cruelty they do have is tempered by their practicality and survivalism. Evil is often innefficient and kobolds, while dumb, wouldn't be around if they weren't efficient. They won't hurt people if they might face serious reprisal for it, and they will literally sacrifice themselves for the good of the colony. They serve chromatic dragons and Tiamat, but frankly that relationship feels abusive and manipulative and the kobolds have just been stockholmed into it. Second, they're dumb but not dumbasses. Kobolds aren't stupid because they don't value the concept of intellect like orcs. Kobold brains are just literally not made for big thoughts. The smartest among them have the intelligence of an average human. Yet despite this, they have countless engineers and inventors among them, although they mostly focus on building traps and expanding their lairs. They are also one of the least arcane magic fearing species in D&D, despite the fact most of them are too dumb to use it. If they had average intelligence and access to arcane resources, they could raise a generation of god-killing archmages. Third, their underdogs, especially when it comes to their god. Kobolds are fragile, weak, and dumb, yet they perservere. And they have no real patron deity. The god of kobolds is imprisoned underground and the Tiamat doesn't seem to give a genuine shit about the kobolds besides as cannon fodder. Kobolds have no clerics, no divine aid. Even the goblins have an active god and a higher up god who at least sort of cares about them. The kobolds don't have anyone and don't need anyone. And you may be asking: what about goblins? aren't they like kobolds? no they aren't. Kobolds want to be left alone so they can thrive, goblins want to prey on others. Both are pathetic and weak, but the goblins are more illogically cruel and less inventive. Also mammals are a lamer aesthetic than reptiles. If any other species had the mindset of kobolds, they'd run the world. Besides, how could you hate these guys?

[bells-of-black-sunday]

♚ Do you agree with fandom interpretation of your character? <- Danny

♧ Any part of their canon portrayal you dislike? <- Viktor

✎ What do you wish the author would reveal/had revealed about your muse? <- Baby girl

✍ Has new canon material ever forced you to adjust your headcanons? <- Legion

❀ Share a headcanon you have not shared. <- Anyone!

Munday | Accepting

♚ Do you agree with fandom interpretation of your character? <- Danny

Danny I feel like gets put into the same box a lot of villains that are just a tiny bit goofy get shoved into where he's treated like he's stupid, incompetent, overly friendly towards people he shouldn't (like survivors), etc. etc. And don't get me wrong, I love dumb memes and funny posts, but it really rubs me the wrong way when it's dragged into serious writing. He is a man that are bare minimum that we know of has killed at least 30 people without being caught. That isn't something that cute or funny or sweet, that is horrific.

He is not a nice person, he is far from a good person and no matter how much people try to baby him because his dad groomed him into being that way he will forever be a monster who destroys lives and communities for the fun of it. To him it's just another story, but to the families he is a man who took away their world. Imagine the parents he's killed? What are those kids going to do?

It's just an issue I see constantly whenever I go into his tag or any other s.lasher tag for that matter. People try to bend these characters to be the ideal partner for them and it's super weird to me. Especially when it's people being like "oh well ghosty mains in game are goofy and fun so that means he's just like that in lore".

♧ Any part of their canon portrayal you dislike? <- Viktor

I honestly don't have an issues with League lore when it comes to him, I really enjoy the way he's written and the way you have to pick out what he's lying about and what he isn't by reading Jayce's lore and stories too. That being said:

Arcane I love as a series, but I wish it would've let Viktor have the ideals he does have in League I think it would've helped with the way the fan base of it really tries to baby him and treat him like he's a poor innocent baby that can't do anything on his own. But I can't really say too much until we do get to the point where he does become the herald and the falling out between him and Jayce.

✎ What do you wish the author would reveal/had revealed about your muse? <- Baby girl

I honestly am dying to know what exactly what happened between him and Vittorio, because they went from Italy, to Spain and all the way to Portugal on horse back where u have to follow water ways because horses need a lot of water, so they were around each other for probably 6 months minimum and in that time they went from being fine to Tarhos fucking despising him and everything he stands for because he's asked to find another way. I don't know sounds like bitter exes to me-

✍ Has new canon material ever forced you to adjust your headcanons? <- Legion

Oh definitely. The legion are already so inconsistent in lore that with every new cosmetic flavor text I feel like I have to alter something. Like before I knew tomes existed I thought it was only Frank who was murderous, because that's how it's framed, but in their tome as funny as it is a lot of hat they did was Julie's idea. She came up with the idea, named them, even suggested they break into Joey's work which got them to murder that janitor and even flat out asks Frank if he thinks he could kill someone and isn't happy with his answer when he says no.

I feel like wit hthe comics coming out soon (I have mine pre-ordered 👀) it'll make me at least have to pick and choose what I consider cannon like I already have to with their lore anyway, because again it's so inconsistent. You literally have cosmetics calling Susie a sophomore, but the devs saying they're all 18-21. It's that inconsistent.

❀ Share a headcanon you have not shared. <- Anyone!

Because we talked about it on discord: Yijun would ABSOLUTELY sell alpha male courses, he doesn't believe a single fucking word the sells, but oh my god if it doesn't get him attention and make him money. The demon knows what he want you can't fault him for that.

[essektheylyss]

✨ favorite spell & 🗺️ favorite location!

favorite spell: I have come up with like. seven faves within ten seconds, but I do really love Widogast's Web of Fire, which is very underrated but it's such a fun concept for being a pretty targeted evocation spell, when a lot of those (especially at high levels) are general AoE.

Also, Arcane Gate! That spell is CLUTCH when used in the right hands (and the right hands are absolutely those of Travis Willingham lol, king of battlefield mobility).

favorite location: this one is honestly harder, good lord; Darktow is probably number one, and can someone PLEASE get me specs on that anti-aircraft cannon they're building. Aeor is so great for similar "please show me the arcane infrastructure Matthew Mercer" reasons.

(Plus obligatory Bazzoxan mention, because god I love that fucked up little hellmouth.)

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Learning to Live (And to Die)

by lixar

A Caitlyn Kiramman Struggles through a world of both failures and successes - but in her world, that could mean life or death. Going from a... mainly ordinary kid to a crime-fighting vigilante is stressful, and so is navigating a world that wants to see her fail, both as herself and her crime-fighting persona - but that's boring, we want the good stuff!

So, we find our Caitlyn in the midst of an intense battle... against one guy armed with a Draco. Riveting, I know.

Words: 1993, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021), Spider-Man - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, Other

Characters: Caitlyn (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends), Viktor (League of Legends), Mel Medarda, Vi (League of Legends), Jinx (League of Legends), Vander (League of Legends), Marcus (Arcane: League of Legends), Silco (Arcane: League of Legends), Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Finn (Arcane: League of Legends), Ekko (League of Legends), Firelights Members (Arcane: League of Legends), Grayson (Arcane: League of Legends), Cassandra Kiramman, Tobias Kiramman, J. Jonah Jameson

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends)/Mel Medarda

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Gun Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Spider-Man Fusion, Ruger Marlin 1895 Guide, Sig Sauer P210, Colt Python - Freeform, Glock 17, 's, Caitlyn and Jayce are Siblings (League of Legends), Autistic Caitlyn (League of Legends), Caitlyn Needs a Hug (League of Legends), and a break, Jayce is a Menace (League of Legends), he's also a man-whore, Flashbacks, Everyone Needs A Hug, some people die, Shimmer (Arcane: League of Legends), Drug Addiction, Cannon-Typical Classism, Cats, Caitlyn Get's A Cat, Eventual Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends), Spider-Cait, She's fucking spider-man what else do you want from me ???, Stay Strapped or Get Clapped, Cait's a Photographer, just like... btw, Jonah Jameson isn't as mean in this, He's Loud Though

from AO3 works tagged 'Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)'

[drindrak-art]

Been a while since my last Arcane AU, huh? Lol, enjoy this mess I've tentatively titled Chempunk Atrocities.

--

Anyway starts off big AU territory - Jinx never fires Fishbones at the council building.

Oh, she was poised and ready to, but she falters at the last second, with Silco's words echoing around her mind, because she's crying and she shouldn't cry, she's perfect.

Jinx ends up running off into the Undercity, even as Vi calls out for her to come back.

K, so, another au bit - i headcanon Renata and Silco as having at least met one another (if not done more *eyebrow wiggle*), and Silco exchanged quite a few favours and scrapped shimmer formulas with Renata. And one of those was that, should he die, Jinx was to be taken care of, and not in the most permanent way.

So, Jinx, running on adrenaline and guilt and grief, runs for a safe and familiar place - one of Silco's hideouts. She'd avoided The Last Drop with everything she had because for sure stepping into that place would have fucked her up even worse.

She hides away and buries her feelings by tinkering and building and inventing - but she doesn't leave the hideout and she doesn't heal.

No one's sure if she's even alive anymore by this point. Not even Jinx is sure she is alive.

But then Renata kicks down the door to the hideout and drags Jinx back out into the undercity, into the new nation of Zaun.

A nation that needed a leader, as Silco was dead and keeping that secret would only last so long.

The nation needed a figurehead, needed someone strong to run it, and Jinx fit most of the profile the ChemBarons were searching for.

Daughter of the last leader, ridiculously strong, and feared throughout both Zaun and Piltover.

And with Piltover dropping any charges against Jinx, for the sake of a peaceful transfer of power to Zaun, she was their best bet.

Only, everyone knows that Jinx isn't exactly stable.

But her stability had nothing to do with this, or so Renata claims.

After all, Jinx would have to have some sort of council, some sort of sounding board, and who better than the ChemBarons already in power? They would hold the real power. Jinx would just look like the leader. A true figurehead, in all the ways it mattered.

Anyway, queue Jinx being forcibly shoved into her father's shoes, forced to lead a country she had no qualms about sending to war mere months before, and it only makes her mental state worse.

The pressure of the ChemBarons weighs heavily on her shoulders, cracking her already fragile psyche.

And the worst part is that they made their pressure seem like something Silco would want - they play on her grief and rage and hurt, all to line their pockets more.

And Renata. Renata is, somehow, even worse. Her words drip with a poisoned honey, much like Silco's had, and she sets herself into an almost motherly role to Jinx, all while understanding that this is only going to make Jinx irrevocably worse.

Renata pulls and pushes and takes - but she rarely gives.

And Jinx, who would have garnered the nickname of the Loose Cannon and who would have healed at least somewhat from her fathers death had she been left alone for just a little longer, craves for more.

She needs those fragments of praise and acknowledgement, even when she understands, fundamentally, that Renata is merely using her to further her own goals.

And just when Jinx feels like she's drowning in a sump of her father's and Renata's creation, when she feels herself beginning to give more than she has, Piltover comes knocking with an invitation for the High Baron Jinx - but no one else.

A fancy Piltie party, to celebrate two whole years of Zaun's freedom.

And Jinx accepts. Because to not accept meant she was snubbing those snobbish pilties who gave her nation freedom, and that might make them revoke said freedom.

Oh, Jinx would make them fight for it, but even she knows that being the High Baron has only weighed down on her - Jinx would lose. She would lose pretty much any fight that came her way nowadays.

Because what was the point of winning? She'll just end up back in this too clean office, breathing its too filtered air and begging for scraps of attention and praise from her.

Even death was preferable to this.

Maybe, being away from all this would clear her head a bit.

Maybe, it might help her live again.

[cerastes]

1 and 4 for Whole questions!

1. Why did they pick their first class/job? What about the job they main now?

In the game's timeframe, Alkelda's first class was Lancer, but before that, back in the Steppes, she was already intimately familiar with the craft of the Conjurer and the Thaumaturge. The reasoning for Lancer was that she wanted to move away from her scholarly world for a second and travel with the express intent of accumulating knowledge and experiences, not only those extrinsic to her, like dangerous ruins and mysterious swamps, but also those intrinsic to her, such as mastering arts most martial as well as arcane. A spear is like a staff, after all, except worse, because it doesn't shoot rocks or fireballs and you have to stab with the pointy end instead, but still familiar enough.

Nowadays, Alkelda favors the Reaper and the Black Mage arts. To be a Black Mage means to commune plenty with the Voidsent, and in the end, Alkelda's scholarly background is her heart of hearts, so she was experimenting with some portal theory one day, trying to augment her arcane might by finding worthy Voidsent opponents to fight, a methodology known among men and women of science as the tried and true "Fuck Around And Most Definitely Find Out" method, when a most peculiar one came out, and what it didn't have in sheer size and potency, it more than made up in cunning and pulchritude. Curiosity killed the Xaela, so goes the saying, but this particular Xaela had Manaward and a chin that can take hook, so it was fine, and after a drawn out slobber knocker in which they dragged each others' faces across every surface in a 10 yalm radius and did every conceivable super move and air combo on each other multiple times over the course of an entire season finale's worth of time, Alkelda and the Voidsent ended up striking a deal, seeing opportunity and kickasstitude in each other, and that's how she also ended up harnessing the skillset of a Reaper.

4. What’s their alcohol tolerance like? (if they drink)

Alkelda is certainly an avid, but private, drinker. You're unlikely to find her making merry at a tavern with flagon and mutton chop at hand. She prefers drinking fine wines in the comfort of her home, or with trusted people. She's got a high alcohol tolerance, but also is very susceptible to its effects, and she's an affectionate drunk, so she considers it in her best interest to not embarrass herself in front of a crowd. She's not at any risk of blacking out, but she is at a very real risk of telling someone she loves them and appreciates them more than they could possibly understand after a few finely aged brews from Ishgardian casks (her favorite), which is a fate worse than the most torturous of agonizing deaths. She found out about this way back in the day, back when she still was a Hotgo scholar in the Steppes. There was this 'game' where they'd take the usually composed, tricky Alkelda and get her drunk, which would make her sing the praises of everyone in the room. It was usually followed by "impromptu sparring sessions" and "ambush prevention training" the next day (read: Alkelda gives you bonkus of the konkus with a large metal rod if you're lucky, and Stone IV if you're not)

The sole exception is before, during or after a particularly dangerous and exciting battle/expedition. In the end, as much as she tries to keep it on the low down, Alkelda has a side of her that's an adrenaline junkie, so a good flagon of mead before going into what's likely to become one of the most exciting passages in the next of many books she'll write is a welcome notion, love and mirth seared in her mind as she faces the barrage of magitek laser fire from Garlean cannons in Zadnor head on.

[eye-of-yelough]

woe, numbers be upon you (for the dark urge questions) 1, 3, 4, 11, 13, 16, 21, 25, 30

WOWIE YOU SPOIL ME. THANK YOU

For context in case you or anyone reading this don’t know, Aeryn is an oc i’ve had since looong before bg3, he’s basically a self insert (except he’s isn’t, at all, because we have very little in common) who is my go-to guy to play as in video games. his personality, appearance and all that was all already in my head so. idk some things might not sense because i bend little things here n there to make him more like he is in my head.

ANOTHER thing is that i initially created this guy for the soul purpose of like. tortureporn. just a little meow meow for me to force all of sad horny little edgelord impulses onto with the hope that if i put it all into one character, i wouldn’t do it as much with my others. and then he kinda just evolved from there as i got more invested in him. but he’s still that tortureporn deep down so that’s why there’s So Much going on with him. just thought i’d warn ya.

1) What circumstances led to your durge picking their class/subclass?

Aeryn’s a level 8 “the great old one” warlock/level 4 “gloom stalker” ranger. for warlock, well. the thing you need to know about Aeryn is that he is. very pathetic. i always play him as a glass cannon. he likely wasn’t living up to Murder Daddy’s ambitious expectations for him as being the ultimate killing machine, so he made a deal for an arcane edge. as for gloom stalker urban ranger well. it’s the dark urge.

3) what would your durge consider to be their greatest skill? is this accurate?

seduction, and no. he is off-putting and desperate and only certain people find that charming. i’d say it’s his love. his empathy.

4) what would your durge consider to be their greatest flaw? is this accurate?

just… all of it. the Urge, the rampant sex addiction, (by extension, the need for people to find him physically attractive, that’s so strong it stops him from physically or socially transitioning, which leads him in this weird purgatory, flitting from girlmoding to boymoding depending on he wants to gain sex or respect from a social situation. suffice it to say, no one ever knows what to make of him.) desperate pathetic clingyness and people pleasing borne from a life of profound isolation and rejection, the fact that he’s so so so scared all the time. and, yeah. i’d say that’s pretty spot on.

11) what motivates you durge to either embrace or resist the urge?

fear. love. both ways. he never embraces the urge, never. not deep down, at least. he spends the whole span of the game trying to resist. he’s just… not very good at it. his vibe has always been that “as if it’s my fault my love language is acts of service and all i know how to do is kill” post.

13) how does your durge feel about killing?

horny. jokes* aside, Aeryn is um. more than a little suicidal if i’m being honest. (bear with me) and memory-fucked as he is, that feeling alongside the urge is all he really knows. the belief that life is nothing but one painful disappointment after another is his soul consistent trait. he honestly doesn’t know that life can be more than that. he also doesn’t know that others don’t feel the same. so that’s essentially how he keeps his guilt and shame on a leash. cant be guilty about killing if you see it as an act of mercy.

*it wasn’t a joke at all.

16) what is your durge’s greatest desire?

now this is one i’ve thought about. basically his perfect life would be as the right hand man (executioner or perhaps assassin) and lover (pet) of a great leader who supplies him with many shitheads and sorry bastards to take out his murderous urges on. and have whoever that leader is give him a pat on the head and tell him he’s doing a good job :) and they fuck scary style. (minthara hiiiiii) (yes i am a durgetash exes truther why do you ask)

21) what are two to three songs your durge would relate to?

so glad you asked.

stupid girl by garbage is Thee Signature Aeryn Song to me.

something rotten by placebo

and, as much as i hate to recommend a song by the worlds evilest band, this hurts by msi.

25) how does your durge feel about Sceleritas Fel?

conflicted. he’s like a mascot for his dark urge, and his arrival always means the worst. and yet, he just can’t not fall this silly little freak’s charms.

30) what are your durge’s intentions/goals at the end of the game?

this would be easier to answer if i knew what his canon ending was, but i don’t. i just finished my first ever playthrough earlier today, where he rejects Bhaal and the emperor and becomes a mind flayer and i can safely say that’s not it. (i romanced lae’zel, realised aeryn would be better suited with minthara around the end of act two, and came to the conclusion that this is not his canon run, so i’m just gonna do what feels right and whatever happens, happens) i’ve watched a few videos of the accept bhaal’s gift -> kill the netherbrain -> kill yourself or go crazy and piss yourself ending (which is so unsettling and i really shouldn’t have watched it at 5am) and its REALLY good but. yeah i don’t know.

thanks so much again for asking and letting me talk about my wretched thing. kisses

[8one6]

Background from an old game:

Basically the "good necromancer/bad necromancer" divide comes down to intent, execution, and public opinion. In the long past it was all seen as bad until a local government got desperate enough during a war to legalize it "for the good of the nation," which gave the College of Strategic Means a chance to put into public practice what a not insignificant number of their members were already studying (lichdom being the secret goal of a lot of powerful mages at the time.)

They played up the usefulness of the art, made national heroes of the necromancers who saw any success on the battlefield, and claimed responsibility for victory when the war was won.

More importantly they publicly laid to rest any undead who started as a member of the nation and returned the bodies or destroyed (most) of the undead made from enemy troops.

From there most nations legalized it (mostly to close the 'zombie gap') and its mostly treated like any other magical area of study, taught by the College of the Arts, regulated by the Guild of Arcane Ways, etc.

A bad necromancer is like a bad fire mage or a bad earth mage or a back alley body mage. Someone who is irresponsible with their powers is "talked to" by the guild,then "dealt with" if they keep fucking up publicly.

Zombies are front line cannon fodder in most conflicts. The winning side can basically snowball the effect of a win into huge forces. Non-military undead are mostly cleaned up skeletons (because they're way less gross) put to taks for either really repetitive or really dangerous work. Judges can sentance criminals to "death plus 500 years" and things like that. Mostly necromancers are seen as at best weird and usually gross but too useful to ever ban again.

Necromancers are Less common than the other fields offered magical study due to societal pressure (like how chemists and engineers are hugely important to modern sanatation and water treatment but most people don't even consider that when going into STEM)