#it's such an in-character little moment for everyone :3

[navydoves]

Blood Bag - Chapter 3

"I'm not a monster."

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✎ᝰ summary. you’re a vampire, you need blood. sylus is the most powerful man on this side of the planet. he has what you need.

✎ᝰ cw. you’re a vampire/sylus is a human, yearning sylus, depressed sylus, lonely sylus, luke and kieran are side characters, not unrequited but maybe a little, ANGSTY, erotica, lots of pining here bro, sylus is super pathetic now

✎ᝰ wc. 8.4k ✎ᝰ. a/n. this is my favourite chapter so far, ong there should be only 1-2 left. i didn't realize just how much i yap bro. anyway this one is a lot more angsty than the previous two (imo) but also a lot more erotic. not proofread, will fix as time goes on. hope yall don't hate me for these long ass breaks in between lmfao... enjoy!

luke and kieran, as young and average looking as they seemed, were professional fighters with heavy training under their belt. they knew what it took to be in hand-to-hand combat even without fancy powers to help them.

of course, these skills were the result of their years of training; only taught to them by the best of the best. the frontlines were not their designated position under sylus's care, but they were more than prepared for anything that came their way.

ghouls? goblins? A-tier criminals? all trained to handle them effectively. even with the latest vampire outbreak, sylus had ensured that if anything, the twins should be equipped with the basic defensive skills when dealing with a vampire.

so, what happens when the man who taught them everything they knew about strength, power, and being able to fight... doesn't do just that?

well, luke and kieran were faced with this problem head-on.

"b-boss?" luke whimpers so softly that in normal situations, his voice wouldn't be able to be heard. thankfully, the dead silence between all four persons in the room really helped emphasize the mix of fear, shock, and uncertainty in the him.

kieran was much the same. except he couldn't find his voice and his tense stance and wide eyes did all of talking.

sylus looked between the twins with an unsettling gaze. much like them and much like you, he was staggered in position—cradling you against his body. just for a moment does he glance down at you, his piercing glowing red eyes meeting your scandalized gaze.

everyone takes their moments.

sylus squeezes his eyes shut and tightens his grip on you before wetting his lips and— "OUT!" sylus's booming voice startles everyone in the room, especially you who is closest to him. the twins jolt back and in contrast to how long they stood there, they quickly scramble over each other out the bedroom door and down the hall.

their bedrooms weren't far down, and without thinking, both of them rushed into the closest one which happened to be kieran's. with the door slammed behind them, they take off their masks and catch their breath by the wall. time did move so slow for them, because it felt like hours before they even looked at each other.

to neither of their surprise, the other one was crying. slightly flushed cheeks and wet eyes, the twins had the same look of confusion and worry. "k-kieran," luke chokes out. "i don't know," kieran responds. luke wets his lips and wipes away rouge tears with the back of his hand. "m-maybe this is all part of his plan? maybe he was u-upset because we... i don't know... sabota-" "what kind of fucking plan is this?" kieran interjects with a much hasher tone of voice than luke carried. "you can't tell me boss had no other way of getting information from her than by... letting her bite him? god, and even if that was the case... the way he was holding her, the kisses, the..." kieran retches in his mouth. "i don't like this, i don't like this one-bit luke." luke sniffles. "then, what are we gonna do? talk to him? kieran raises his gaze to the ceiling and rubs his lips together. "there's nothing else to do. you know that better than me, luke." the twins left themselves in an awkward and tense quiet, a complete contrast to what was happening down the hall.

“fuck, fuck!”

“sylus, calm down.”

“how am i… they weren’t supposed to see that!”

you were sat at the edge of the bed watching sylus pace back and forth with his hand over his mouth in stress. the moment had been embarrassing for all parties, sure, but you had no emotional connections to the twins, making this whole ordeal a little better for you to deal with. as opposed to the man in front of you, that is.

“what’s the issue? they saw us, okay, and? then what?” you huff.

sylus stops his pacing and grits his teeth at you. “you don’t understand, they’re… they’re like my sons. it’s… it’s not easy to just let them see me like that…”

“like what?”

sylus hesitates. “vulnerable.”

you shake your head in slight annoyance but let the tension go in the next exhale. “you’ve been vulnerable this whole time, why are you just now getting uncomfortable?”

“what?”

you exhale again. “since the moment i’ve stepped foot in here… no… since the bar, you’ve been nothing but a wreck, a mess. and that’s just what i’ve seen of you. i can’t imagine how long this misery of yours has lasted. if those two are ‘like your sons’ then they’ve definitely picked up on it. yet you’re upset now?”

sylus furrows his brows and stares daggers into you. his lips twitch as if there was a rebuttal or two just waiting to bite back at you. “what do you know about me?”

you look around at his bedroom condescendingly. “clearly enough to invade your home and clearly enough to make you upset. your anger is misplaced with me. just try to calm down." you scoot off from the bed and walk over to sylus to guide him back to where he was previously sitting. he might've dragged his feet there, but he eventually sat down on the edge of the bed again, body slumped over as if he were mourning. "sylus," you whisper. "whatever it is you're about to say i don't want to hear it. you have no place to console me. we're not equals. you're my hostage, my prisoner here. don't... don't speak to me with such familiarity." "i'm not trying to. honestly... i just want more blood. we were interrupted after all." sylus lifts his head and turns to you with squinted, disbelieving eyes. your audacity never left you, it seemed. even when the man who was your lifeline was in shambles, you still had it in you to be selfish. but if sylus said that your drinking and sucking weren't pleasurable to him as well, he would be lying. it was a mix of your familiar warmth, your gripping hands, your gently sinking teeth, your soft, needy noises that was capable of finishing him. and even after every drinking session, when that fatigue creeped in from blood loss and pain, he was still okay with more.

maybe that was what he was feeling right now. fatigue. and maybe it wasn't just from your drinking, but from the weight of his life.

"why... why am i keeping you alive again? please remind me," sylus murmurs with slight dejection. you think on it for a moment. "i can take a guess as to why, but i don't think you'd like the answer. but i can no longer be your prisoner, your hostage, if im dead."

sylus wets his lips and shakes his head slightly, almost as if to erase your illogical argument from his head. it was only illogical because he couldn't understand why he wasn't leaving you for dead, prisoner or not. maybe what luke said was right. maybe he was treating you more like a guest than the vampire that tried to turn him. or i guess, knowing what he knows now, the vampire that tried to feed off of him. "sylus," you interrupt his foggy mind. "shut it." sylus shifts backward onto his bed and scoots until his back was against the pillowed headboard. he didn't say anything nor make a gesture, but his open form and slight melancholy told you that he was giving himself up to you once more. without much hesitation, you follow. climbing up on the bed and onto his lap. you move the cuffs of his collar away from his neck and admire the bloody bites you placed there earlier.

sylus's head was turned away from you slightly, like he was avoiding what was happening right before his eyes. unlike normal, where you would dive right in without thought, you stay still for a moment to look over sylus's expression. the usually hunter-like vermillion eyes had dulled into soft redwood.

what you would do to give him back the life he lived a predator. here now, he seemed like prey.

you lean into his neck and make sure to sink your teeth were where your previous bite was to avoid extra damage to his skin. that sweet, tangy blood you've come to love as dragon's blood hits your teeth right away and courses through your body.

immediately, the same sensations came back into you.

you felt your mind haze and it was accompanied by fluttering eyes. your hands found purchase on sylus's forearms where you gripped and squeezed him. your head buried itself deeper and deeper into the crevice of his neck as if there was more blood to be found there. but your worst habit were your noises.

sweet whimpers and moans escape your lips every second of your feast. it almost sounded like you were crying or... were doing other, more intimate things. but in all honestly, one could argue this was as intimate as it got. drinking blood for nothing but for the sake of your survival, given to you by a man who had everything to lose.

this was the pleasure sylus got from you.

he instinctively cupped the back of your head. and no matter how hard he tried to tell himself not to, it only felt natural to lean down and nuzzle you right back. he was a virgin to you; in all things affection and need. he was a virgin losing his scales every time you sat on his lap. he's experienced every type of pain and pride there was, but the experience of satisfaction and wholeness he got from you was brand new. this was a part of living he never truly knew, so why would he ever kill that by killing you?

your eager sounds and hefty grip made sylus groan softly. there was sweet, sweet pressure between your bodies, creating warmth that fueled both of you. it was still a mystery to him how human you seemed, even with your fangs inches deep into his neck.

"urgh... you're making a mess," sylus murmurs, noticing blood drops running down his neck.

he watches you quickly pull out from your bite and lick up the lines of blood from his neck. your eyes meet briefly, but you were too focused on drinking to truly notice how sylus stared down at you. he watched your tongue lap everything up, fast and with loud slurps.

the sight was enough to make him full body shudder, leaving him unprepared for your next bite. you were back at it, slurping and drinking as if you didn't get several pints worth in the last one.

another soft groan escapes sylus.

the pain wasn’t unbearable. it was in fact, completely bearable. barely anything to the injuries of sylus’s past. it was the overwhelming, affectionate feeling that was unbearable. leave it up to sylus to find a blood-sucking vermin like you, “affectionate.”

“‘m almost done,” you growl softly in-between sucks. sylus doesn't respond, he just lets you continue drinking with all the desperation you could muster. when your noises finally died down and the grip on his arms loosened, he knew you were done. he watches you pull back and lick the remnants of blood from your lips before wiping your mouth all-together.

sylus glances down at his neck - all cleaned and shiny from your saliva. he couldn't see the bites, but he could definitely feel it. a prolonging, insistent ache beat from his neck and all throughout his body. he felt a little lightheaded, a little sluggish and weak. and still, despite all the bites and sucks, he felt the furthest thing from dead. "i'm sorry," you mumble softly while glancing over sylus's slightly enfeebled body. "i... didn't mean to take so much. you just... taste really good." "bodies reproduce blood all the time. it's not like i won't get it back." you nod slightly, feeling a little awkward now that you've had your fill. "what are you going to do about... those boys?" sylus hesitates. he closes his eyes almost as if to forget the memory from earlier. "it'll figure itself out. they'll have to understand one way or another." you furrow your brows. "understand what?" you press sylus. "understand why you need to... keep me alive? what will you tell them?" "that i need to keep you alive to further investigate you, simple." sylus retorts, getting a little annoyed at your questions. "it won't be a big deal if we don't make it one." "what?" you scoff. "you know you aren't keeping me alive to investigate me further. so you're just gonna li-" "what do you know?!" sylus barks at you.

immediately you flinch back in surprise.

there's a moment between you two; one where you take a breath and recover from the sudden jolt of anxiety and one where sylus simmers in regret. "i..." he trails off. his expression softens and his eyes avoid your form. "so you're going to put me back into that cage? am i just living under your scrutiny? is my life still in danger? will my last days be in this fucking estate of yours?" "don't," sylus growls but then eases his tone. "don't... be so fucking hypocritical. you chose to break in here for your own selfish reasons. if you die in this house, then you chose your coffin. but i've given you more than enough blood to satiate you. you don't get to be angry." another moment. "can you just please be honest then?" you whisper, a new despondent tone lacing your voice. it doesn't go unnoticed by sylus. "if i die i'd rather it be in here, anyway. i don't have anywhere else to go, anyone else to see. i've spent the last who knows how many years just... getting by. i was fucking selfish but... if anyone knows about surviving, it's you." sylus brings his avoidant gaze back to you and stares into your dilated eyes. this was a new emotion. sadness. "what do you need me to be honest about?" he asks very softly. "why are you keeping me alive?" sylus shakes his head. "i don't know." "you do." "i don't," he repeats. "that's not a question i can answer for you. but you've made a great effort to get under my skin, get into my estate, terrorize me, take advantage of me, and use me. i hate you as much as i respect you and i haven't respected a nuisance like you in a while." he takes a deep breath, pausing to think about his next words. "if you want me to kill you, though, just say the word. i am also your lifeline as much as i am your murderer." the strange poeticism of sylus's words make your chest feel a little lighter. he felt much more... human this way. i mean - he was, unlike you. but up until now you saw him much differently - like he was a ferocious thing unable to be bested.

"i don't want to die..." sylus frowns slightly. not at your words but at your tone of voice, it was small... helpless even. "you'll stay alive then, but only here. only with me. i can't have you out in the n109 zone."

he sees your nod.

he sees himself lose more of his light.

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like a baby, you were put down to sleep.

but as a vampire, you didn't need sleep.

and you insisted that you didn't want to go to sleep.

but sylus didn't listen.

you were in some dark corner of the estate, purposefully hidden away from the cameras and any attention that may conglomerate in the house. and while your vampire biology enjoyed dark, quiet spaces, you yourself didn't like being put to the side and kept away like you were some sort of monster.

it was fine, you thought.

you could enjoy the peace in this little nook of the house without worry.

without being a part of what was happening between everyone else.

sylus was stood in front of his bedroom mirror once more, staring at the injuries imposed by you on his neck. he hesitated between covering up the bites due to shame and leaving them out for the next inevitable feeding you would have. he traced the outline of the red marks on his skin - intimately in the shape of your fangs.

each thought of his played out like tides, coming and going with the intensity dependent on the wave. everything was foggy, and the clearer thoughts almost seemed to vanish before he could become too emotional about them.

there was no reason to be standing in front of the mirror like he was.

but he was anyway.

what was just as strong at the pain aching in his neck, though, was the yearning he felt underneath his skin. this wasn't a thought that would flounder away, it was an anguish that was apart of his body now. but it had nothing to do with the pain of his bites, and he couldn't just ignore it.

time almost became lost on him. who knew how long he was stood there, and who knew how long it would've been before he left, if it wasn't for a distraction. "boss."

sylus flinches slightly at the unexpected voice coming from behind him. he looks over in the mirror and sees the twins standing there, postures tense. "luke? kieran? when did you get in here?" "we've been standing here for a while, boss." "oh... i didn't notice." a pause. then luke steps forward.

"boss we need to talk, like seriously. we just... want to clear things up, okay?"

sylus furrows his brows and closes his eyes, a slight groan escapes him. "i... i know, but right now isn't the time." "then when can we?" kieran suddenly responds with a gruff voice. it was obvious he was more passionate than his brother. "you always go back on your word with these things, never wanting to tell or involve us in anything. we wanna know if you're being serious here, boss." "kieran, it's okay. let's just-"

"you know i have my reasons," luke gets interrupted by sylus, "i've always done my job of protecting you two, and this situation is nothing different. i know you're confused, but you just can't... there are things you wouldn't be able to understand." "like what?" kieran raises his voice. "like why you're letting that vampire girl feed off of you and why you're suddenly coddling her like she's some baby? you can't torture the girl but you can let her torture you?" "she's not," sylus bites back a retaliatory yell, "she's not torturing me. like i said kieran, there are things you wouldn't be able to understand. but i'm doing what i need to, okay? what's your issue here?" "the issue is that we... we worry for you, boss," luke chimes in softly, his voice a lot more timid than the two men around him. "we care for you and... well we've noticed you've been a little off lately. and then this whole vampire thing happened and... we... we just want our boss back..." luke's smaller voice eases the welling upset in sylus's chest, but still - there was lingering frustration about the situation he's ended up in. he didn't want to answer to anyone about anything. not to you about his intentions, not to the twins about his feelings.

suddenly the vulnerable, unaccepted dragon he once was reincarnated into his bones.

judge-y, judge-y, judge-y.

that's all everyone did, that's all everyone was.

judgmental.

can't lead a sovereignty without scrutiny and demands, can't find companionship without dismay and disapproval, couldn't be a dragon without ridicule and cut horns. everyone was always so against him, one way or another. no wonder he couldn't recognize himself, who was he if not the opinions of other people. "i... i am your boss," sylus whispers, tightening his grip on the counter. "i am your boss and i've always been your boss. whether or not you think i've changed doesn't matter. i'm hundreds of years old, dammit! i have the right to change if i want to." sylus looks up to the mirror at the twins again. they were a bit farther back, kieran in front of luke in an almost defensive position. it was a regretful sight. "boss..." kieran mumbles, "what have we done here to... even warrant this from you?" sylus sighs. he pushes himself off the counter and turns to face the twins. they both avoidant eye contact but sylus didn't. "nothing," he says, "you've done nothing. and that's how i want to keep it. you two are just boys, you've done nothing wrong except be led by a man like me... i didn't want to have this conversation now for this reason. i knew i'd say something i'd regret." sylus weakly points to the door. "im sorry... you two need to leave." the twins glance at one another before looking up at sylus. the dejection and resolution in his voice was unnerving as much as it was upsetting. they both could feel their throats become itchy and burn up with emotion as sylus's rejection hits them.

it wasn't worth it anymore, not now and not like this. luke was the first to turn and tug his brother out with him. the bedroom door closed softly behind them, leaving a both a literal and figurative wall between sylus and them.

they stood out in the hall for a moment to process the conversation just had. "he's not well. he is not well, luke." "fuck... i know." "it's that bastard vampire girl. i want to find her and just kill her. she's turned boss into a zombie." luke shakes his head gently then continues guiding his brother down the hall to their bedrooms. "no... i don't think it's that simple, kieran. boss has been like this for a while now, even before she arrived. all the days we wouldn't see him because he'd be cooped up at base or in his office. all the negotiations that ended up in killing sprees like he needed to let something out. he stopped spending as much time with us, he stopped... being himself a while ago." they reach their bedrooms, the crow masks come off immediately. "that vampire made things worse, sure, but... it always felt like he was headed down this path." kieran furrows his brows and wipes away a few rogue tears that spilled earlier. he licks his lips and hesitates on his words. "are you saying it's always been hopeless?" luke frowns at his brother's emotional voice. "no," he whispers, "i just don't think we're strong enough to deal with him. i don't think anyone is. this is... his life. his choices. what can we do?" kieran bites his lip gently and groans softly in frustration. he makes intense eye contact with luke and wipes the last of his tears. "we keep trying, we keep talking. we'll regret it if we don't do anything, so we have to... we have to try. for him. o-okay?" luke hesitates for a few moments before giving his brother a single firm nod.

"okay." ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ the n109 zone was never in anything but darkness, which made it perfect for a vampire to inhabit in - but still, without some sort of window or even artificial light, it was hard for you to tell what time of day it was.

it had been long, that's all you knew. long since sylus dragged you in here and asserted to you to not leave and to not make noises. you didn't really like being docile, but here you were, unmoving and silent.

at least there was a bed, you thought. a bed, a blanket, the darkness, and some silence. it reminded you of the crevices you hid in when you first arrived into the estate, and how stupidly you made the mistake of trying to get fresh air, leading you to get caught by those two with the crow masks.

you haven't heard many noises in your time in this room, only the faint creaking noises of the house. the estate was big enough that a party on the other side could barely be heard from where you were at - so when you finally did hear a noise, it startled you.

it was heavy footsteps from down the hall that became louder and louder with each passing second. it was a bit unnerving to say the least, but you were scared of few things in your life.

you stilled until the footsteps stopped right outside the bedroom door. it was tense for a few moments before the door swung open, letting in faint light from down the hall. your keen night vision scanned the area and could immediately recognize the form that was now entering the room. "sylus?" you whisper. he doesn't answer. the door closes on his way in and you instinctively sit up warily. as powerful as this man may be, he wasn't a threat to you - but his behavior was odd. you furrow your brows and repeat his name. "sylus." and finally, a response. "are you hungry?" you shift uncomfortably at the question. you weren't, but the thought of drinking from him again was enough to stir you. you swallow and close your eyes to refrain from just pouncing on him. "no... not really." "are you sure? you've been in here for two days, you're really not hungry?" two days? what? "i had a lot to drink last time, i've been quite satiated," you respond softly, the idea of being stuck in here for two days being unfathomable to you. "your blood is thick and course. i'm no longer hungry like i was when i arrived. i feel... normal."

it was quite strange to you how honest you were being here, but that look in sylus's eye made it hard for you not to be. the look of deep pitted exhaustion. you pitied him too much to lie right now.

"sylus," you say his name again after a short silence, "why have i been in here for two days?"

sylus shifts slightly to where he could hear your voice. he's been staring at darkness this whole time, just taking in your presence by listening to you. without your face, the familiarity sylus felt from your voice was stronger.

a voice he knew. a voice for him. "i didn't plan on it being this long, but i've been... distracted. my sense of time isn't great right now. im sorry it's been this long." you shake your head, sylus couldn't see it. "uh... no, it's fine... i suppose. is... is everything alright?" sylus doesn't answer your question and steps forward to where the sound of your voice was coming from. he stops when he bumps into the bedside table where the small lamp was. slowly, he reaches for it and turns it on to its dimmest setting. finally, you two make eye contact.

he sees you in the middle of the bed, sat rather politely and squinting from the light. and you see him, towering over the bed and face a bit sunken and eyes scrutinizing you. he's lost weight.

once your eyes adjust properly to the light, you look over him better. the scars on his neck were healing, but his healing process that would usually take a day was now taking longer - given that the last time you drank from him was over two days ago. he wore something fairly normal. low V-cut shirt and black pants. you can't help but think the shirt was intentional. "were you ridiculed by them?" sylus suddenly asks, crouching down to your level by the bed. "by whom?" you respond. seeing him at this level was flustering you a bit. "philosians. you're from there, yes? did they ever... hurt you? physically, mentally, emotionally, anything?" you shake your head and wet your lips. "no, they were... family, friends, neighbors, acquaintances. i never felt... ridiculed. why do you ask?" sylus furrows his brows together and looks down at his lap. this was a hard talk. "because they still do it," he murmurs. "you said it yourself, they still tell stories about me all these fucking years later. i can't escape them, one of them even broke into my house." you tense up at his words. "i'm... not like them. i'm part of the n109 zone now, it's been eons since i've been in philos. plus, i told you i never believed those stories anyway. i'm different in every way possible from the girl i was back in philos." sylus raises his head and meets your eyes with his dilated, angry ones. "but, you know. you said you never believed those stories, but you also said you somehow knew they were about me. how could you have known they were about me if you didn't think of me as the monster they say i am? the horrible things they've lied about, you had to believe them and figure it they were about me." you bite back your small whimper. it was bad enough he'd forgotten you, it was worse that he was accusing you. "sylus that's not-" "there's more you're not telling me but i... i don't know if i want to find out anymore."

the anger plaguing sylus suddenly dissipates and becomes replaced with despair. his hands clench until his knuckles turned white, and once again, that tension just disappears. like he didn't have the energy to continue the emotion. "i don't want to know anymore, i don't care enough, i can't think straight." sylus admits with his head going back down again in a resigned, hung position. "i've built my life ground up and i just... i have nothing to feel for it. it's just here, i'm just here. and i feel nothing, nothing at all."

frustration lines sylus’s voice before it too dissipates once more. being this vulnerable and honest was unnatural for him, it made him uncomfortable to wallow at the knees of someone like you. but just like his anger, just like his frustration, it was hard to have energy to care or regret anymore. one minute the emotion was there, the next it was gone. and what it left was nothing. a devoid of anything.

sylus feels your hand rests atop his head and flinches slightly. he brings his head up to look at you and sees your slightly awkward, tense, and pitiful eyes. your touch was anything but, though. in fact it was warmer than what he would expect from a vampire.

“i… feel that way too, sometimes,” you mumble. you avert your gaze to avoid sylus’s aching eyes. “i had to.. rebuild my life after i became a vampire. everything i knew and loved was no more, and i was no more. and decades later, here i am, with what to show for it except for desperation?”

sylus’s expression clenches in understanding and in pity as well.

“i’ve mourned for what i’ve lost, who i’ve lost. i’ve mourned for those who’ve forgotten me. and even when hope is staring me right in the eyes,” you glance at sylus then quickly look away again, “i can’t feel anything either. i’m also a monster people try to stay away from. even if i’ve never hurt anyone and even if i blend in, i’m… still a monster.”

a fleeting feeling of embarrassment washes over you, realizing that you were reciprocating sylus’s honesty with your own. you swallow tentatively and shake the thoughts of regret from your mind. it came naturally to you. to look at that face and to be the most honest version of yourself, it was who you are.

“i… im sorry,” sylus whispers. he lays his head in your lap and closes his eyes. “im sorry.”

immediately you tense up. you weren’t sure what to make of sylus’s sudden earnestness but it was worlds better than being at the receiving end of his ferocity.

gently, you move your hand back and forth on his head of hair and exhale with emotion. there was simmering uncertainty between you two.

“i don’t want to be kept away again,” you break the silence. “makes me feel like an animal. like the monster you keep talking about.”

sylus nods just slightly in your lap acknowledging your request. he felt a responsibility to keep you away from all the prejudice he once felt. even if you were the “enemy”.

after a few minutes of unusual but mending silence, sylus raises his head off of you and starts climbing the bed. immediately you lean back and look between his eyes. it was moments like these you remember just how much bigger he was than you.

“are you sure you don’t need any blood?” sylus rumbles out. his palms were pressed into the mattress on either side of your hips. a single knee of his hoisted him up on the bed and helped him tower over you. he was looking down at you and eyeing every mix of emotion that passed through your eyes.

you sputter. “u…um, i’m not that hungry but… do you want me to feed?”

to your surprise sylus nods, but just barely so. “yeah,” he mumbles, “i want you to feed.”

“w-why?”

sylus squints his eyes at you. “because… you need to eat, and i promised to keep you alive.”

“but… i just said i wasn’t hungry.”

sylus clenches the bedsheets beneath his hands. he stares you down but it wasn’t to intimidate you, but to figure out what to say next based on your reaction. safe to say you were confused.

“let me feed you,” he whispers, “i want to give you myself.”

the sequence of expressions on your face would be amusing to him if it wasn’t for such a gray atmosphere in the air. he leaned in closer, your noses almost touching, and repeats himself. “let me feed you, i know you want it.”

and oh boy you did.

from the way your hands gripped in your lap, to the way you swallowed mouthfuls of spit imagining it was his blood, you wanted it. and he was dangling it in front of you like candy.

“but if i keep taking blood when i don’t need—“

you yelp as sylus suddenly pushes himself forward and pins you against the bed with his own body. and just as quickly, he turns your bodies over so that you were the one laying on him. cups the back of your head with his palm and angles it to his neck.

“it’s okay, drink,” he whispers gruffly, “just drink.”

and that insistence—even after you denied needing it, even knowing hunger wasn’t plaguing you right now—that insistence makes you break.

you can barely register it but within seconds you wrapped your arms around sylus’s neck and pulled yourself closer to his skin for a bite. like second nature at this point, your fangs meet his skin and breaks it’s healing barrier. immediately, you start drinking.

a groan leaves both of you as pain and pleasure circles between your bodies. it didn’t even matter if you were hungry or not anymore. physical hunger played no part in how much you needed this lifeline of yours.

“yes,” sylus moans breathless, “yes, just like that. take what you need.”

you snarl in response. obviously, you were happy to comply.

when your fangs sink in deeper sylus can’t help but throw his head back from the overwhelming sensation. it was so unpleasant but your eagerness, your need for him gave him an unending satisfaction. he knew pain well enough to know when it was searing, and your infliction upon him was anything but.

“you,” sylus chokes out softly, “make me feel something i never have. like this…” you growl in between his words, “like this i’m perfect. i’m wanted. i’m not a monster.”

he pushes your head imperceptibly further in. you were already so close but the need to fuse with you in the moment was so strong. this was your kindness, he needed to be one with your kindness. he was your virgin, after all.

just as usual, sylus’s blood was thick and sweet with a nice course feel to it on your tongue. all you could think about was how different dragon’s blood was to rat’s blood or bird’s blood. it was pure, healthy, and potent. everything you needed.

his muffled, pitiful words were distant to your hazed mind. all you selfishly cared about was getting in another fill of his blood. there was a time where hurting sylus like this was unthinkable—but now, as a vampire, with needs far more important than sylus, you couldn’t care less.

sylus smiles to himself and closes his eyes for a moment. he could feel that familiar lightheaded sensation come back to his body. but instead of frustration or fatigue, he only felt empowered.

when he opens his eyes again, he was greeted with the top of your head so close to his face. like second nature, he leans closer and kisses the crown of your head. and what was one peck turned into several. silent but sweet thank yous from him but barely appreciated by you.

even when the groaning and slurping finally stopped and you finally pull back from his neck. sylus couldn’t help himself but continue his affections.

your flushed expression and red-stained lips was addictive. he leans into closer and licks away a few rogue drops of blood from the corner of your lips and then pulls back with a smile.

“are you full? was it good for you?” he whispers while stroking your cheek tenderly.

you could barely register sylus’s softening demeanor but respond with a slight nod anyway. “yeah… mm.. good.”

sylus’s eyes become rounded with emotion. he pitches your cheek affectionately. “do you need more?”

you shake your head, “no…” you whisper. your senses start to slowly come back to you. you’re suddenly hyper aware of how close you are to sylus’s face and how kind he’s being to you. “was… was it good for you?”

sylus’s smile drops slightly but twitches back up again. “yeah, it was.”

“why?”

“it feels good.”

“how?”

“it just does.”

you flit your eyes down to the bites on his neck and the other bruisings that were healing. “it doesn’t look like it feels good. it looks painful.”

“it is.”

“then why does it feel good?”

sylus takes a moment, thinking about how to respond. “because… i think you give me something i need. i haven’t done anything like this before. with someone who… i guess needs me, likes me.”

you straighten at his words and fumble back into a sitting position from where you were laid. on his lap now, you don’t know where to look or how to feel about this words. “wh-why do you say it like that?” you almost laugh. “i’m just… drinking blood…”

your reaction makes sylus flushed as well. he sits up awkwardly and clears his throat, wondering how to move forward after saying something so embarrassing.

“i know,” he mumbles, “but it’s different for me than it is for you. but… we both benefit from it, so doesn’t really matter how or why.” he pulls you in closer just slightly. “just matters that we both get what we need.”

you nod with an incredulous look on your face. this was amazing news for you, it seemed. not only a source of blood, but of the finest blood out there. yet still, the sudden shift in sylus didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“yeah,” you smile just slightly, “doesn’t matter.”

the next few moments of silence consisted of you and sylus simply staring at each other, awkward but understanding smiles on your close faces. it only takes a few more moments for sylus to decide to move on. he picks you up effortlessly and attaches you to the front of his body. your legs instinctively go around his hips and your arms around his neck.

with you hoisted up against him, he clicks off the dim light of the room and walks out. he turns his head slightly to catch a glimpse of your side profile.

“no more hiding out. let’s go to my room.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“are you sure this is a good idea, kieran?” luke whisper shouts to his brother. he hid behind his back like something was going to come out of nowhere and snatch him away.

“i thought we agreed,” kieran scoffs. “boss isn’t going to talk to us if she’s around. did you see the way he carried her into his room? all… lovey-dovey and shit? fuck, it’s disgusting. she has him hypnotized or something. so we can’t get answers out of boss, we have to get answers out of her.”

“i know, i know,” luke sighs, “but… can’t this wait until she’s awake?”

luke stares at sylus’s bedroom door with unease. just by chance did he and kieran see sylus and you walk into his bedroom. or rather, sylus walking in and you attached to him like a vest from the front. with the lights off and no noises coming from the bedroom, it was somewhat safe to assume that the two of you were asleep. even if… vampires didn’t really need asleep. the twins would take their chances anyway.

“no, it can’t,” kieran insists with his arms crossed. “if she’s wide awake then that means boss would be too. and you know we can’t do this if he’s awake. we just gotta do this efficiently, yknow? efficiently… quickly… intimidatingly…”

“kieran,” luke murmurs while eyeing his brother’s antsy form up and down, “stop moving around so much it’s making me nervous. let’s just… do this and get it over with. do you have the weapons?”

kieran nods. “and more in the bedroom if we need them. i wish i could just kill her instantly but… we need information out of her.”

luke smiles to himself. “you sound just like a boss… y’know when he still gave a shit about a vampire being in the house.”

kieran smiles back. it was a moment of humor in an otherwise daunting environment. “yeah… i learned from the best.”

the twins face the door head on and with one final shared breath, reach for the knob and click it open. the hallway light spills in just a sliver, illuminating the bed that was in the middle of the room.

two forms there, one noticeably bigger than the other. you and sylus.

the twins felt their heart rates pick up at the intimate sight. it was just you two sleeping next to each other, but it was wrong. you weren’t supposed to be there, you were supposed to be dead by now.

they swiftly walk in, not bothering to be too slow with their pace. they needed to get in and then get out.

at the side of the bed where you were laid at, they gaze down at you. hair mussed up and expression peaceful in sleep. thank god you actually were asleep.

the twins glance at each other before giving the other a firm nod and going in immediately. luke covers your mouth with his palm and hoists you up harshly while kieran moves back and holds a silver-plated knife to your neck—courtesy of all the weapon crates still in security.

immediately, you wake up from the yank of your body. any noise you made was pushed back by luke’s palm and soon you realize from the knife on your skin to not make any noise at all. the two boys you keep seeing around the estate were now here with you.

you glance at sylus beside you who was still unmoving and fast asleep. you curse the fatigue that was causing him such deep sleep. it was evident from the first bite you took how long he slept afterward, and while that was good for you then, it was life or death now.

the twins nervously drag you off the bed and out the bedroom, closing the door behind them. there was complete silence between the three of you because everyone was on extreme high alert.

you’re lead to another bedroom across the hall—kieran’s bedroom—and forcibly sat in a chair. your arms are tugged back by luke and then locked at the wrists with silver handcuffs, then same done to your ankles. you notice how many weapons were on the floor and tables of the room. they were all the n109 zone’s high tech vampire equipment.

it was only once you were completely bound and helpless that the twins even acknowledged you.

“listen,” kieran murmurs very lowly. “i won’t waste my time on idle talk. you know why you’re here right now. what have you done to boss?”

luke steps forward, backing up his brother. “you’ve been feeding off of him, right? you’re making that man sick for fuck’s sake. listen… we don’t know what your end goal is here, but the last thing boss needs right now is to deal with you anymore.”

your eyes, blown wide from sheer astonishment at the situation, look between the twins. you laugh incredulously. “what?”

kieran brings the knife back up to your neck. “this isn’t fucking funny.”

you glance down at the knife. “you two are just like him. empty threats and desperation. i’ve had this song and dance with your boss. he put me in a cage and threatened to starve me but he needed me for information, so he kept me alive.”

kieran’s face scrunches up in disapproval. “have you not spoken? is this little… charade of his to get you to speak?”

you shake you head. “i’ve already told him what he wanted to know.”

the twins visibly look taken aback. this whole time they lived on the hope that maybe, just maybe, this was all a tactic for sylus to find the answers he needed. even if it sounded a little crazy to them, they didn’t know any better. boss never shared his plans anyway.

“what?” luke whispers. “how can we trust you?”

“how am i supposed to prove that you can? you two already seem to hate me.”

“of course we fucking hate you!” kieran suddenly yells. the force of his emotions causes the knife in his hand to accidentally knick your skin. “you’ve… you’ve turned boss into a zombie! he won’t even speak to us anymore! he’s always with you! or… or just not there…he’s so hollow… it’s like… it’s like you’ve done something to him!”

“i didn’t do anything!” you yell back, equally as angry now. “he wanted this!”

“bullshit he wanted this!” kieran retorts. his eyes start watering behind his mask but the tears couldn’t be wiped away right now. “why… why would he want this? why would he want to be your stupid fucking… blood bag?! he’s the fucking sovereignty of the n109 zone. he’s not going to let some weak vermin like you… use him!”

“kieran,” luke interjects whilst putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “kieran, calm down. you’re only going to make yourself more upset. you don’t need to fight with your voice, we have weapons.”

you start struggling against your confinements and thrash around in the chair. you were so sick of being the main villain in this story. so what, you did sneak in. but it was the house full of impulsive men who got you to this point. it was so clear to you that these boys knew nothing about their boss despite being “like his sons”.

“i can’t fucking take her anymore, luke,” kieran cries softly with the knife slowly pushing more into your skin. “i can’t fucking take looking at her face and i can’t fucking take looking at boss and wondering what happened. we can fix it. whatever boss is going through, we can fix it. but we just need her gone.”

luke nods in agreement, his own tears threatening to spill. “i… know. i know. i can’t imagine boss wanting this either. it’s not right… it’s not like him. but we can’t kill her, not yet.”

you watch the emotional exchange between the brothers with a bit of regret in your heart. if you hadn’t manipulated, lied, and taken advantage of sylus in his vulnerable states, this wouldn’t be happening. but at the same time… you missed him and needed blood.

you missed him, you needed blood.

you missed him, you needed blood.

you missed him, you needed blood.

the two emotions of love and greed overwhelmed your judgement and here you were, however much time later, suffering the consequences of your desperation.

every single one of you was desperate for something it seemed. you, sylus, the twins. it seems like everyone was working off trying protect something and fulfill themselves.

you weren’t lying when you said you related to sylus in his emptiness. at some point you started feeling nothing but… well, nothing. you were in a cycle of trying to survive and trying to keep your identity a secret. and still then, the thought of dying and being reborn was worse to you. you kept on living for the sake of it, and only when you met sylus at that bar, did you feel your two new emotions.

love and greed playing out over and over again in an endless cycle until you ended up here, tied up to a chair, facing the consequences of your own actions. but even here, you didn’t regret a single thing.

“please,” kieran almost whimpers. he drops the knife to the floor and drops to his knees along with it. “please, just tell us what you did… please just tell us why boss—“

the door opens to the bedroom.

the familiar creaking sound catches the attention of all three of you. it plays out like déja vu.

the twins look back, slightly horrified.

you look up, slightly hopeful.

sylus stands there with a menacing look to his face. his hands are clenched into fists by his sides but he makes no other show of his anger. the only sound breaking the barrier now was his voice, and it was as smooth and low as ever.

“what are you two doing?”

just wanna say ty all for your support! means the world

tl: @seventeen-x , @webshooterrr9 , @theycallmesoup , @satansdaughter123 , @tyasmaple , @jaynawayna , @jadeymeciela , @namjooningera , @phisen , @eepamaawo , @lolaisoffline, @floofycookie, @thejmins, @multisstuff, @meowgumiiii

[falling-through-a-trapdoor]

Ok ok I want to say something about the connection between vulnerability and clothes layering in the Terror. This might make no sense but… Hickey, Goodsir, and Fitzjames are the 3 characters we see the most of skin wise. They are the only three main characters we see shirtless. I would argue that these three are also the characters we see be the most vulnerable. Fitzjames in the cairn scene, Goodsir in his interactions with Silna, Hickey in his love for Gibson and when he gives his monologue about why he is there and a bit of his past. Versus, say, Edward Little who we literally NEVER see without a coat on. Even in the very end he’s still in full uniform. We don’t learn really anything about this man as a person. Almost all we do learn is entirely through facial expressions. His entire identity is centered on being a lieutenant. I think his way of clinging to this is to remain in uniform even as everyone else sheds outer layers. He wears his as a defense. Even in one of his most vulnerable moments, his argument with Le Vesconte, it’s about trying to do his job, not him as a person. Even his last word “close” feels like he’s essentially asking Crozier “have I almost completed my job? Have I been a good lieutenant?” And I don’t know something about his lack of identity outside of his uniform and his wearing it like armor breaks my heart.

[blasphemyandbackshots]

1. post mission tension - enemies to lovers

you’re covered in blood, adrenaline still burning and your rival-turned-partner pushes you against a wall in the dark alleyway.

“you could’ve died back there.”

“so what?” no answer, just his mouth crashes into yours and he fucks you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to.

2. the ‘fake dating’ hotel room

one bed, a mission, pretending to be lovers. he says it’s fine, that you can share. but that tension snaps at 2am when he whispers, “you keep pressing that sweet little ass into me, sweetheart. wanna tell me something?”

3. training gone wrong

some sparring gets too intense. you’re pinned and he’s breathing heavy. “you giving up already?” he grinds and you glare. the tension breaks when his mouth is on your neck and you’re gasping, “fuck you.”

he grins. “gladly.”

4. caught touching yourself

you thought you were alone. your fingers buried deep in your pussy and whispering his name. he appears in the doorway, smirking. “you couldn’t wait for me?” now he makes you show him exactly what you were doing and finish while he watches.

5. chained together overnight

some sick villain’s curse and a pair of handcuffs. now you’re pressed together, limbs tangled and you’re soaking through your panties. of course he notices. “you really expect me not to do something about that?”

6. undercover seduction

you’re playing the role of a high-end escort, he’s your client. your eyes locking and your roles blur. “gotta be convincing, right? but the way he fucks you in front of that one-way mirror? that’s not acting, that’s obsession.

7. public teasing at an event

an elegant dress, a plug inside you and his fingers around your throat as he whispers against your ear, “smile for everyone, baby. but if you come before we get home, I’ll ruin you in front of everyone.”

8. drunken confession turned fuckfest

he’s your best friend and you swore you’d never cross the line. he’s drunk and you’re tipsy. “you don’t get it, I’ve always wanted you.” and now you’re in his lap, moaning into his mouth, his voice hoarse with years of pent-up need.

9. heat of the moment - apocalypse

the world’s ending. you’re both hiding in a crumbling building. his hands find your waist, thighs, every place he can reach. “just once,” he says. “if this is the end let me have you.”

10. first time with a villain you shouldn’t love

he’s the enemy, dangerous (maybe even a killer), but he saves you. and pulls you into his lap, “you’re not going back to them.” when you try to argue, he shuts you up with his cock and a growl, “I said you’re mine now.”

✎ rules:

I’ll write every scenario only once, as soon as the scenario is taken ill cross it out

✎ characters:

Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Suguru Geto, Sukuna

Shouta Aizawa, Katsuki Bakugo, Touya Todoroki (Dabi), Tomura Shigaraki

Itachi Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake

Levi Ackerman

✎ a/n: if you don’t see your fave feel free to ask if I would write a story for them. I can also write stories based on the sex headcanon lists ☺️

[ankababy]

In Another Universe…

Niragi x reader

This is a short fic, related to A Home. Just something I’ve been thinking about, kind of plus content. You don’t have to know anything about A Home to read it though, important things are explained. :P

This is more of a test to see if y’all like this type of content, love you<3

TW: mentions of sex, out of character Niragi in context of having a loving girlfriend??

In another universe…

The fireworks never happened. The meteor didn’t exist. No games, no Beach happened. Or perhaps, in this world, it never even threatened.

Here, the streets are whole. The trains run on time. You pay your taxes late and complain about it. You drink too-sweet coffee from chain shops and laugh too loud on the sidewalks. And in this universe, you are still learning.

Psychology, humans, patterns—the strange ways people tick. You were always good at noticing, always good at feeling. But here, you had a desk, a university ID, deadlines you kept forgetting, and professors who said you had “an extraordinary instinct” for people. You loved learning. Still do.

And Niragi?

He’s not a monster in this universe. He’s not clean either, not soft, not healed. But he’s here. Flesh and blood and living like the rest of them. Working from a cluttered desk in an apartment, monitors glowing blue against black-out curtains. No guns. No borderlands. Just code. Engines. Game environments and what else. He’s in his own world with a headset looped around his neck and one hand flying across the keys.

He didn’t even look up when you came in. He knew it was you. You always dropped by around this time.

Your arms were full—plastic bags rustling, something homemade in a bent paper bag, something you picked up from a bakery he liked but never admitted to. You wore your favorite hoodie, oversized and soft, sleeves dragging over your fingers. Your hair was tied up, and you had no makeup on, no grand plan in mind. Just… dropping in. Like a girlfriend. Because you were.

You were his girlfriend.

You moved to the desk, setting the food down beside the chaos of wires and controllers. “You’ve eaten nothing but Red Bull today.” you said softly, more like a note than a complaint.

Niragi made a sound—noncommittal, gruff. His mouth moved with thought, eyes locked on the screen. “Thanks.” he muttered. Then, without looking, he reached out. His hand found your bare thigh. Fingers slid up, warm, tracing the soft skin there.

Your breath hitched, just a little. Not because it was sexual. Not even because it startled you. It was just… tender. Not a word people associated with him.

“I brought that salmon thing.” you said, voice lighter, letting yourself smile.

“Hm.”

His hand stayed for a moment. A thumb stroked absentminded circles against the inside of your thigh, and then, just as casually, he withdrew it to return to the keyboard.

You watched him. Watched the way his hair fell over his face, watched his mouth twitch with thoughts he didn’t say. His brows knitted together as the screen lit him.

“You’ve been working all day?” you asked.

“Mm. I’m fixing everyone’s fuckups.”

“And who’s fixing your fuckups?”

That made him glance at you. Just a flicker. He made a face, but it wasn’t mean.

Your heart fluttered in your ribcage. It was stupid. He was stupid. But it still made you smile.

He went quiet again, typing. You watched the screen for a moment, pretending to understand the lines of code. You didn’t. Not really. But you liked being near him. Liked the glow of the monitors on his skin, liked the way he was just near. You liked your boyfriend.

You met him about a year ago—you and him? That pretty princess and that… guy? No way.

Now you were in his apartment. Now he touched you like it was automatic. Now he fed you a bite of his food with the same fork he used. Now he took showers with you. Now he had his hand on the backrest of any chair you sat in.

“Put your glasses on.” you said gently, brushing a piece of his hair back.

“No.” he muttered instantly.

“You can barely see.”

“Still typing.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t press. You learned over time when to push and when to let him be a stubborn ass. And glasses were always a battle. You knew he didn’t like how he looked in them.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t still care. He didn’t make it easy, but that wasn’t the point. You didn’t love him because it was easy. You loved him because it was him.

With a soft sigh, you nudged the edge of his chair with your hip.

He didn’t say anything.

So you did it again, a little more pointed this time.

He finally leaned back an inch, one of his knees spreading just slightly, and that was your cue. That was how he said yes.

You climbed onto his lap, folding yourself into him like muscle memory, your arms looping around his shoulders, your face resting near his neck.

His only acknowledgment was the subtle shift in his posture—the way he pulled you closer with one hand resting on your thigh again, the other still navigating through his… whatever the fuck was on the screen, you didn’t understand. He didn’t stop. He just worked with you there, comfortable in the weight of you.

He was an asshole. No point sugarcoating it. Half the time you weren’t even sure if he liked people in general. You knew he didn’t have many friends. Could count them on one hand, maybe. And even then, he kept them at arm’s length—a good offense is the best defense, and allat.

But he was a good boyfriend. Actually.

He didn’t cheat. He didn’t lie. He didn’t make you feel crazy for needing a little love. He texted back (eventually), and he always made sure your charger was in the wall when you came over. He didn’t say I love you a lot, but you knew it when he sat with you in the hot bath after a hard week, or when he rested his face in your hair.

He was mean, sure. But not to you. Not where it counted. Not where it would hurt you.

You ran your fingers lightly through his hair. “You’re gonna fry your retinas out before thirty.”

He hummed. Noncommittal. Like he didn’t care. But he leaned into your hand when you touched him, just slightly.

You knew him. You saw him. You saw how hard it was for him to be open, to let himself be soft. But he did, with you. It wasn’t fireworks. It was letting you in the room when he was in work-mode, letting you sit on his lap while he did that whatever, letting you see him when he wasn’t funny or tolerable. Just him. Raw. Messy. Brilliant. Exhausting.

He never thought he’d be in a relationship, much less a good one. Not because he didn’t want it, but because he didn’t think he deserved it. He’d been dragged through too much shit—bullied, shut down, walked over—and he hardened himself until he didn’t think anyone could reach what was left underneath.

But you did.

You loved him through the silence, through the rough nights, through the snide comments and occasional cold shoulder. You didn’t nag, didn’t play games. You brought him food. You asked him to wear his glasses.

It was working.

You were good for him.

You kissed his cheek.

He didn’t flinch or lean into it. Didn’t say anything. Just shifted his hand from the keyboard for a second, fingers brushing up your thigh, dragging the pads along your skin, enough to feel your body, to acknowledge your closeness. Then it was gone again. Back to the mouse. Back to the window.

And it was fine.

Because that was how he loved—not loudly, not dramatically, but in those little, passing gestures. A hand on your leg. A hoodie you could keep. The way he never asked you to leave, even when he was buried in work and hadn’t spoken aloud in hours.

Loving him was hard. He wasn’t the type of man built for softness. The world had taught him too early that vulnerability made you a target, and he learned how to fight back.

Then you showed up.

You weren’t loud, you weren’t pushy. You didn’t try to fix him or force your way into his head. You were just… there. Warm and steady and unbelievably kind.

You didn’t need him to be perfect. You didn’t need him to talk like an actor or fuck like a porn star or break down crying in your arms to prove he had feelings. You just needed him. As he was.

And he needed you more than he ever admitted.

The intimacy? Better than he imagined. Not just the sex—though that was good, god, it was amazing—but the intimacy in the silence. The way you curled against him without needing to talk. The way your hand found his. The way you let him be quiet. The way you kissed him on the cheek and didn’t get mad when he didn’t react the way most people wanted him to.

You were a sweetheart. Actually. So gentle, so good, and somehow never weak. You didn’t let him walk over you. But you didn’t need to fight to be seen, either. You just were. Present. Real. And slowly, carefully, you made room for him to be, too.

He’d watch other people talk about love and anniversaries and weekend plans and he’d feel this strange hollowness in his chest, like that part of him had never developed. Like it wasn’t in the code.

But here you were. In his lap. In his space. In his life.

And he hadn’t pushed you out.

He was still an asshole. Always would be. He’d still forget things, still give short answers when his brain was elsewhere, still roll his eyes at romantic gestures like they physically hurt him. But you didn’t ask for sweetness all the time. You just asked for honesty. Presence. And he gave you that, in his own way.

He’d never say it out loud—not often—but he was happy. With you.

And for a man who never thought he’d be soft again—that was everything.

You let your fingers trail along the back of his neck, soft and slow, brushing over the tense muscle that always seemed to lock up when he worked for too long without stretching. He didn’t comment, but you felt the smallest sigh leave his chest.

You smiled to yourself, and kept going. Light touches. Careful pressure. Just enough to soothe, not distract. You massaged the base of his neck, the spot just between his shoulder blades, then slid your hand down under the collar of his hoodie, fingers brushing his skin. He didn’t make a sound, but his breath caught.

It was like this, always. You giving, Niragi receiving in silence. He never asked for it. Never admitted he liked it. But he never pulled away, either.

“You’re tight.” you murmured.

“I’m always tight.” Niragi replied, dry. “The fuck else is new.”

Your hand dipped to his chest, fingers splayed lazily over his sternum, feeling the slow, steady beat beneath it. He didn’t wear softness well. But it lived inside him. You’d found it.

You pressed a kiss to his neck, then whispered, “Can I take a shower?”

He didn’t even blink. Just muttered, “No. That’s why all your shit’s in my bathroom. Obviously.”

He’d never flat out say make yourself comfortable, but you had your toothbrush in a ceramic cup beside his, a drawer with your skincare stuff, and a ratty old hair tie hanging off the faucet. You had shampoo, and a soft robe he claimed he hated. His place didn’t look like a bachelor pad anymore. Not really. Not with the pieces of you tucked in every corner—in a way only someone who lives in a space would notice.

“Okay. I’ll leave you to whatever this math stuff is.”

He grunted. His fingers slowed just a little as your body lifted off of him, the way he tracked your movement with the corner of his eye even as he was still focused.

You stood, stretching slightly. He reached out briefly to squeeze the back of your thigh before letting go.

And you loved that. That he didn’t fake some performance of affection. That he didn’t overdo it. You’d dated people who said I love you ten times a day but never looked at you the way he did when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

This man—mean, difficult, brilliant, and infuriating—was yours. And he didn’t give you romance in the way people wrote about it.

And yeah, he was hard to love.

But you were built for it.

~

The light from your phone screen cast a faint glow over your face, highlighting the slow, dreamy blink of your lashes as you scrolled aimlessly.

You were lying on your side across his bed, one leg bent lazily, the other stretched out. His shirt—too big on you, loose in the sleeves, warm from the dryer still—clung to the damp places your towel hadn’t fully gotten to. It hung just long enough to brush your upper thighs, but not enough to cover the curve of your ass, where your panties peeked out.

It was around 1 am. You’d been here before. This hour. This mood. This bed, by yourself.

He worked late. Always had. You never bitched about it. Never whined or pouted or guilt-tripped him into stopping early. You knew what he was like—how his brain was wired like a machine that didn’t shut down, not really. He tried. Sometimes he’d try for you, get up mid-project just to lie beside you even if his body never stopped vibrating with unsolved problems.

But tonight had been one of those nights where you expected to fall asleep alone. You could feel it in your body—how it had started sinking into the mattress, how your limbs were giving in to gravity, one heartbeat at a time.

So when you heard the door creak open, soft footsteps on the hardwood, you didn’t even react right away. Just slowly glanced up from your phone, eyes half-lidded, sleepy.

There he was. Hair messy from raking his hands through it all night. Hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, faint marks on his skin from resting them against the edge of the desk for hours.

“You done?” you asked, voice quiet.

He nodded, eyes tracing the curve of your legs, the way his shirt clung to your chest, the lazy smile on your lips. “Just about.”

“Good.” You shifted slightly, moving your phone off to the side, one arm reaching out. “Come to bed.”

He didn’t answer. Just pulled his hoodie over his head in one clean movement and dropped it to the floor. His shirt followed. Then his belt. He wasn’t trying to seduce. He didn’t have to. This wasn’t about sex. Not now, anyway.

You rolled onto your back as he approached the bed, watching him with heavy eyes, lids fluttering. You were too tired to be playful. Too soft to tease. You just needed him close.

He climbed in beside you, sheets rustling, mattress dipping under his weight. His arm slid under your neck as you instinctively shifted to press against his side, your leg hooking over his, body curling toward him like a flower to sunlight.

“You’re always so warm.” you mumbled into his skin.

He didn’t reply, but his arm tightened around you.

“You look good.” he said after a beat, voice lower now. “In that.”

You smiled, sleepy and slow. “It’s your shirt.”

You tucked your face against his chest and sighed. Deep. Full. That kind of sigh that only comes when your body knows it’s safe, finally.

“I missed you.” you whispered.

“I was in the next room.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.”

He didn’t say anything. But his hand found your lower back, resting there, fingers moving in slow, absentminded circles against your spine.

That was the thing about Niragi. He didn’t always say the things you wanted to hear. But he did them. He showed up. He came to bed. He let you lay on him like this. He didn’t pull away.

He was hard to love. But not impossible. Not for you.

Because you didn’t need him to be easy.

You just needed him to be here.

And tonight, he was.

[stardustdiiving]

i would LOVE to know your headcanons on how the archons interact with each other!! (if u want to share ofc)

I HAVE. SO MANY THOUGHTS on this topic and have attempted to organize them the best I can. Here’s like, the layout of how I decided to do this

The context I imagine these headcanons take place in

A little section for each archon and my individual thoughts on how they interact with everyone else

Enjoy the multiple thousand words under the cut

Context these headcanons take place in

So obviously, there’s a lot of different contexts I can imagine the Archons interacting in. Two of them could cameo in a light hearted event like we’ve seen happen with Zhongli & Venti, or…of course, something more serious and plot heavy, because I do feel it’s inevitable Genshin will give us some Avengers Assemble moment with the Seven late into the game JISNXIXJS. When it comes to headcanon stuff, though, when I think of Genshin character interactions I find it most intuitive to put the characters in a casual and lighthearted sort of setting because this is likely what’s needed for the characters’ charm to be on full display.

So for the sake of this post, I’m going to pretend that all the Archons have basically decided to restart the original 7’s tradition of meeting up with each other to hang out—in Liyue or otherwise. I like to imagine that these meetings start as a way for all of Archons to get to know each other, instead of something they all decide to start doing after they become friends because…I don’t know, Traveler or someone suddenly decided it would be great if they all finally met and had a dinner party together or something.

Additionally…just for full indulgence here, I want to imagine that in this situation the Archons are allowed to bring friends to these meetings—especially notable immortals from their immediate social circles who would probably be allowed to see Venti and Zhongli walking around as their real identities and such. This is honestly how I kinda imagine original 7 meetings went too—if they’re gathering in Liyue it doesn’t feel beyond me to imagine maybe some Jueyun Karst adepti are allowed to hang out every so often. I want the setup here to feel casual, therefore I’m allowing like Ei to bring her wife Yae Miko with her because Miko wanted to see Ganyu + also Ei isn’t very social and is relying on Miko to buffer for her SJSICJCDN

Venti

friendly & used to interacting with other archons—presence probably really helps set the vibe. this is great bc like 1/3 of the group has social anxiety

Zhongli — #oldmanyaoiwins

Ei — he’s like “oh it’s Makoto's more introverted sister who seems scary but toootally has a soft spot haha :)". Based off what we know about Makoto I feel he probably got along a bit better with her, but I think he’s fine being civil/friendly with Ei…she’s just probably not the archon he gets along with the most yk

Nahida — you know Venti would love Nahida. What makes this even better is its canon: he says in his voice line for her he “gets along very well with the dendro archon”. This is incredibly endearing to think about and I’m desperate to see them interact bc it would be so cute. But im also kind of haunted by the implications of venti being friends with Rukkhadevata. I feel the idea of just completely forgetting a friend would Venti in particular pretty sad…I like the idea he gets a vague, unnerving sense of Deja vu when he’s around Nahida sometimes but is like hm. Don’t like that. (Though i wouldn’t put it past Venti to be suspiciously knowledgeable about Irminsul things)

Furina —has a very cute voiceline about wanting her invited to windsblume. I feel Venti would have a very specific kind of empathy for Furina’s relationship w/ facade & performance and make an effort to be very nice to her

Mavuika — Wants to go drinking with her. That's great Venti I'm glad you found another Archon who loves alcohol and war trauma repression. (I think they’d get along just fine in casual settings!)

Zhongli

similar to Venti, he's chill & used to interacting w/ other archons. Wouldn't feel unsure of his place there whatsoever. Knows exactly what’s up

Venti — #oldmanyaoiwins

Ei — I dont think he minds Ei, & would be cordial with her in his usual Zhongli way, but there's probably not much chemistry here. Eyebrow raise at some of her life choices

Nahida — would enjoy talking to Nahida because they both love philosophically pondering things. there's a charm to this when you compare Zhongli's extensive lived experience as the eldest Archon with Nahida's eagerness to experience the world as the youngest Archon being notable elements of their characters. (old post I made about this here)

Furina — Canonically goes out of his way to make his respect for her known in voice lines + few interactions in 2024 Lantern Rite, which is very charming. I imagine Zhongli would especially respect Furina’s resolve & commitment to save Fontaine as the God of Contracts, you know? Old Man Rex Lapis wants you to know he thinks you're cool & that you should practice self confidence

Mavuika —??? There would be something so funny about this. Zhongli's civility born out of old man autism & Mavuika's civility born out of her being overly emotionally stable would give their hypothetical interactions such an unintentionally funny awkwardness in my mind. They'd vibe

Ei

Overwhelmingly I imagine Ei would feel Really Awkward about interacting w/ other gods. I think she'd learn to have a good time but would struggle to form really close bonds with any of them individually, at least at first. I’ve always imagined she maybe shadowed Makoto whenever she attended Archon meetups in the past, so in the back of her mind trying to socialize as the Archon feels awkward and more like “Makoto’s thing”. She’s trying her best

Venti — canonically doesnt like him which is so funny to me, & also makes complete sense because i think Venti’s whimsy would just baffle and confuse her. Yae Miko, however, canonically does get along with Venti, which gives me this fantastic mental image of Ei being very sad her wife says she can't blow Barbados up with lightning for being overstimulating to be around because she finds him funny and says it would "totally kill the vibe” of the archon meetup. I really enjoy this coexisting with my earlier note that Makoto probably also got along with Venti. Someone help her

Zhongli — again there’s probably not much going on here but I like to imagine she just thinks Zhongli is kind of weird & needing to exist in physical proximity to him and Venti bantering with each other is a deeply harrowing experience for her

Nahida — I Really love that her voiceline abt Nahida is "aw :) she seems like a very gentle god. I like how she's capable of psychological warfare but chooses not to" it's really funny. I enjoy the idea she finds Nahida easier to talk to than some of the other archons and likes sharing desserts with her. Just generally thinks Nahida is 2 apples tall and very polite/pleasant to be around

Furina — Has a very sweet voiceline where she really empathizes with furina over the 500 years she spent fighting the Shogun. I like to imagine Ei is able to pick up on Furina's nervousness at being around other Archons & kinda tries to connect with her/be welcoming to her, even though that isn’t something that Ei’s very used to doing. Which would be kind of sweet

Mavuika — Similarly to Zhongli there would be something unintentionally funny with this. Ei I feel would be torn between resonating with Mavuika’s experience handling the burden of a War and kind of fascinated by Mavuika’s ability to be charismatic in a leadership position. She’s like I have no idea how you’re doing that but that is okay 💜 are you interested in having 20 friendly spars in a row I think it would be fun :) (honestly? Mavuika is probably the individual Archon Ei would have the easiest time getting along with)

Nahida

strongly believe she’d have social anxiety about meeting the other gods for the first time. Her voicelines about the Seven kinda suggest she’d be worried about fitting in & getting a bad grade in Archon Socializing. She probably warms up fast once she gets to know everyone, especially when she realizes everyone already really likes her and is looking forward to meeting her (which I don’t think she’d expect…cute)

Venti — Has a voiceline wondering if she should ask the other archons to play hopscotch w/ her in an attempt to get to know them. I think if she did this alot of them would ne like “uhh…” & Nahida would get so nervous she’s totally killing the vibe until suddenly Venti mows everyone else down to grab her shoulders and go well BUER MY BFF OF COURSE I'LL PLAY HOPSCOTCH WITH YOU!!!!! and she'd be like :D !!!!! and latch onto Venti immediately. As I said in Venti’s section there is no debating that Nahida and Venti would get along they would both be ecstatic to have someone matching them in Whimsy

Zhongli — To Nahida Zhongli is probably just like this funny old man who will happily infodump to her about the wide range of things he's knowledgeable about for 6 hours straight anytime she asks. Like she knows he's Rex Lapis. She’s just very glad Rex Lapis is autism grandpa 9000 as a person

Ei — I think Nahida would get along fine with Ei but i also think it would be extremely funny if Ei's like, tendency for emotional unawareness just stresses Nahida out conceptually. I want a situation where Nahida understands Ei as a person and doesn’t dislike her per se but she’s cursed with getting exactly why Wanderer and Ei’s relationship is Like That. In my mind this is paired with Ei being very friendly and nice to Nahida specifically because i think it would make Wanderer feel like this

Furina — She’d love Furina tbh. Both of them are smart/sensitive/have spent alot of their lives anxious about meeting the expectations of their people and I think it would be cute to see them hang out :) Nahida probably just finds Furina's presence fun and enjoys hanging out with her

Mavuika — Nahida would think Mavuika is cool & nice and be happy to have her visit Sumeru but also probably feel kind of compelled to study her under a petri dish for her quirky millennial wine aunt demeanor

Furina

So I imagine the other archons view Furina as like, "fellow member of the Seven whos also a human" but not "another archon"—I think Furina would find it stressful to ne treated as an Archon after everything so everyone else would probably like, happily welcome her as part of the group but treat her as a human w/ that in mind. I think this would help Furina be a lot more comfortable interacting w them, but I think she'd also just be frazzled to be considered "one of them" and very nervous/intimidated by everyone & what they think of her at first. I can see her being worried they'd be offended by the "faking being a god" thing too. This would stop once she realizes all of them feel entirely positively and respectful of her but I think even that would be a bit overwhelming at first. I think she’d warm up eventually but just inherently has a lot of baggage with the idea of being “one of the Seven” that would probably inevitably come up in a situation like this…like, I imagine pre-MoTG Furina was probably terrified of the idea of interacting with an actual Archon in fear of them seeing through her act

Venti — I think she'd almost be like…overwhelmed (positively) by Venti, who would probably be being very friendly/welcoming of her as a fellow archon. Once she processes he's entirely sincere in his friendliness & theyre able to connect over their talents in performance arts I think they got along great though! This is assuming a situation she gets to know Venti’s identity…more plausibly I imagine she gets the vibe something about this very nice mondstadt bard she just met is Off (like she kinda sensed something odd about Zhongli) but not be fully let in on the secret.

Zhongli — "THAT'S Rex Lapis? Oh o__o ;; explains why Neuvilette was trying so hard to find him…aha…”

Ei — I’m so sorry but I think it would be really funny if Furina was just a little scared of Ei. Like as I said in Ei’s section I imagine Ei trying to be nice to Furina & connect with her while being just completely oblivious to the fact Furina is kinda worried Ei will strike her down with divine lightning. JJDNDJJDNDJDJDHD. She doesn’t dislike Ei or anything Ei just strikes me as someone easy to find intimidating even when she’s not trying to be

Nahida — I think if Nahida reached out to connect with her over their shared experiences of being rejected/alienated by their people for being too humanly vulnerable it would genuinely mean a lot to Furina & they'd hit it off. I think she’d generally like Nahida but also..I will not lie. I think it would be funny if Furina was also kind of conceptually freaked out by Nahida. Like I think in practice it’s mostly fine but Nahida is probably a little too uncomfortably good at reading Furina so Furina is like okay as someone with deep rooted intimacy issues I am a little stressed out by the conditionally omnipotent mind-reading baby present in this establishment

Mavuika — I think she'd find Mavuika's presence grounding to be around but maybe struggle a bit to start conversation with her, at least at first. I imagine Furina would feel a sense of anxious camaraderie with Mavuika as another human archon but at the same time I feel like if they met pre-MoTG it would've been a bit of a mindfuck for Furina to encounter another human archon, especially one who just seems to have a lot more genuine self-assurance about it than her

Mavuika

Mavuika interacting with the other archons amuses me because I think she's just like disproportionately normal and well adjusted compared to everyone else. I think she engages the others pretty confidently and casually. If you wanted to do something fun with this I think it would be interesting if she gets this weird sense she almost fits in a little too well with the other archons, despite being human. Almost like an inverse of how I think Furina would always feel a bit weird about being considered one of the Seven, even by the other archons

Venti — Would probably rock with Venti's whimsy and enjoy drinking with him. Just thinks he's a solid (if not sort of strange) guy but I think Venti's potiental to mess with Mavuika outmatches Mavuika's capacity to mess with Venti…which would result in her being the target of hijinks. I think she needs this though

Zhongli — I want to say she'd be like "fuck yeah grandpa explain those rock facts in excruciating detail" about Zhongli but I think her saying this to Zhongli's face directly is a bit outside the bounds of Mavuika's flavor of quirkiness. I do feel it's the correct sentiment but she'd probably be a bit more eloquent about it. I feel she'd enjoy his sense of humor and the way he messes with people

Ei — I think they vibe over shared backgrounds in war/combat and Mavuika would have a fun time sparring with her but Ei leaves a very “huh! Interesting" kind impression on Mavuika. Their main common bond is both of them are kind of awkward to socialize with because they're too used to being entirely focused on The War

Nahida — This would be cute. Mavuika is probably just like "awwww haha little guy" and would likely enjoy hoisting Nahida up on her shoulders so she can feel tall. “Cool smart kid who’s nice to talk to” kind of situation. Tbh of this depends on the specifics of how Mavuika interacts with children because while I think she’d obviously be diplomatic and respectful of Nahida as a fellow Archon (tm) i feel you could do something interesting with how Mavuika being human and having very human bonds may impact how she views “peers” even in like an Archon setting, especially as someone who had younger siblings…hmmm

Furina — Would also be cute, I think Mavuika would be pretty thrilled there's another human Archon in the vicinity and intuitively really empathize with Furina. Probably prioritizes approaching Furina because she just really wants to see if they hit it off

I think that’s most of it…there’s like a perpetual archons sitcom happening in my mind. Im less interested in them being this like tightknit established friend group and more this funny opportunity for a lot of different genshin social circles to interact. The fact they’d all have varying levels of chemistry with each other but have an incentive to like, get along/be cordial is really amusing to me

[jinxfixeseverything]

3/26 The First (Chapter 3)

Notes and disclaimers: Story is JINX/FEMALE READER. Most chapters contain SMUT and or FLUFF, there is LIGHT ANGST in a few.

Important notes: Jinx is canonically bisexual in this story. I do not own any of these characters, I just play with them. 

Warning: Story will contain VERY graphic depictions of WLW, main coupling will consist of two switches to keep everyone happy.  I’ll shut up now and I really hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You lean down to kiss her and she brings her hands to your shoulders, then strokes your back. It sends a shiver down your spine. You slowly kiss a trail down her neck, your hand reaching to cup her breast lightly. Which conjours a small moan from her. You swallow hard, the sound of her pleasure making your brain a little muzzy. 

You kiss a trail over her collar bone, down to her other breast. She lets out a shaky breath as your mouth covers her nipple and you lightly suck. 

“Mmm.” She moans, arching up towards you, running her hands up and down your back. 

‘Fffuuuck.’ You say in your head. Your brain is already going haywire at the sound of her voice and you’ve barely touched her yet. You feel her hands on the back on your head, fingers intertwining with your hair and she tugs you closer to her. You mentally remind yourself to slow down and take your time with her. Your body trembling with restrain. Spending equal amounts kissing and sucking her breasts, you move further down, placing kisses down her abdomen, she instinctively parts her legs further, she knows where this is going. You place kisses on her hips, tracing the outline of a tattoo there with your tongue, making sure not to rush, ‘til you feel her firmly pushing on the top of your head, a desperate plea for you to go lower. 

You smile against her skin and move down. Your face inches from her. 

She bends her leg at the side of your head and you can’t resist but tease her a little longer by nipping the inside of her thigh, kissing it and trailing your tongue up the length, getting closer again. 

Jinx props herself on an elbow and looks down at you with pleading eyes. 

“For fuck sake…” she whines, frowning and grabbing the hair at the back of your head. 

You chuckle. “Patience please, Ma’am.” 

She groans. Her head flops dramatically back on the pillows. “You’re evil. You hear me down there? EVIIIL!!!” She calls out to you. An arm draped across her forehead as her chest rises and falls in a fast pace. You grin to yourself with delight. Wrapping an arm under her thigh and holding her hips you begin teasing the length of her pussy with your tongue, up and down. 

She gasps at the contact, she didn’t know how it was going to feel, but she didn’t expect that, the softness of it. 

You enter her with your tongue, figuring you’d teased her long enough, and in truth you were only punishing yourself by drawing it out. She tastes incredible, sweet and salty. She coats your tongue with her slick arousal, so much that you need to keep swallowing to handle the amount gathering in your mouth. 

Jinx moans loudly as she places both arms across her face as you rhythmically tongue fuck her. 

Pulling her onto your tongue by her hips, she makes a pleasured mewl with each thrust deeper into her. Her small tits bouncing each time. You can’t resist but watch.

Jinx’s head was swimming. It wasn’t going to take long. Her entire body felt alive in a way she’s never experienced before, not from the shimmer, not from fighting, not from blowing things up. She could hear her own heart beating in her ears in time with the pulsing of her pussy and the thrusts of your tongue. 

You quicken the pace ‘til she’s moaning loudly and grabbing at your hair to pull you closer. In one final loud groan she cums in your mouth. Spasming and trying to sit up but failing, she falls back again letting out a hoarse and shaky laugh as she rides out her orgasm on your tongue.

She lays a moment. “What the fuck..?” She chuckles breathlessly, running a hand down her face. 

Jinx lays in the after shocks, she’d never made herself cum that hard. This was much different to the grumpy, boisterous fumbling she did to herself just to get to sleep. This sent a tingle, that spread outward across her thighs. She could get used to that, she thought. 

You snake your way back up her body, placing kisses all over as you go. 

She giggled and squirmed, feeling sensitive and ticklish, occasionally jerking away from you if it got too much. It made you grin, hearing the sound of her laugh and you held her fast to continue. 

You lay on top of her and look into each others eyes for a second, placing a hand on her cheek you kiss her softly.

Tasting herself on your lips and smelling her own arousal on you she tries to pull away. You pull her back not letting her escape and put your tongue in her mouth. She brings a hand to the back of your head and deepens the kiss with a moan. 

That was enough to spur you on, you grab at the shaft of the cock positioning it to enter her. 

Jinx breaks the kiss and places a hand on your shoulder, pushing you away slightly as if to hesitate. You release the cock to reassuringly stroke her cheek.

“Wanna stop?” You ask, searching her eyes. Jinx shakes her head. You smile warmly.

“Relax.” You encourage her. The nervous grip on your shoulder loosens and you lean down to kiss her again, gently.

You reach for the cock again, guiding the tip inside her. She lets out a hitched breath as you push further, entering her easily only half way. You had planned on going inch by inch, letting her adjust to the new intrusion, but she was so wet it slid in with ease. Further than you intended. She made a small whimper. You were dying to fuck her, you thought you’d explode. Tonight was going real different to what you’d expected. Different, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t good.

Jinx felt the sudden fullness of the dick enter her for the first time, surprised there was no pain, like she’d heard people say. 

She felt your body tensing with restraint and appreciated your willpower not to be an ass and just go for it to get yourself off. Yet she felt oddly in control too. Even though you were on top, it was all still on her terms and that turned her on. She still had control, she told herself.

Her eyes snapped open as you continued going deeper inside her, still kissing her, she had no idea that wasn’t all of it until now. 

Jinx felt a deep ache inside. It wasn’t a physical pain, it was an ache of need. She felt entirely full and yet needed more at the same time. 

You let out a moan of your own when you filled her completely. 

Jinx’s body tensed for a moment, feeling the complete fullness inside. It’s depth and thickness. She gripped on to your back with her nails. Breaking the kiss, she bit her lip and buried her head in the nape of your neck, her eyes shut tight.

You begin to make small circles with your hips, moving the cock inside her. 

Her nails digging into your back, you wince, gritting your teeth and arching away a little but she holds tight, making the cock shift inside her deeper, Jinx rakes her nails down the length of your back and on to your butt. It hurt, but in a pleasing way. 

You slowly pull back just a little and thrust into her a little faster. She lets out a small moan as you repeat the movement over and over. 

You reach for the headboard to brace yourself, being careful not to go too fast and with the other hand stroke away a swoop of hair from her face that was caught between her lips. 

Her legs wrap around your hips holding you in place. 

Your slow thrusts start picking up speed. 

Her moans become louder as she looks up at you pleadingly. Wet, sloppy sounds emanate from between you both as you thrust. Jinx furrows her brow. She can’t even string a sentence together, the building feeling in her body making her brain foggy. 

You smile at her, keeping the pace. “Sounds like we’re doing it right.” You joke reassuringly, struggling to keep you voice steady. 

Jinx felt like she should be embarrassed by the sounds, but she didn’t care. All she could think about was the burning ache deep within her that was slowly building and a rhythmic pulsing from the pit of her stomach. Jinx moaned loudly as she came on the cock, biting down onto the side of your neck to ride out your thrusts.

Hearing her release and the bite on your neck sends goosebumps all over you, starting as a chill, then a burning heat through your core. Feeling her spasm tugging the cock, almost sucking it in further, you couldn’t hold out any longer. You cum with her. Softly moaning “Fuck.” As your own orgasm spread throughout your body. You feel her tense, then let go of you. 

Your forehead slumps next to her face onto the pillow beneath her and you both pant, trying to catch your breath. Your bodies damp with sweat, fitting together perfectly as you’re still inside her. After a minute you prop yourself on an elbow. Looking at her, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

“So, did it suck?” You ask in a cocky tone. 

“Weeeell…” she replies, drawing out the word and screwing one side of her face up. Taunting you. 

You push the cock deeper inside her, eliciting a low “Mmm” from her, as she clutched your arms. 

“I guess if it sucks I’ll just…” You say, starting to pull out of her. 

“Noooononono!” She whines, and wraps her legs around you once again. You feel her start to move on the cock again, rocking backwards and forwards 

“Again? I thought it sucked.” You tease with mock surprise.

“Shut up.” She orders you in a serious tone that hits you between your legs. Gripping your chin she pulls you down for another kiss…

[hopecorps]

the thing about buck "making everything about himself" is not Exactly True (and also not Exactly Untrue) but it IS a crazy look into eddie's psyche

i'm seeing a lot of people saying that buck doesn't make everything about himself, so it's frustrating to see eddie throw this in his face basically every time they have a fight. it feels cruel and unfair. kicking the man while he's down bc buck is already torturing himself by the time eddie gets to him.

and i wanna start by saying that i don't think buck is selfish. but i do think that he fails a lot when he tries to compartmentalize or ignore how he feels. he grew up unseen by his family and desperate to be loved. rejection is scary for him, even the thought of it. and while eddie's never outright rejected him, they've had the most consistent conflict out of any of his relationships because they mean so much to each other, so this character trait which is understandable is often hightened specifically with eddie, especially this past season

and i think this pisses eddie off in particular because he knows almost intrinsically how to push his feelings down and ignore them. he is guilty all the time and views taking any kind of care of himself as a moral failing. any indulgence is a sin.

AND he doesn't even really apply this logic to others long-term. whenever he's been frustrated about this or accused buck of being selfish there's always a moment when it's obvious he's 1. majorly deflecting 2. immediately proven wrong or 3. realized he was wrong and apologized.

so, when buck's emotions take over and he's acting from a place of fear, to EDDIE it reads as making it all about himself. to him, his biggest takeaway is that buck cannot think pragmatically. which IS TRUE. and it frustrates him because eddie is always always thinking about the consequences of his emotions!! to a FAULT by the way, because he never actually lets himself fully process his grief. it's why the whole kim storyline happened: he never got past the anger and grief of losing shannon because he was so worried about chris, when realistically what chris needed was for eddie to think about his own needs for once instead of assuming what other people need from him. but that's a really tough habit to break

longer meta below, i had a lot to say:

the three times we see eddie say this are during the lawsuit, during the fight before eddie moves to texas, and when eddie gets the job offer in el paso

during the lawsuit buck sues the department because he wants his job back and he is convinced that this is the only way he will get it. remember that growing up the only time he ever received love from his parents was after getting hurt. getting hurt and bobby reacting with concern instead of coddling made buck lash out. he can't think about how it will effect everyone else because he is so afraid of losing them and is convinced it's the only thing that will help.

and eddie NEEDS him. it's the first time in their relationship where eddie needed buck and he wasn't there. eddie is hurt and cutting and a little mean and in his eyes buck IS being selfish because eddie would never do something like that. and well duh. he's the runner

when eddie is moving to texas and buck handles it poorly he gets MAD. buck don't you realize i dont want to do this EITHER. buck how can you be upset about this i need you to be supportive because i cannot change my mind. i cannot comfort you because this also hurts me. buck you cannot think of this as me abandoning you because i dont WANT to but i HAVE to. buck why are you making this decision that i was FORCED to make about YOU. buck what about ME.

and of course. buck had processed it and thought about that and came back with the solution: i'm your renter. and it knocks eddie on his ass.

so then it comes to this last time: buck is upset about bobby's death, and he's deflecting. eddie gets a job offer and everyone knows that buck is going to be upset about it. which he would be. he already is.

bobby dies and some of his last words are telling buck that he can hold down the fort and eddie comes back for a couple of weeks and buck does his little assessment and determines that eddie is doing fine and that he doesn't have to worry about him. but eddie is going to leave again and leave For Good this time.

this fight is about the job offer, sure, and it's about buck's angst and grief and how he can't deal with it properly because bobby gave him a Job to do, and it's not about any of that at all.

eddie was grieving all by himself. he wanted buck to be there with him. he wanted buck to ASK. buck was so caught up in making sure everyone was okay and swimming in his own grief that he couldnt even see that eddie was drowning too. he scores his grief a 12 and sends him on his way.

so eddie says the thing that cuts deep because in these intense moments where he's frustrated and hurt and upset he STILL cannot understand why buck can't just stuff his feelings into a box the way eddie does. irrationally, he wanted the one thing that buck couldn't give him in that moment. that's why he apologizes later, because he knows he's wrong, and that he says things that hurt. he knows buck and he knows what buck carries and what kills him. he knows what bobby meant to him. it wasn't even about that!!!

i don't think that buck makes everything about himself. and i don't even think that eddie thinks he does either.

i think that eddie KNOWS that buck struggles with processing his own emotions enough to see how it effects other people. eddie doesnt process them either, but he Does stuff them down because how he effects other people is his top priority. i think this trait in buck really annoys him but i think it is also one of his favorite parts of buck and why they get along so well. buck is earnest and honest and open and eddie likes to read him. but i think that eddie wants to be read right back, and sometimes buck is just not able to do that.

i don't think that either of them were wrong in this argument. to be fair neither of them were right either, they were just both hurting.

and to be clear i think the assertion that eddie was being in any way abusive (emotionally or physically) is a gross (meaning complete and also frankly disgusting) misunderstanding of not only eddie's entire character but also buck's. they're honestly just two people who need each other and struggle with their emotions enough to really see eye to eye all the time. BECAUSE of the love they have for each other

[rivendellwatch]

🌸✨ COZY CUDDLES WEEK — STARTS TOMORROW!! ✨

We're officially kicking off on May 12th, TOMORROW, and I come bearing some soft goodies for you all since there are just a few hours left before starting day! 💌🧸

If you like to be prepared, don't worry bestie I got you!!! Here are 3 wheel, 15 prompts already, and a cute bingo card with prompts too if that's your jam!!

And don't worry, the daily prompts will come, just like for Fluff Week (5 each day)!!!🌸

🎡 WHEELS GALORE!

Feeling indecisive? Want to add a little randomness to your fluff? I've got you covered! Here are the wheels I’ve prepared:

🧙‍♀️ Character Wheel – for those “who should I write about?” moments!! ! Here is the link for the character wheel!!

🧸 Soft Prompts Wheel – found family, soulmates, platonic softness, parental fluff? Spin away! Here is the link for mini prompts wheel!!!

🪄 Cute Word to Include Wheel – a sprinkle of sweetness to challenge your muse! Here is the link for the cute word wheel!!

I’ll share the links to the wheels in the next post too (so Tumblr doesn’t eat this one) so don't worry!!!!

Need inspiration? Here's a prompt list!!! You’re welcome to pick freely, mix, remix, or spin the wheels to generate something fun!!

These prompts are optional—just here to help spark ideas and joy!!!✨

1./ "You’re cold. Get over here." – One character dramatically refuses to admit they’re freezing, until they’re forcibly tucked under a blanket by someone exasperated but fond.

2./ Sleepy Pile™ – Too many people, one couch, and an accidental nap that turns into a dogpile of limbs and warmth.

3./ “I made us a blanket fort.” – Bonus points if it's barely holding itself up and someone absolutely bumps it down mid-cuddle.

4./ "Did you just use me as a pillow?" – Yes. Yes, they did. And now you’re not allowed to move.

5./ Tired warrior cuddles – After a long day, someone just drops their armor/weapons/cloak and flops into someone else's arms with a dramatic sigh.

6./ “You smell like home.” – Said into someone’s shoulder, half-asleep, maybe a little too honest.

7./ Rainy day cuddle sesh – Thunder in the distance, tea on the table, and one character who pretends not to like cuddles but is clearly loving it.

8./ “I’m the big spoon tonight.” – Cue struggling to wrap around a much taller partner or friend with pure stubborn determination.

9./ "You're snoring on me." – Soft complaint, but they don’t actually want the other person to move.

10./ Platonic cuddling champion – The one in the group who always ends up with someone asleep on them, whether they asked for it or not.

11./ Nightmare comfort cuddle – Someone wakes up panicked and is gently (or firmly) pulled back into a hug and told they’re safe now.

12./ “You brought a hot water bottle?” “No, I am the hot water bottle.” – Human furnace character doing their civic duty.

13./ Grumpy x Sunshine cuddle combo – One grumbles the whole time, the other is absolutely snuggled in like a sleepy cat. Guess which is which.

14./ "I can't fall asleep unless you're right here." – Bonus if the other person is flustered by this sudden revelation.

15./ Post-battle cuddle huddle – Everyone survived, emotions are high, someone starts crying into someone else's arms and then it's just a tangle of quiet relief and holding each other.

Starting tomorrow, I’ll post 5 new daily prompts each day of the event (from May 12th–18th)! You can do one, all, or none—this is your cozy journey. 💕

They’ll appear right here on this blog, so keep an eye out! 👀💌

Here is the Bingo Prompts Card for those who want to complete them!!!

📌 REMINDER OF THE RULES:

🧸 This event is all about fluff first and foremost. 💔 If you include angst, it must end in comfort/fluff—we’re here to feel held, not broken. 🚫 No sexual content, violence, SA, or death. 🚫 No harassment, ship-shaming, or bullying of any kind. This is a soft and safe space for all who want to enjoy it.

Only works from folks here (on Tumblr) will be accepted in the AO3 collection. The collection will be open tomorrow morning, first thing! If you want your fic accepted:

— Please tag me in your Tumblr post so I can find it! — Or DM me directly if you’re not comfy posting publicly.

Unfortunately, I will not accept anonymous/random AO3 submissions with no Tumblr connection. I know it’s frustrating, but there has been a rise in bad behavior, harassment, and targeted nonsense, and I need to prioritize the safety of this space.

Thank you for understanding, and thank you for being so sweet and supportive—you all make this worth it. Now, let’s get snuggly!! 💕

_ Bucky

[blackjackkent]

A final moment for Minsc's arrival in Rakha's camp!

Some time ago, when I first started speculating on how Rakha and Minsc would get along, @rhysintherain surprised me with a lovely gift - he wrote something about Rakha! (This is the first time anyone else has ever written something about one of my characters, and to say I was very excited would be an understatement.)

Specifically, he wrote something about one of Minsc and Rakha's early conversations about her Bhaalspawn heritage, and it was honestly so perfect that I asked him if I could just include it as part of the liveblog canon because I love it so much. :D And he said yes, so here it is!

-----

Of Gods and Hamsters by @rhysintherain

“There is a beast that speaks to me. It tries to control my actions.” There was no hesitation, no searching for the right words. This explanation was nearly tradition by now, a conversation that Rakha has with every new member who joins their group.

“Ah, I understand, my friend. I also have a beast who seeks to direct me. Is your beast also of the furry, pocket-sized variety?” Minsc replied casually.

Rakha hesitated. She had faced many reactions to this declaration, but none had prepared her for this one.

“Mine is the voice of Bhaal, god of murder. His will speaks in my mind and tells me to commit unspeakable violence,” in the face of Minsc’s confusing response, Rakha fell back to familiar facts, no matter how unpleasant. It was best the large, bald ranger know exactly what he was signing up for.

“Well, that is not precisely the same as Boo. More like a nasty, evil little rat living in your skull alongside the worm… is it not getting crowded up there? Your head has so many occupants it's a wonder you have any room for the facts you love so much!”

“You have no idea,” Rakha muttered tiredly under her breath.

“You know, you are not the first I have known to share a skull with Bhaal,” Minsc continued, unfazed.

Rakha had heard of the other Bhaalspawn he spoke of. Caden. Jaheira had mentioned him more than once.

“Imoen!” Minsc declared, clapping his hands together excitedly.

Alright, maybe she hadn't heard of who he meant.

“Like you, dear Imoen was a child of most foul Bhaal! Like you, his evil blood called to her. But sweet Imoen was not tempted, and did not embrace the legacy of murder!”

Another child of Bhaal who had resisted their urges? Rakha’s mood lifted, just a little. One Bhaalspawn who overcame their nature could be chance. But if another had done it, there must be a pattern, a strategy she could follow. 

“How?” She asked, working to keep a hint of desperation from her voice.

“Why, the same way the best of us stay on the righteous path of buttkicking for goodness! A good hamster can inspire even the most shadowed hearts to step into the light!”

“A good… hamster?”

“Of course! One simply needs a guiding voice on the outside to drown out the voice on the inside. A small, squeaky voice, ideally. Imoen’s small squeaky voice answered to the name Sniffs, and he liked to travel in the hood of her coat.”

Rakha considered his logic for a minute. On one hand, it seemed very unlikely that the solution to the beast in her head was an opinionated rodent. On the other, Minsc had known two Bhaalspawn who resisted the beast, and she had known none. Jaheira often seemed skeptical about Boo’s efficacy, but Rakha had to admit the little creature always seemed to speak up when Minsc was on the verge of a bad decision, and Minsc often reconsidered those decisions at Boo’s urging.

“... Do you think that would work?” She asked.

-----

“The solution to the beast couldn't actually be a hamster. Could it?” Wyll asked in bewilderment, overhearing the conversation from where he sat at the campfire.

Jaheira snorted. “Believe me when I say the only problem Minsc has solved with a hamster is Minsc.”

He sighed. “I suppose it's too much to hope that the Lord of Murder’s secret weakness was cute little furballs all along.”

“Before you put too much stock in that theory, keep in mind that Imoen denounced Bhaal long before Sniffs came into the picture. We never understood quite why that resistance came so easily for her, but I doubt it was rodent related.”

“Well, it can never be that easy, can it?” Wyll replied with a laugh.

“Take heart, Wyll. We will find a way for Rakha to escape her father's legacy. And I have faith that when we do, that solution will not require her to pack around an sassy rodent who refuses to keep his feet out of our breakfast.”

[blueskittlesart]

[egophiliac]

swipes everything else off of the table to yell about diasomnia flower bookmarks

(I gave Silver one too :D)

[crescentfool]

having the hc that minato is ace is incredibly funny sometimes when you think about how ryoji is oh so very bi because it's like. "ah. death stole my ability to be attracted to people," in the same way that ryoji stole minato's eye color and energy level. like wow, thanks ryoji, you just keep finding things to steal from minato!

[thescreaminghat]

There’s so much to talk about Arcane S1 and S2, and what I want to focus on for this ramble is the issue I take with Singed being Corin Reveck. I’ve said this before, but this was one of the choices that I was worried that the writers would make back when s1 was airing. I actively dislike the idea of making Corin and Singed the same person, and not just because I think it unnecessarily humanizes the awful, awful person that Singed is both in League lore and Arcane while taking away what is a tender and mournful story revolving around two relatively unimportant characters in the broader world and stakes of Runeterra (namely, Corin and his only daughter, Orianna).

My two main gripes with this writing choice are as follows:

It makes the world so much smaller and less interesting than before. In the most recent iteration of Orianna’s game lore, Corin was a famed artificer known for building prosthetics in Piltover (this could be seen as a "doing good work for the people" kind of job, even if he is running a business). This background in itself wouldn’t be too surprising even if directly transposed to Arcane Piltover and Zaun, as even prior to Hextech improvements, we see that body augmentations/modifications are accessible to members of the council (though I much rather prefer League’s idea of Piltover and Zaun as having all sorts of inventors and academics exist in both cities, with Zaun having its own Academy of Techmaturgy, rather than having a handful of named characters be responsible for much of the city’s technological development as we see in Arcane). However, to me, what makes Corin and Orianna’s story so compelling is how easily it can be overlooked amidst all of the grander narratives in League P&Z, the in-fighting between chembarons and the class hierarchy enforced by Camille, Jinx being Jinx, etc. Corin has importance as an inventor, but there are so many of his type—perhaps not specializing in prosthetics, but another field of study—that he really feels like another “ordinary citizen” of Piltover. There is no world-ending stake involved in his and his daughter’s story, but that is precisely why their narrative is so compelling to me—when Orianna rushes to the site of an explosion in Zaun, in secret, to apply the skills she learned as her father’s apprentice in order to save others, and returns home with irreversible lung damage, I feel as though I am witnessing a ”day in the life” of someone stuck within the conflict between P&Z. Corin and Orianna are still privileged, and their situation is vastly better than the actual Zaunites who Orianna made it her mission to save, but Orianna’s biography suggests that despite Corin’s renown, he and Orianna were left largely to their own struggle following Orianna’s illness. I.e. they did not have the kinds of resources and help presumably available to the houses with even greater authority in Piltover.

When Corin devotes himself tirelessly to saving his daughter with his own skills, and Orianna is watching herself lose bits and pieces of her own body, I feel as though we are meant to understand this as a small blip in the overall circumstances of the world, that there are far greater events demanding the attention of the many, and a father’s grief over his child, and a child’s horror at how her body no longer looks the way that she remembers it, is relegated to a quiet, personal tragedy to be shouldered by the pair alone (even though it shouldn't be).

When Corin and Orianna relocate to Zaun, after Corin spends everything he had in order to save his daughter, I can imagine the kind of small relief that father and daughter perhaps felt, realizing that as long as they had each other and their passion for their craft, then that was enough for them, regardless of what happens in the complicated landscape of P&Z. When Corin subsequently falls ill due to the toll that his stress has taken on his own body, and Orianna is forced to make a deal with a chembaron to obtain a hextech crystal in an effort to save her father, we are left wondering how many Zaunites and Pilovians alike may have fallen into similar circumstances, how many secret meetings have taken place between desperate people and good-for-nothings in positions of power in P&Z. And when Orianna ultimately saves her father by giving him her last, healthy organ, the physical embodiment of her emotional core—her heart—and decides to leave her home as a machine powered by hextech, there is no fanfare, but we do get the sense that a tragedy has occurred, that even if there was no “fatal flaw” or twist villain, that something unjust has taken place in these sister cities. And that is how it was meant to be, I think, in Orianna’s story. These are characters, who, by interacting with the world of P&Z as we know it, give us insight into how this world works for its citizens. Their stories don’t need to lead to a grander narrative or tie into timeline-changing events; they are meaningful because they allow us to see how a character could live and thrive and struggle within the backdrop of the world. And that allows us to imagine other stories that could organically come from the politics of P&Z, and other ways its citizens could envision change (e.g. what if working-class Zaunites were given better protections, and Zaunite industry designed to be safer for its workers, so that explosions like the one that was slowly killing Orianna didn’t occur? What if Piltover had better medical support systems so that Corin wouldn’t have to destroy his own health in order to keep his daughter alive? Did Corin’s initial attitudes towards Zaunites change? After all, Piltover effectively failed to assist them, and he and Orianna were forced to move to Zaun in order to continue their business, something that could be regarded by more elitist Piltovians as a “decline” in one’s respectability, regardless of the quality of work produced by Corin and Orianna for their clients. Etc. Etc.)

By making Corin the same person as Singed, the possibilities that Orianna’s narrative opens up for an exploration of other people’s lives in P&Z are removed. Because Singed is so closely tied with shimmer, with Warwick/Vander, with Viktor, with the trajectory of the arcane, with the surgical “creation” of “Jinx”, there is little room to let a backstory of a father and daughter breathe, let alone introduce an audience to the non-plot-related interactions that this duo could have with the richness of the world. It also, in my view, makes the world so much smaller/more extreme (e.g. we can only have a scientist who engages with grandiose, unethical experimentation for the sake of his child, because that is what we would commonly think of when we are presented with a scientist father; we cannot have a father who also happens to be a scientist, where the focus is on his introspective, personal mourning on how his field of study and his community of peers have, in many ways, failed him, but despite that resentment, he continues with what he has, representing one path in a set of circumstances that could drive a different person down another path). And I get that Arcane s2 in particular literally opens up the idea of the multiverse and “other paths,” but that felt somewhat hackneyed, and I much prefer the idea that the multitude of paths that an audience can explore is right here, in the world we currently see, as different people live through their different circumstances.

2) Singed being Corin Reveck removes so much of what made Orianna’s dilemma—whether she is a “machine” or a “human”—so interesting. Orianna, by having her limbs and organs slowly replaced with artificial ones (I emphasize this because the nature of Orianna’s transformation becomes a “ship of Theseus” question), also loses her sense of what it means to be human (e.g. the unbridled creativity that is suggested to have previously animated her craft seems to be gone, and she instead produces “masterfully tuned mechanisms,” rather than “works of art”). She becomes “disconnected” from herself, presumably both from her internal sense of self as well as her physical body, even as her care and love for her father lead her to literally give up her own heart to keep him alive.

One can see the parallels between League Orianna and League Viktor, and how they potentially contrast (or complement!) the other. Viktor claims to have replaced his flesh with metal in order to rid himself of the weaknesses inherent to having an organic, decomposable body, while Orianna is forced to replace her limbs and lungs because she is experiencing, real-time, what the limits of that organic body are, even though she obviously does not want to experience something like this. Viktor claims that it is humanity’s emotions that leads them to make errors in judgment and hinder efficiency and progress, but Orianna’s love for her father leads her to perform a successful operation and save his life (and Corin’s love for his daughter leads him to “create” the kind of mechanical being that Viktor would praise, as part of his ideology). Viktor’s actions suggest that he believes it is necessary to move beyond “limiting” emotions like fear (e.g. his injection of that experimental serum into Naph) while Orianna’s whole struggle is trying to replicate, once more, those feelings, trying to indulge in sentimentality and romance (e.g. When she tells the automaton, Fieram: “I like to ride the Rising Howl at dusk to catch the last of the day’s golden rays,” . . . “From the very top you can see the harbor beyond the sea-gates, and the endless glistening ocean. From up there, you can imagine the smell of faraway lands.” – are these the thoughts and language of a machine, or of a human? And when she desperately destroys the casing around the automaton, believing herself to be freeing a boy like her, are those the actions of an “efficient” consciousness, or of a child encased in steel?). I can imagine, in the world of League P&Z, scientific and philosophical debates regarding the nature of Orianna’s existence (what makes her more human than machine? More machine than human? Is it her lingering connections to memory? To emotions? Or something else entirely?).

All of this to say, that there are some interesting questions to be explored through the way in which “Orianna”, whether she is an identity, a physical being, or something else entirely, emerged through Corin's gradual and necessary removal of her physical body. Making Singed and Corin Reveck the same person strips away these complexities.

Both League and Arcane Singed are awful people. That is undeniable. Regardless of his reasoning or emotions, Singed did unspeakable things to Vander, and was a catalyst for much of the violence, or its escalation, in Arcane, particularly with his production of shimmer in line with Silco’s aim of weaponizing and distributing the substance in the undercity. The circumstances of Orianna’s creation, with Singed noting that everything he had been doing was for his love of Orianna, are thus tinged with a layer of ethical wrongdoing so thick that not even Jesus Viktor could remove it. Similarly, Orianna was not replaced slowly, with the mechanical equivalents of her limbs and organs. She appears to have been yeeted back into existence with the magic shenanigans in S2 Act 3. Any interesting questions about Orianna’s identity, in my opinion, are overshadowed by the starting premises that, yes, Orianna should not have lived or been brought back to life in Arcane, if it meant that the horrible things that Singed, whether directly or indirectly, had done to the people of P&Z could have been avoided, and yes, Orianna in her current form may literally not be herself because we have seen the hexcore/multiverse/ascended hivemind Viktor shenanigans play out already. And this doesn’t even touch on the lack of agency that Orianna has in Arcane, as an unconscious thing for Singed to show the audience for sympathy points, versus the Orianna we get from League lore, who consciously made the choice to disobey her father to help Zaunites and was conscious and present throughout the entire process of her body modification/replacement.

The League lore also sets up an interesting exploration of how patriarchal power is used and its relationship to the mechanical female body—Corin comes off as not only overprotective of his only daughter, something that could also stem from class considerations towards Zaun, but as a sort of “Prospero” figure, guiding and warning his daughter to never venture outside of their neighbourhood in Piltover (like Prospero’s warnings to Miranda), while only permitting her to indulge in fantasies that he approves as “appropriate” for her (e.g. theatre performances). Even when he builds Orianna her artificial lungs, Corin keeps the key to these lungs in a safe, to prevent Orianna from leaving his sphere of authority.

When they do move to Zaun, Orianna not only takes on the traditional role of the breadwinner due to her father’s ailing health, but is in some ways able to gain more agency in her interactions with other elements of the world, such as the chembaron. When Orianna decides to make the choice to save her father, she takes with her the last object that he can use to maintain some form of control over her. While his control is not framed as intentionally abusive, it does lead to questions about how Orianna’s feelings of “detachment” from her sense of self may also be tied to the control that her father exercises concerning her physical agency.

None of this was explored in Arcane, and I never expected the show to focus so much on these kinds of issues for minor secondary characters, but that’s exactly the problem. By introducing us to Singed as “Corin Reveck,” and effectively tying him with Orianna and the intriguing possibilities available through the existing lore, Arcane, which has now ended in terms of its story, ends up failing to deliver any sort of exploration of these issues. Orianna and Corin could have been left as a side story in an Arcane spinoff, or as a cinematic like the Annie origins cinematic, etc. but because the Arcane writers seem to want to make everything “interconnected,” it just feels like we missed so much potential, and even if we did get something on these issues, it feels, from the path that the showrunners have gone so far, that they would narrow these possibilities to whatever can fit the ”interconnected stories” narrative.

Not everything needs to be tied to something else to be good, it can just be good—tying Singed of all people to Orianna’s story was the strangest of these kinds of choices made in Arcane S2, especially when we could have just explored Singed as Singed (i.e. exploring ethics in science from a broader perspective), and hopefully I’ve been able to explain why.

*Note: the above is just my opinion, so please ignore if you feel so inclined.

[seithr]

powerful sorcerer with magical storm blood who can still magic and rend minds and transform people btw

[zeb-z]

Bad has so many reasons to be cautious, even paranoid, as anyone else on the island. From Federation nonsense to Dapper being kidnapped to the whole purgatory nonsense to whatever fuckass suit of armor “old friend” was setting up cameras in his house. But it compounds on his regular overly aware paranoid self to this state of hyper-paranoia. And as a demon who can and usually will lie, cheat, steal, and use sneaky underhanded tactics, he expects the craziest extent because he thinks of it, realizes it’s possible, and would use it himself. We saw this very obviously in purgatory - when he thought greens desperate last ditch effort to balance the scale was a super planned out tactic to tip the scale, so he did it first, all the hardcore base hunting, the spawn killing, there’s a reason every other tactic he used usually followed a main channel qsmp post with updated rules - all usually things he was surprised no one else thought of. But then this also piles onto the fact that he has to have things go his way, all the time, and that he’s argumentative as all get out, which led to the debate between him and Bagi yknow. Especially because he’s not just doing it for the sake of being right, he doesn’t think he’s paranoid, but that he’s exercising the right amount of caution.

So like. Listen dude. Yeah he’s got reasons to be paranoid. But his thought process around building vaults for separate cookie caches like they locked up the risus pills, only to scrap it because it’s not perfectly impenetrable, is extreme. His character has hardly been a leading example in someone who has reasonable reactions to things. And even when there isn’t his own children’s livelihoods potentially on the line, he has a need for control, and the most control he has is if he keeps the cookies in his inventory at all times. If he makes himself the sole point in which the others can get ones in a case of emergency, then he can control the variables. The problem is he’s unreliable about himself when he’s at his most rational and healthiest, and he’s far worse with the current memory and health issues he’s been mostly unaware of.

I dunno it’s like. There is never going to be a purely impenetrable base. And it’s not just a case of “Bagi just hasn’t lived through __ yet!”. Bad’s own logic about keeping the cookies on him at all times is flawed under his own logic, because Bagi is right - if someone has enough drive to break into separate secured cookie caches purely for the downfall of eggs, they more than certainly have enough drive to find a way to kill Bad and just take them from his inventory, or to just kill the eggs themselves. All it truly does is give Bad a sense of control, and soothe his paranoia.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Sunforge

sequel to The Dawnhounds

fantasy/scifi with bio- cyber- & god-punk elements

follows a crew of revolutionary pirates who become stranded in a city in ruins, overrun by a hostile militia, who must find a way to the people who can help them disable the technology that’s stopping them from escaping

and find themselves pulled deeper into the conflicts and history between the strange gods who give them their powers, and the complex history of their world

mainly centres Kiada, told between flashbacks of her past in the city, and the present

arc from the author! out August 6