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user947468 · 2 days ago

Text

The Game Within | Chishiya Shuntarou Fanfiction

Originally posted on ao3! @user951250

Chapter 3/20

Prompt ; You get trapped in a TV show, dedicated to stick by the rules of the game you hid in the shadows, watching from a distance, acting clueless. But what happens when you’re also being watched?

Note: this is a very long chapter, and kinda lazily written, very sorry.

You actually miss the shitty pull over now- something you never thought you would say- for every step through damp ground and each time goosebumps covered you in waves of bitterness you pined for some form of heat. And each time you thought you might be desperate enough to turn around and go find it you remembered.. well everything the shirts went through. Snot, gasoline, dusty floors, rushing waters.. poor thing had a hell of a run, as ugly as it was. You also figured your physical state was taking a toll on you mentally after you caught yourself pitying a piece of clothing.

Despite the aching in your joints and numbing chill that surrounded you, you didn't find yourself to loath the walk back after the first few miles. On the contrary of the various physical activities you endured, it was much preferable to walk at a steady pace. A familiar stride, one foot in front of the other- with no time limit or stress escorting you. You were satisfied to find you remembered your way back to the arena, and for the tire marks that smeared across the road, paving your way back to the beach. It also gave you time to think, to process the mental fuck the game gave you- and to think over what you were going to do next. At first your brain fought off any coherent thoughts that came to you, it was too harsh and abrasive to think about how this situation benefited you when multiple people just died in a game you attended- and it only made it worse when the weight in your stomach slowly untethered in the same hour the game ended.

You hated how desensitized you were becoming to death, and how fast it seemed to be happening- you were sick of yourself, in a selfish way, to fall into senseless ways of the game. You were no better than every other blind drunk at the beach, doing as said then drowning their madness with alcohol. You didn't want to think about how this would affect you in the long run.

But this situation gave you something you never had before- something valuable to no one but yourself. It gave you a timeline, you would now know how close you were to the face cards- to the ten of hearts game, how close you were to going back- if you simply observed the passing days to come. If you were calculating right- which after your missing memory's about the club game, you were second guessing yourself- you only had to join one more game if you got a card number higher than 5; or two more if you got anything lower than a 4- before the beach was a resource you could no longer lean back on.

At the thought of the beach you cautiously grazed your thumb across the card in your pant pocket for what seemed like the twentieth time, reassuring that you didn't forget the piece of plastic nor did it maliciously disappear into the night. The farther you traveled the darker the night became, you had a hard time navigating the tire tracks and your own hands were nothing but a blurry silhouette in front of you, which makes sense why you couldn't be bothered to try and decipher exactly what the warm white haze was you were passing, and why your pulse quickened and you quickly shifted backwards when you heard a sharp hiss coming from it. Thankfully you've never heard of a snake with white fur or tall ears before (could you imagine? death by venomous snake after surviving in a world full of unceasing death games?), so your initial panic subsided when you fully took in the feline in front of you.

It truly looked like a mesh of unruly bright hair from afar, even more like a duster of some sort up close, no wonder you hadn't immediately recognized that cat for what it was. It's fur was surprisingly clean, ears pointed and a waving tail- you're not even sure if the cat had any other eye color except the jet black you could see, he? she? was squinting at you with what you could only recognize as irritation. You must have stepped on it's tail. Your hands hung up in surrender, "Uh- sorry?"

Did it even matter if you apologized to the cat?

You felt like a suspect under interrogation while it peered at you, sniffing in your direction furiously as you tried to make yourself seem less intimidating- after all you didn't want the damn thing to bite you. What if it had rabies?

Almost like it understood your thoughts, the cat's gaze turned its questioning one into one of disinterested, almost like it was bored of you already. Alright, bad accusation on your part you suppose. Slowly the fuzzy bundle got up, stretching its hind legs and trotting over to you just close enough for its tail to curl around your calf. Pleased the cat seemed to tolerate your presence- even after you injured its tail- you crouched to course the cat's head timidly, having to place a hand on your thigh to stabilize yourself. It swiftly arched away from your hand.

"Seriously?"

The cat meowed back in response. Warily you looked around; partially because it was still pitch black, and you were alone in the middle of nowhere with no sign of light in a fifty feet radius- partially because you were talking to a cat out loud.

"Fine then," you huffed, feeling rather petty than you knew you should've been- and continued to your string of tire marks. Despite the radical reactions of the cat, whenever you looked behind yourself, the cat stood a few feet away.

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

When you woke up the first thing you noticed was the brightness peaking through your curtains, in the few hours that you've been back on the beach the weather change drastically; clear blue sky's and beaming sun rays- not a cloud could be seen over the horizon. You should've been enjoying the weather, letting the rays cover your body- an absent warmth you wished for last night- but you couldn't find yourself too. It was four in the morning when you finally got back to the beach, an extra fifteen minutes when a duo of militants with ridiculously large ego's tried accusing you of trespassing- even after you stared dumbly down at your swimming attire and ranked bracelet they didn't seem to get it. It took you practically waving the game card in their face's for them to let you through.

You laid in bed for 5 minutes- 10 - 15 - 20- by the time it hit 5 AM you were still wide awake. Images from your game hung in your mind like picture frames; the injured man, the charging water's, the tagged bus that you dreaded ever seeing again, the forgotten motorcycle... you needed a way to keep track, to make sure all is not unremembered. A mistake of memory is not something you could afford, especially not now. Luckily in each room, in the second shelf of the dresser, there was a cheap notepad and a hotel branded pen- neither were of great quality but it would have to suffice for just this night. By the time you feel asleep- with papers messily thrown across your floor and ink stained fingers- you filled a quarter of the pages top to bottom, they looked like a abnormal scatter of lose words, sentences and phrases that would not read anything close to rational to anyone but yourself. And when your own memories didn't even make sense to yourself, your sleepless brain drew small doodles that would hopefully mean something to you later that day.

It wasn't until you poorly gathered your papers and stuffed them in a storage bin under your bed did you leave your room, it was earlier afternoon and you could already hear the obnoxious pop song's blaring from outside. For the first time a drink didn't sound unpleasant, rather suitable knowing that it would help relax your tense figure. You also desperately needed to find a better source of ink.. and a shirt. Everywhere you wandered beams of light somehow found there way into your eyes- It was doing wonders for what felt like the beginning of a migraine- but the liquor helped ever so slightly. Apart from roaming around various parts of the beach that gave you a clear outlook for any familiar faces and sipping on your drink, you had nothing to do.

Actually, there were things you could do- things you should do- things that were a lot more beneficial and productive than drinking and sun bathing like a cat trying to regulate its body temperature. You were deprived of both sleep and calories, despite knowing they were crucial to your well being your curiosity to see the duo outweighed your own needs. It was a bad habit of yours, denying yourself the two. It made everything feel more like a bad dream rather than the actual abuse you were subjected to. It was a hard habit to shake- even more so after your games. You thought about the cat- how it stopped under a road lamp lit by the beach's generators, how it refused to follow you as you made you way up the drive way.

For a moment you felt you and the feline had the same purpose; observing, allowing to be seen but never letting anything get too close.

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

You kept yourself awake by the discomfort of massaging you legs, stretching your arms, smoking a cigarette- but it was long overdue you got some sleep, even an hour nap would be favorable. Somewhere in the three hours you were waiting you grew discouraged of seeing the couple at all today, and after yet another antagonizing thought you felt more prone to sleep than sociability. Leaning against the first pillars of the entrance you were finishing a rolled cigarette you snagged off of some party goers in the first hour, the pillar was rigid and poked into your lower back but it gave leeway on your feet at least. Scanning the herd of heads one last time before making you way to your room, it wasn't hard to identify the bleached shoulder length hair- especially when it was besides an up-do of dreads. Anytime you would of taken their appearance as an excuse to survey the two- but now you weren't in your right mind to even be around anyone- and funnily enough they gave the impression of almost wanting to be watched. They were facing you, but not looking directly at you per say- more like something beside you.. or maybe behind you?

You must of been more badly off than you previously thought from the way both their eye's slowly moved over to you- Jesus, you needed to get your head right-

"You're alive!"

Oh.

After figuring that you couldn't just ignore him and walk away- as much as your inside's screamed at you to get out of this situation- you turned around to fully look at Arisu. Wearing an relieved expression downplayed by the uneasy wringing of his fingers- you could understand why he was concerned, you haven't seen Usagi anywhere. Hell, you didn't even see Arisu for that matter. His reaction reminded you of when he first saw you and Takuma at the end of the hill. Not a pleasant memory. You took a few seconds to respond.

"Excuse me?"

Arisu looked embarrassed for a moment, "Sorry! I didn't mean anything by that, you know, its just after the club's game we didn't see you s'all."

You were fully aware of the eye's watching your every move.

"We? Your friend is alive then?"

"Takuma? Well, um, I don't.."

"No, the other one. The girl." You cut him off abruptly. You couldn't have him finish that sentence, you refused to hear it. Their stare's felt like they were inside your brain, searching and prodding- you were almost afraid they could.

"Oh! Yes, yeah- she's actually here too. Have you seen her anywhere?"

His speech slurred faster at the mention of Usagi, fidgeting stopping for a moment while he stared at you optimistically, it made you bite back a small smile. Lightly you swayed towards the entrance, encouraging Arisu to follow you with a tilt of your head, "Well, if her greetings were anything like mine she should be coming down the stairs any minute now."

You needed to hid away.

Without question Arisu followed behind your back like a lost puppy, passive and obedient- it really was no wonder Chishiya used him as bait.

Their reunion was short and sweet; Usagi timidly making her way down the stairs, eyeing the couple swapping spit by the railing- your timely charge of the situation surprising yourself, Arisu calling her name cheerfully from the last step, Chishiya entering the room, Usagi's quickened pace and their (awkwardly long) muted eye contact, Chishiya examining the situation, his eye's running back and forth between the three of you trying to understand what you brought to the affair, locking eye's with Chishiya- him acknowledging your stare back, your skipped heartbeat, his raised eyebrows- you think Usagi let out some form of address to you before you walked away- although your not so sure- but you gave her a weak greeting in return.

This time you knew he was staring, and he knew you were too.

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

Cheering rang throughout your room, restlessly but affectingly jolting you awake. After screaming into your pillow, flushed and slightly embarrassed, you feel asleep- face still logged into the cotton, silently hopping you would suffocate while asleep. You didn't know how to respond to the contact, should you have a response at all? Arisu greeting you- especially in such a way- put you on Chishiya radar weather you liked it or not. It was an unspoken fact you realized as soon as he followed you into the room, a promise of sorts as soon as he looked your way. If he didn't notice your stares before he certainly would now- and your not sure if you could conceal yourself.

Leaving your room the chaos of the game invaded your senses entirely. You could see the pushing crowd's, smell the booze, not only hearing but feeling their chants through the floor. Every game day and every sighting of Hatter, you were ever more reminded of how much of a cult the beach was. A cult you were apart of, and even worse willingly. Despite the luxury the beach offered- this was not the 'free' place it claimed to be. Your still slightly surprised people choose to be ignorant to the situation, the facts were laid clear in front of them as soon as they arrived and yet they let themselves fall into Hatter's hands. Watching the mob merge and shift below you made you glad you joined yesterday's game after all- the crowd was ten times the size it was yesterday.

You wanted to go down and eat- or maybe watch for Arisu before his game but you briskly tossed those idea's after seizing the size of the crowd, and decided going back to your room was more fit when you were in sight of a light- dull and small, but present. You had a camera not to far from your door, hidden in the far border of the hallway- you would glance at it from time to time, a tick you picked up after seeing it cords peak out from behind a plant- it was never turned on. But it was now. You could only imagine Chishiya's reaction after finding the security system- unused and forgotten. You could only imagine his current reaction behind the screens.

How much could he see of you now?

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

When the roar of car engines finally ceased- followed by the cheering participants, you predicted it was a good enough time to leave your room without seeing any recognizable face. You predicted Usagi to have hidden away in her room by now- jugging on how uncomfortable she seemed to be around the public earlier, and you knew Chishiya and Kunia never stayed out for any meal, instead venturing off into their own rooms- well as of recently into Chishiya's room- which made sense for their on-going plan.. Although you did hear some thought provoking whispers about them once.

The camera was off when you left your room.

Thankfully the central area was vacated, the herd of people from earlier shuffled out by the bar, still as loud and feral as before- the kitchen walls did good muffling them. As pleased as you were you couldn't help but think bitterly about how the sound proof walls would've made more sense in the solo rooms, why did a kitchen need to be silent anyways?

Your favorite thing about the beach- besides the ruining water, of course- was their ability to locate and find fresh food in the city. Even though it vaguely reminded you of middle school cafeteria food- it was better than cold canned soup for every meal. The only hot food they were serving was some type of chili- which actually took you a while to realize. It was bright red and strangely watery, it even had small chunks of what looked like a meat of some sort? You held the serving spoon up, examining the contents of the dish- they could've told you it was made of ketchup and water and you wouldn't have been surprised.

"Gross, isn't it?"

They sounded as put off as you felt. "Are they sure it's even edible?" You questioned, more to yourself than to the man. "I wouldn't take the chance," He mused, you heard the shifting of the man jacket as he moved.

Slowly turning the spoon sideways, you watched as the fluid dropped back into the pot with a wet splat! Yuck. Fruit and packaged goods would have to do. While giving it a last stir, trying to identified what exactly the meat was- cubed hot dogs? Actual ground beef? You doubted it, - a plastic wrapped sandwich slid in front of you.

"Much more suitable, yes?"

If you hadn't picked up on the pearly white sleeve's of the man jacket, or the dark eye's that peered at you from your peripheral vision- you would've hummed in agreement, took the sandwich and thanked the man before making your way outside- but you tensed up. The disgust on your face dropped entirely, leaving you pale and dry in the mouth- holding your breath when you felt you were breathing to hard and mind ruining on nothing but white noise. You eyed the man beside you cautiously- Chishiya was grabbing a sandwich of his own, paying little mind to you at your new found uneased state- or at least had the courtesy to ignore it.

Leaving Chishiya and the highly likely poisoned sandwich behind you, you speedily make your exit- grabbing two small apple's on your way. Were you terrified? Yes. Were you also starving? Absolutely.

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

When Arisu got back it was long after sun down, although their group was one of the first back- the game's were funny like that. Some easy but antagonizingly slow, others vigorous and gory, but twenty times faster than the others. You've heard of lengthy and laborious games before, but those were one of those things you've never heard being too truthful- things you could only pray you never have the misfortune of encountering.

Fearful of facing Chishiya again you stayed in the crowd, choosing a seat that crammed with other's- until the smell of sweat and sour beer's got to much and you had to relocated- although you were able to ignore those quality's for the first hour, until not even getting tipsy could help you for being overstimulated at the slight brush of someone's shirt against your arm. You laid out on a lounge chair - which proved to be much more accommodating than the wood stool- and basked in the cleaner air and open space. It could've been more relaxing if you were constantly replaying your interaction's with Chishiya. Could anyone blame you? From rarely ever seeing the man to staring and speaking in the same 24 hours would cause anyone to ruminate.. right?

You were sprawled out, loose limb's and resting eye's, if you could see yourself in third-person you're sure you would've looked something close to dead. Sure as fuck felt like it.

Arisu and Usagi noticed you first. When you heard the approaching sound of footsteps you thought nothing of it, it was a public space- kinda inevitable to hear wasn't it? You didn't flinch when the seat next to you squeaked with newly added weight, or when the sound of a conversation commenced. At length you eventually did open your eyes when you heard a fast exhale of what sounded like your name, a name you only gave too three- Takuma, who then told Arisu, and Hatter when he asked you to 'present yourself.' At first you were a little shocked to see them, which you mentally slapped yourself on the wrist for being so inattentive to your surroundings, but it did make some sense. You were the only person here they knew- besides Chishiya, but he closed the door to Arisu's death didn't he?- You've been here longer, and you've helped them in game's, unlike some people.

You eyed the two, a little muddled on what they expected from you. "Nice to see you two, still alive."

You thought it was a little funny, a playing on Arisu's own words. Thankfully he seemed to get it, a small smile and a shake of his shoulder's. Even Usagi, who you didn't expect a reaction of out surprised you- giving you a tiny grin of her own.

"Yeah, you too. Although I never thought I'd get to speak to you,” There was a glint in her eye's as she stared at you, not unfriendly but not fully comfortable either. “I thought you didn’t understand Japanese?”

So used to seeing Arisu and Usagi together you guessed you mentally associated them as the same person, what ever he know’s she know’s and vice versa- but it made sense she had yet to be aware you spoke Japanese- no words exchange during your joined club game, and a silent greeting this afternoon. You could understand her wariness considering your silent lie but you felt the need to defend yourself.

“Well, I can… that's just something I say. You never know what type of person you’re in a game with, who they are and what they stand for- it’s kind of like a protection tactic. The less they know about you, the better. It's safer that way."

It was a little uncomfortable, switching the topic to something with a heavier meaning so quickly to protect yourself- and usually you strayed away from being too exposed and vulnerable- especially in the public eye- but the understanding looks they gave you seemed like the right card to play. You hated how their sympathy- the small sliver of humanity they shared with you almost made you feel like you were a normal person and not a hallucination made of carbon.

"I guess that's one benefit of being a foreigner. Could you imagine if me or Usagi tried to pull that card?"

It was somewhat dull of a joke, and terribly obvious he was trying to make light of the situation, but amusing enough that once you and Usagi shared a simultaneous peer at each other you both couldn't help but huffing out a few chuckles. Arisu seemed exceedingly proud of himself at that- he couldn't hid that well, nor could he hide how smitten he was for the girl- the poor man practically lost a few brain cells watching Usagi laugh, as stupid as his joke was. There was a short quiet period after, but it was the farthest thing from awkward. The couple seemed to be more comfortable being around someone that knew the place they themselves were unfamiliar with, it had it's benefits for them definitely- but it wasn't something you should let carrier on, for your own sake. Arisu broke the silence first.

"Hey, if you understood the game, why did you stay in the bus?"

The tone of his voice, innocent and blameless, still makes you want to curl into a ball and disappear into the lawn chair. You refused to look away from an empty tube floating aimlessly in the pool and shrugged, "Unlucky suicide attempt?" was all you could offer. From a certain angle, when the pool lights hit just at the right direction, it looked like the float was a glowing neon pink- and you wished Arisu didn't ask any more question's.

"Hey,"

And somehow this was worse.

"Is this your girlfriend?"

With quick eye's and a dense gut your vision jumped from person to person, place to place- for a familiar face until you were left certain he was no where to be seen. You relaxed every so slightly but your nerves were still on fire- you were over staying your share, you almost forgotten about Kuina and the militants entirely- you missed Arisu and Usagi defensively arguing back. You were getting too comfortable.

"You want to sit down? I was just about to leave." You made sure to stand up before she had a chance to reply. The quickness of motion made your legs lock up stiffly.

You noticed she looked pleasantly surprised- giving a more genuine smile and kind thanks- and than that she looked even better up close. It almost made the dull throb of your legs worth it.

Arisu winced, "Still sore, huh?"

"Very." He had no idea.

After a brisk round of 'goodnight's' you made your escape to your room, doing your best to ignore the abandoned sandwich on the kitchen counter, and the red dot that followed you like a laser down the hall.

#aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya shuntaro x reader #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya x you #fem reader #reader insert #x reader #chishiya shuntaro x you #alice in borderland

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arcane-ish · 1 day ago

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A few personal notes:

I think the "Remember Me" flashbacks switch from being Vander's memories to being Vi's memories probably in the scene where they are boxing but at the latest where Connel and Felicia emerge from the mines. They are just scenes that area clearly from Vi's point of view (like looking into the pot of soup). However that doesn't change the overall conclusion that that time was fairly peaceful.

I think the headcanon that the Drowning happened at or after Felicia's funeral is very compelling. Combined with some minor "their memories are fuzzy and clouded by emotion" it would fit very well, including that in Jinx Fixes Everything the location where "Silco became Silco" is quite far away from the bridge.

Chemtech confuses me. I have to admit I kind of always assumed that it sort of developed in parallel with hextech and that it wasn't really strong enough to attack Piltover till Season 2. That that was sort of what Silco might have been doing between Act 1 and Act 2, building up the factories and making better hextech, hoping that it will become a better weapon and trade good than hextech eventually, and being disappointed that "Piltover is leaving them behind". That said I haven't really paid much attention to how prominent hextech is pre-Act 2.

Another thing that really bugs me is the air quality and the state of nature. Like why is the river that Viktor and Sky play in so much better when they are kids? Does that mean that Silco's chemtech factories polluted the river? When were the ventilation systems of the Kiramann's built? Did Vander and Silco in their golden days manage to make the air cleaner? Or did Silco in his solo reign make the air cleaner but the rivers worse? Silco's line to the chem barons suggest that the Grey was worse before? Maybe the area where the Lanes are were unlivable when SIlco and Vander were still young, then the Kiramann's build the ventilation system and Silco and Vander benefit from that and build up the lanes? Because another aspect that troubles me: if the mines were so terrible as per Silco, why are their friends Connel and Felicia still willingly working in the mines while Vi and Powder are small, presumably in the middle of the Vander and Silco golden age, where the Last Drop has long been established and Felicia could easily work at the Last Drop or as a smuggler? Why continue working at the mines? Either they vastly improved the working conditions or maybe these are differnet mines (maybe even mines that contribute to creating living space for the Lanes).

I think Zaun for a long term has had this lore element that there's a lot of infighting. Competing gangs or crime lords. This is suggested in season 2 where they act like there's basically mayhem on the street because the chem barons are fighting and it's referenced by Jinx that presumably after Vander's death there was a similar situation that Silco had to pacify (maybe by flooding the streets with Shimmer as Ekko suggests) "it's all going to shit. Chembarons warring for control of the Lanes. Wannabe street thugs squabbling over scraps. [scoffs] Just like when Vander shoved off. Except this time… you aren't here to put it all back together, " Maybe this is where the brought in the chem barons? Via the whole "where we came from" speech. Maybe before Silco, Vander and all of them lived in the sump. Then Vander and Silco start building up the Lanes, but some people are considered not good ally material so Vander and Silco fight them and they are banished from the Lanes. But when Silco comes into power he draws upon them to build up his reign "But I pulled you all up from the depths." When he says he gave them a taste of fresh air and topside does that mean that Silco improved the air quality? or that maybe before they were banished to the sump and then let up to Lane level or higher where the air is better?

There's a headcanon which I personally don't like, but I call "Vander was always mostly peaceful". Basically the idea that maybe Vander and Silco did comparatively little fighting topside outside the Day of Ash. Like maybe they mostly fought the owners of the mines and then maybe various criminal gangs as they "Build the Lanes". And Vander effectively just wants to keep building and give people a relatively safe and comfortable life and Silco is okay with that building up mostly "till we are strong enough to be an army" and Day of Ash happens and on one hand it goes terribly wrong and Vander kills a lot of enforcers but he doesn't necessary like it. And when he meets Silco again Silco is basically "this is awesome, more of that, you killed so many and that's great" and then The Betrayal happens. (I personally prefer to headcanon pitfighter and/or crime lord Vander simply because I think it's cooler and it isn't just something like "Silco saw Vander pitfight, always thought he had the potential to be deadly to Pilties and goaded him into the Day of Ash and celebrated that Vander killed so many enforcers there, but Vander always pictured the Lanes more like as minding their own business and doing their own thing and not actively fighting Piltover that much". I could see a world where they are there in their hideout and brainstorming flags but Vander thinks only of the building up part and doesn't think legal independence is that important (till maybe he learns at some point that there are limits to how far they can grow) There's also the whole thing where in League lore there's also Urgot who has his own underground criminal kingdom in a "prison mine"

I think a lot of people sort of pull into that Piltover is alos a port city and that traditionally ports aren't necessarily the most high class places and that smuggling is a big deal there and so they headcanon that mining wouldn't be the only low class job/the mines wouldn't be the only places that are considered both slightly seedy but also economically important.

I think a cool headcanon-y approach could be that in the past the mines had like conventional raw materials that are then refined in Piltover but that Piltover needs to make their goods. So in theory there is power potential if you threaten or control Piltover's supply. But maybe once hextech becomes more important that economic power disappears because Piltover now cares about different materials. So maybe whatever stunt Vander and Silco pulled wouldn't be as doable later because hextech is mined in Ixtal and not in Zaun. So it's like how the economy switching from coal based to oil based and how that leaves a place behind.

Piltover and Zaun Lore Deep Dive

I've been doing extensive research into the history of P&Z for a Silco and Vander origin story fic, and I figured it could be helpful to share my findings here too!

My main goal was to try and integrate known Arcane lore with League lore and iron out some of the creases, to nail down exactly what the world of P&Z looked like in Arcane. I've done a lot of extrapolating and theorising to make sense of it all, but if you're just interested in the raw data from canon, I've compiled all my notes on a Google Doc. All sources are listed throughout.

The contents of this post are as follows:

Part 1: Chronology (the timeline)

Part 1.1: Chronology in League of Legends

Part 1.2: Chronology in Arcane

Part 1.3: Integrating the timelines

Part 2: Geography (the layout of P&Z)

Part 2.1: Existing maps of Piltover and Zaun

Part 2.2: Geography in League of Legends

Part 2.3: Geography in Arcane

Part 2.4: Integrating the layouts

Part 3: Modern Zaun (ft. Silco and Vander)

Part 3.0: Preamble

Part 3.1: The timeline of Zaun’s creation

Part 3.2: Vander and Silco’s early life

Part 3.3: Golden age of Vander and Silco

Part 3.4: After the betrayal

Part 4: Wrap-Up

Summary of the timeline

~~~

Part 1.1: Chronology (League of Legends)

Information derived from the LoL Fandom Wiki and official LoL website, with most details corroborated by various Reddit threads and similar forums. BN means Before Noxus, and AN means After Noxus.

6000-5000 BN: Westward Migration. Humans began to migrate from the eastern hemisphere to the western hemisphere, towards the Shuriman Continent. Settlers founded many new nations and cities. Among these was a sea port called Oshra Va’Zaun (also referred to in some places as Osha Va’Zaun or Kha’Zhun, but I went with what was most consistently used on the Wiki). Oshra Va’Zaun connected the Shuriman Continent to Valoran via an isthmus, or artificial land bridge, that allowed for free trade between the continents and also comprised docks from which sailors could travel in and out. The people of Oshra Va’Zaun worshipped Janna (then known as Jan’ahrem), the wind spirit. As a spirit god, she relies on prayers to keep her strong. Sailors and merchants would pray for calm seas, and she would deliver.

2000-3 BN: Various Wars. The fall of the Shuriman Empire (2000 BN), the Darkin War (550 BN) and the Rune Wars (25-3 BN) all took place during this time. Janna protected Oshra Va’Zaun from every conflict, preventing it from becoming rubble.

772 AN: The Collapse. The people of Oshra Va’Zaun planned to destroy a portion of the isthmus connecting Valoran and the Southern Continent, allowing for safe sea passage between eastern and western Valoran. The plan was to use thousands of Chemtech bombs to crack open an area of the land so that a cavern could be created. Instead, the bombs triggered a series of earthquakes that completely destroyed the isthmus and sank large districts of Zaun. Thousands of citizens were killed, and poisonous gases leaked into the city’s surviving areas. Allegedly, Janna saved many of the citizens by holding back the seas to prevent floods.

790 AN: Piltover is Established. Over the last 18 years, the ruins of Oshra Va’Zaun underwent extensive reconstruction. The Sun Gates were established to regulate travel through the oceanic passage that had opened up where the isthmus used to be. This essentially forced all ocean transport through these waters, which brought wealth to the city and spurred the development of Piltover - named after its construction over the Pilt River. Merchant clans dominated the trade route and built up towards the sky, while those still living in the ruins built down into the fissures.

~~~

Part 1.2: Chronology (Arcane)

The only traces I could find of a timeline were on the League of Legends Universe Wiki, where birth years are given for several of the main characters. Most were given a range, as follows:

676 AN: Heimerdinger is born

959-963 AN: Jayce is born

961-968 AN: Viktor is born

966-970 AN: Caitlyn is born

967-971 AN: Vi is born

972-976 AN: Jinx is born

In Season 1 Act 1, Heimerdinger specifically states that he is 307, and Jayce states that he is 24. The writers also stated that 7 years had passed between Acts 1 and 2. This gives us a good base to work from, especially since Heimerdinger's birth year is the only one that is dated precisely. 676 + 307 = 983; thus, Act 1 takes place in 983 AN, and Act 2 onwards takes place in 990 AN. Working backwards, we can determine that Jayce was born in 959 AN, and everything works itself out from there.

676 AN: Heimerdinger is born. He is 307 (Act 1) / 314 (Act 2 and beyond).

959 AN: Jayce is born. He is 24 / 31.

961 AN: Viktor is born. He is 22 / 29.

966 AN: Caitlyn is born. She is 17 / 24 (honestly 17 seems too old to me based on what we see of her in Act 1, but 966 is the earliest year listed on her wiki page, so this is what I’m running with).

967 AN: Vi is born. She is 16 / 23.

972 AN: Jinx is born. She is 11 / 18.

983 AN: Events of Act 1. Key events here are the raid on the Kiramman warehouse and the subsequent invention of Hextech.

990 AN: Events of Act 2. At the start of Act 2, Heimerdinger says that Piltover is turning 200, so this works out perfectly with the League of Legends timeline.

~~~

Part 1.3: Chronology (Integrated)

So, how exactly do Arcane and League lore fit together? The answer essentially boils down to: there isn't one. Everyone in every thread has a different solution, and the timeline is so messy that there is even a dedicated Wiki page to all the various contradictions. I'm going to spend this final section developing my own theories and solutions based on what I know; feel free to take or leave any of this.

Pre-772 AN: From everything I’ve read, it seems like there are hardly any indications of Zaun and Piltover’s history before the events of the main timeline. There is no mention of Janna at all in Arcane, but subtle imagery of her is sprinkled throughout the art, which suggests that she could still be a figure present in the history and protection of Zaun. Thus, I think we can reasonably assume that everything was much the same up to the collapse. There don't seem to be any lore inconsistencies prior to 772 AN that would make the timeline impossible (other than Heimerdinger having supposedly lived through the Rune Wars, but Yordle lore is a whole different ball game that I'm not even going to touch lmao).

Post-772 AN: From the collapse onwards, there are two main issues I ran into in getting the lore to match up. One of these issues is the absence of the Sun Gates in Arcane. Instead, the Hexgates play the role of facilitating trade, which is treated like a new and revolutionary invention. This raises questions regarding how exactly Piltover came to prosper for ~2 centuries before Hextech. It’s possible that the Sun Gates did exist at a point in time, but were destroyed for one reason or another before we get to the main timeline. Otherwise, it could just be that they flourished through maritime trade for a while without the Sun Gates, given that they are still positioned at the intersection between continents (the Hexgates facilitate air travel, not sea travel, so that would have still been a pivotal change). The council is made up of wealthy merchant clans, which suggests that Piltover was still a place of high traffic for traders. We also know that Piltover and Zaun are realms of innovation, and with Heimerdinger at the forefront of Piltover’s establishment, it seems viable that they had a lot to offer that made Piltover attractive to other regions. This also raises the question of what exactly Piltover was inventing before Hextech, but I'm going to shelve that question, as it integrates slightly better with the next section.

The other issue that came up is with regards to Chemtech. In League lore, Chemtech is consistently listed as “Zaun’s answer to Hextech”. The Wiki also mentions that it has existed in Zaun “since the early 900s AN”, but wasn’t widely used until “the later half of the 900s AN”. There are two issues with this. Firstly, the lore specifically mentions that Chemtech bombs were used to explode the land in 772 AN, which means that it did exist before the 900s. The second issue is that Hextech was not invented until 983 AN, which contradicts the notion that Chemtech was “Zaun’s answer” to it. We see green lights all over the Lanes in Arcane Episode 1, so it was definitely in use before Hextech existed. So the questions that arise are 1) What was the timeline of Chemtech usage in Zaun?, 2) Why wasn’t it ever used in Piltover?, and 3) Why was Piltover the city that prospered through trade and innovation, if Zaun was the one who had Chemtech?

I think the most sensible answer to question 2 is simply that it's toxic. People in Piltover are terrified of change, judging by the council’s reaction to magic the first time Jayce brings it up. If a Chemtech bomb was what caused the destruction of Oshra Va’Zaun in the first place, it makes sense that Piltover would have avoided using it. This could also help with the answer to question 1. If we believe that Chemtech wasn't widely used in Zaun until the 900s, it could just be that they were afraid to touch it again for a very long time after the collapse. That just leaves question 3, and I think to answer this, we need to return to that earlier question of what exactly Piltover invented/traded that cemented their position of affluence. The official League webpage for Piltover talks extensively about Hextech, and also includes images of Piltover's inventions under the umbrella of "Hextech". However, there are three images in that category that stand out to me as different:

In the bottom series of pictures, three of the images are in black and white, and look more like sketches than the fully-rendered designs of the other inventions. The first of these images is just a string of merchant clan sigils, which don't give us all that much information. What I'm most interested in are the second image, which is a dome-shaped streetlight:

And the third image, which is a "Pneuma-Tube Conduit":

The black-and-white design of these makes them look older, as opposed to the modern designs of objects like the gauntlets, which we know are newer. That indicates that these inventions existed before Hextech. The light source looks like it has a wire running through it and a switch of sorts, which suggests that they had some form of electricity. Another possibility is that it functions using solar power, given that the Zaunites, despite being inventors in their own rights, seem to rely mostly on Chemtech for light and haven't been able to built light sources that can pierce darkness/the Grey. It would make sense if they simply don't get the sunlight down there to operate them properly.

The pneuma tube is the most notable to me, given that it seems to match the tube Grayson gives Vander in Episode 1 as a method of contacting her ("this will reach me, and only me") - again, before Hextech existed. What's interesting about that tube is that, when I went back to the scene where Vi decides to turn herself in, the tube arrives with a puff of gas and a small lime-coloured light that turns on. There's also a green-tinted lamp in the police station where they appear to be located. It looks very Chemtech-like, which I'm intrigued by; it makes me wonder if Piltover actually does use Chemtech to some extent, but in much smaller doses with extensive safety measures to keep the gases from escaping.

I also found a Weebly website, which looks very unofficial (i.e. I cannot verify any of the information on there) but has a ton of lore for various regions, including the only mention I could find of a Piltovian energy source that wasn't Hextech. The site mentions that Piltover uses liquids and gases from a nearby marsh to power the city. This seems like a viable option to me, especially given the detail of the gases coming off the tube, and the images of factories with smoke coming from the underground. So I guess, rather than being Zaun's "answer" to Hextech, Chemtech is more like the toxic and volatile version of the various controlled gases and liquids that Piltover uses as an energy source.

On the topic of other things Piltover invented, here are some additional notes from my research:

Weaponry - There are guns everywhere in Piltover, particularly for the Enforcers. Presumably one of the wealthy clans had to manufacture these.

Tools - We know that the Talis family gained wealth and notoriety for their invention of various tools, including mostly hammers and the "collapsible pocket wrench".

Lock System - Amanda Overton stated that the Kirammans became wealthy for building "the very important lock system in the channel that first allowed trade between regions". I suppose this must have been instead of the Sun Gates, if we're assuming they don't exist?

Other Systems - The Kirammans also appeared to be the ones who built the underground ventilation system for Zaun. The tube conduit is also an example of a miscellaneous system invented by someone in Piltover, as well as presumably whatever wiring system allows the streetlights to function.

Machinery/Machine Parts - It's mentioned in League lore that the Medarda clan became wealthy for their invention of the piston, which is part of an engine. It's unclear whether this is still the case in Arcane, though.

Prosthetics - In the story The Lady of Clockwork, it's said that Corin Reveck was renowned for his design of prosthetics. Arcane canon calls him a "revered academy alchemist", so it seems like his creations there had more to do with chemistry and magic, but prosthetics could have been the specialty of someone else in Piltover.

Clockwork - I've also seen Corin Reveck described as a clockwork inventor, so revolutionary clocks and time-based inventions could have also come out of Piltover.

Cameras - Caitlyn has a camera in Act 1 when she's investigating the crime scene after the Firelights raided Silco's shipment. The flash has a blue tint, so this could have been a Hextech invention, but I was interested to see that it had a green pipe running along the side; perhaps it was a Zaunite camera that she asked Jayce to modify for her.

Food/Drink - In S1E4, it's mentioned that Councillor Hoskel ships wine to Noxus. Perhaps some clans in Piltover accumulated wealth from unique food/drink products that other regions could not cultivate.

Various Gadgets - Mel's very first scene shows her choosing a gift for Hoskel from an assortment of mechanical gadgets. These could have been a smaller byproduct of Piltover's invention boom. This category also covers the items in Jayce's lab, many of which seem to be assorted gadgets like the nose hair trimmer, the spinning mobile on the ceiling and the "real Valdiani".

So, to recap, here's a summary of the integrated timeline for P&Z in Arcane:

Pre-772 AN: Westward migration led to the establishment of the sea port of Oshra Va'Zaun. Wars ravaged the Shuriman Continent, but Oshra Va'Zaun was protected through all of it, until their own innovation caused the collapse of the isthmus via Chemtech bomb.

Post-772 AN: Piltover was gradually built over the ruins, and formally established in 790 AN. Meanwhile, those still living underground were forced into labour, working in the mines and factories to provide for Piltover's inventions. Piltover became richer and richer as trade increased, while the people of Zaun had nothing themselves.

959-972 AN: Births of the leading cast members. Jayce is the oldest, and Jinx is the youngest.

983 AN: Events of Act 1. Vi, Powder, Mylo and Claggor raid the Kiramman warehouse. Hextech is invented. Vander turns himself in for the raid, Silco intercepts the arrest, and Vander, Mylo and Claggor end up dead.

990 AN: Events of Act 2. The main Arcane timeline starts here.

~~~

Part 2.1: Geography (Maps)

Figure 1: Piltover and Zaun in the wider landscape of Runeterra (source)

Figure 2: Piltover trade routes per the Medarda Heirloom (source)

Figure 3: Piltover and Zaun map in Arcane (source)

Figure 4: Map of Piltover and Zaun from Jinx Fixes Everything (source)

Figure 5: Map of Piltover and Zaun from World Anvil (source)*

*I'm not sure of the exact source for this map; the page I found this from is a fanmade D&D campaign but the creator has a disclaimer that they sourced the artwork externally and do not own it.

Figures 6 and 7: Maps of P&Z from Arcane and the Medarda Heirloom respectively. The Arcane map has been rotated to align the structure of the land masses in the Medarda Heirloom.

~~~

Part 2.2: Geography (League of Legends)

In League, Zaun is built quite literally underneath Piltover; there are some absolutely beautiful official artworks depicting this. In the League version of Zaun, there are three levels, as per the Wiki page:

Promenade Level: The top level of Zaun. Described as an "entertainment and commercial zone", this is where Zaun's wealthy reside, and where the line between Piltover and Zaun blurs. Some of its features include a thriving marketplace on the boundary (several regions are named specifically; the Boundary Markets and the Skylight Commercia), a pump station to move clean air from Piltover into Zaun, and the College of Techmaturgy.

Entresol Level: The level just below Promenade, this is considered the main hub of activity for Zaunites. It's one of the most populated districts between the two cities, and is also where the Zaun Grey lingers most. Some of its features include augmentation parlours for prosthetics and other bodily augmentations, a breather station where Zaunites can find reprieve from the Grey, the Chemtech Seam in the cliffs where compounds for Chemtech are sourced, markets and greenhouses, and laboratories for science and invention.

Sump Level: Zaun's deepest level where the light doesn't reach. It's chaotic and grim, with disorderly piping everywhere and discarded waste from Piltover. This is the origin of the Grey, from polluted waterways and grilles. Some of its features include a pump station for removing sewage, a prison mine where convicts are forced to mine Chemtech compounds, factories and warehouses, a surviving clock tower from Oshra Va'Zaun, densely-populated slums, the Black Lanes where merchants and thieves do business, sewers, an orphanage and an asylum.

Other Features: There's a large cliff in Zaun that makes up part of the Promenade Level, and is home to shipping docks and the Sun Gates. There are also Hexdraulic Conveyors in various locations throughout Zaun, which allow Piltovans to descend into Zaun - some available to the public, and some for private use, especially for the Chem-Barons and wealthy Piltovans.

As for Piltover, per the Wiki page, there are only two main regions - North Piltover and South Piltover:

North Piltover: Most of the clans have their mansions and "heavily guarded workshop compounds" here, in a region called Bluewind Court. The north also contains a menagerie, theatres and workshops, a promenade of cafes and bistros, and a region dedicated to banks and secure vaults for the wealthy.

South Piltover: Not much is mentioned of South Piltover, but it seems like it involves several shopping districts, more workshops and lavish residences, and the fissures where Zaun is located.

I recognised a lot of the location names on the Wiki from the map in Figure 5, so presumably the north just means everything north of the canal and the south is the region on the other side; then Zaun exists directly underneath southern Piltover, carved out of the land underneath the fissures.

~~~

Part 2.3: Geography (Arcane)

The geography in Arcane was a little confusing to make sense of. These are the changes noted on the Wiki:

The Sun Gates do not exist

The fissures are narrower

Zaun does not have three levels, instead being divided into the Lanes which each represent one of the fissures

The tallest tower in Zaun is now the Chem-Baron tower, which replaces the College of Techmaturgy

There are no Hexdraulic Descenders, instead replaced by smaller elevators

The Lanes in Zaun are home to Babette's brothel and The Last Drop

The Firelight Hideout is built in a large, abandoned sewer

The north and south parts of Piltover are connected by The Bridge of Progress

In mid-Piltover is the University of Piltover, located near the Hexgates, where most council meetings take place

Stillwater Hold is located on an island just outside the eastern part of the city

I've read a lot of other forum threads, and it seems like there's no real consensus on where exactly Zaun is located in relation to Piltover. Some people say it's still directly underneath southern Piltover, while others think the entire region across the bridge (see Figure 3) is now entirely Zaun. I get the impression that a lot of the confusion comes from Arcane visuals that make it look like Zaun is just everything on the other side of the bridge. Vander also describes the Undercity as "our side", making it seem like Zaun is that entire side of the region rather than just a part of it built underground.

Personally, I'm inclined to think Zaun is still predominantly underneath Piltover, judging by the maps in Figures 3 & 4 from Arcane canon. It seems like the Alcove District, Low Piltover and South Side Harbour are still part of south Piltover, while everything around the Fissures are part of Zaun. The scene in Season 1 Episode 1 where Vi and the kids are running away from the Enforcers also seems to support this. They run through a corridor, then slide down a sewer grate, into the underground where we can see all of Piltover's metal scraps and parts discarded as per the lore. I presumed, from this, that the first place they entered across the bridge was still part of Piltover, and then they went down the pipe to get to Zaun. Deckard confronts them before they take the elevator even further down, and we know that this confrontation happened on their "side", per Vi's conversation with Vander, so this was likely an upper part of Zaun.

Additionally, we see this wide shot as they run across the bridge:

Figure 8: Wide shot of the Bridge of Progress from Season 1 Episode 1, timestamp 13:01

Figure 8 shows Zaun/South Piltover on the left side of the bridge, and North Piltover on the right side. The architecture immediately across the bridge still looks very Piltovian, while towards the back of the image, we can see large green towers and smoke, more akin to Zaunite infrastructure. This makes me think there's still something like the Promenade level at the same altitude as south Piltover, where the lines between cities are blurred, but most of the activity takes place underneath. The maps from Arcane are also specifically labelled "Piltover", which further supports the idea that the entire region is Piltover, with most of Zaun lying underneath.

~~~

Part 2.4: Geography (Integrated)

I don't think Zaun was just made up of the Lanes, as the Wiki page seems to imply. There's a line from Silco in S1E3 in which he says "not just for the Lanes, but the whole of the underground united as one". It seems like the Lanes were the region Silco and Vander had control over ("you had my respect, the Lanes' respect" - Vander, S1E3), but there were other parts to the underground too.

There's a really useful Twitter post here that proposes one theory as to how Arcane and League geography can be integrated. As previously mentioned, I like the idea that the levels still exist to some extent. The Promenade level bleeds into South Piltover, and looks to be where many of the factories and warehouses are located judging by the smoke - as well as, of course, the Chem-Baron tower where Silco gasses them all in S1E7. This is also where the fight with Deckard happened. Every theory I've seen that incorporates the levels places The Last Drop on Entresol, so I'm inclined to say that's where the Lanes are located, with The Last Drop a central feature, and quite close to the Sump. And the Sump is where the mines are, all the way down in the lowest inhabitable (using that term very loosely) part of Zaun. There are also ruins of Oshra Va'Zaun underneath this where it's completely deserted.

~~~

Part 3.0: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Preamble)

So all of this brings me back to the question at the heart of it all: where do Silco and Vander fit in? There are three big questions I am aiming to answer in this section.

Question 1: What is the timeline of Silco and Vander's past?

Question 2: What did Zaun look like before Silco and Vander took control of it?

Question 3: What was their vision for Zaun and how far did they get with it?

Before I can get into answering those questions, I want to compile everything that we already know about Silco and Vander. From Arcane canon, here is what we're given:

Vander and Silco started as miners who "had nothing" (Silco's words, S1E9), and had a shared vision for what Zaun could have been. Silco talks very distastefully about his experience in the mines, describing "air so thick it clogged your throat, stuck in your eyes".

They are said to have "built the underground", according to Sevika (or, at the very least, she says that Vander built the underground).

Zaun was governed by Piltover and their council; Silco and Vander wanted Zaun to become an independent nation in its own right.

Silco’s description in S1E3: “We shared a vision, Vander. A dream of freedom. Not just for the Lanes, but the whole of the underground united as one. The Nation of Zaun.” In S1E9, he also says "everything we ever wanted" when he's talking to the Vander statue about Jayce's offer of peace, so all signs point to them having both been set on independence for Zaun.

Sevika says that "Silco spent his whole life trying to rally the Undercity together" in S2E4.

At some point, Felicia joined their fight, and the three of them were seen at The Last Drop together around the time of its founding. Sevika and Connol also knew them in their youth. I don't believe it's ever explicitly stated whether Benzo knew them back then, but Vander mentions him by name to Silco, which suggests a mutual connection.

Felicia speaks about the vision for Zaun as theirs, not hers, so it seems like her role was not quite as prominent as theirs in the actual conception and construction of Zaun.

Felicia encourages Silco and Vander to "figure this Zaun thing out", even if they have to "carve it out of the bedrock, covered in blisters". Much like Sevika using the word "built", this seems to imply a very literal kind of construction.

When Vi, Powder and co raid the Kirammans' warehouse, Vi mentions that it's exactly the kind of job Vander would've done when he was their age. We know that Vi was 16 at the time, and Mylo and Claggor were also both older than Powder, so presumably she means 15-16.

In S1E2, Vander tells Vi that when he was younger, he "was angry" about the treatment of Zaun by Piltover, and led the bridge riot that killed Felicia and Connol.

Using this post and the Arcane artbook as a guide, I also pulled information out of comments from the creators, which I'm regarding as canon-adjacent:

The Lanes is the black market area of the Undercity, created through Vander and Silco's smuggling operation that gave them the chance to make money outside of working as miners for topsiders.

Silco "grew up working in the mines", which is where Vander, Silco and Felicia met. It's also mentioned that this is why he was the only one who could tolerate the gas in S1E7, but he specifically says that the Chem-Barons used to work in the mines as well (“The mines they had us in” / “I pulled you all up from the depths”), so that seems inconsistent. I'm inclined to believe that it's a combination of him growing up in the mines and continuing to live on the Entresol level (in The Last Drop), while the others lived on the Promenade level.

Silco and Vander led a movement towards independence. Both were unhappy with the "oppressive feeling" of being "under the thumb of Piltover".

In the artbook, it's said that Silco hated the way he was treated by Piltover and wanted to prove that he was more than what the world had made him out to be. He and Vander "tried to build this world together", with the main goal of independence and pride for Zaun. Ultimately, there were limits to what Vander was willing to lose, while Silco always wanted to keep fighting no matter the cost.

There's an image of young Benzo with Silco, Vander and Felicia in the artbook, confirming the implication that he knew them at that time.

The bridge riot was incited after Benzo got arrested, and Silco was the one really pushing for the uprising; hence he was the one who threw the first Molotov cocktail. This was when Vander decided that violence was not the way to achieve peace.

Amanda Overton frequently refers to that riot as the "Day of Ash". I could only find one source on this, a Fandom Wiki page with no additional references cited. According to this page, the Day of Ash took place on December 1st 979 AN, and involved a protest march on the Bridge of Progress in which over 100 unarmed Zaunites were shot and 84 died on the spot. This seems inconsistent with what we see in canon (the "unarmed" part specifically; Silco throwing the Molotov, Vander beating up Enforcers with his mining gloves), but I'm listing it here anyway for full disclosure.

The drowning incident happened after the riot, apparently after Vander had already taken the kids (so I guess he came back for Silco??? Or it happened a few days after?).

Something else worth noting is that in the Season 2 flashback, Felicia says that "tonight", their dream of turning the underground into a community became a reality. This obviously marks a very significant date for them, and they toast to the occasion. My assumption was that this was meant to show us the opening of The Last Drop, and that's what I ran with for much of my analysis throughout this section; however, I don't think it's ever actually specified which milestone they're celebrating, so this detail is ultimately up to interpretation.

~~~

Part 3.1: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Timeline)

All of the wiki pages I've looked at place Silco at 37-39 in Act 1, and 43-46 in Act 2; and for Vander, 43 in Act 1 and 50 in Act 2 (in the AU/as Warwick). As far as birth years go, this would translate to 944-946 AN for Silco, and 940 AN for Vander.

At the time of The Last Drop's opening, Felicia is pregnant with Vi. That would place this scene in either 966 or 967 AN. I struggled to find an official reference for Arcane character birthdays, but Vi's birthday is very consistently celebrated on December 19th across the fandom, which puts us in early 967. That makes Silco and Vander 21-23 and 27 respectively. Based on what we see of Silco in that scene, I'm inclined to place him at the upper end of that range, or even a year or two older. So more like 39-41 in Act 1 and 46-48 in Act 2.

The Day of Ash is an interesting conundrum. 979 AN, as per the wiki article I found, would make Vi and Powder 12 and 7 respectively. I'm not sure how reliable the source is, and my personal estimate would have been 977-978 AN, factoring in the kids' ages and the time it would take for Silco to rebuild his life from scratch.

Combining all of this information, we get the following timeline:

940 AN: Vander is born

942-944 AN: Silco is born

966-967 AN: The Last Drop is opened

977-979 AN: The Day of Ash

For the next few sections, I'd like to have precise years to focus on, so I'm going to run with these dates:

940 AN: Vander is born. He is 43 / 50.

943 AN: Silco is born. He is 40 / 47.

967 AN: The Last Drop is opened. This marks the birth of modern Zaun.

978 AN: The Day of Ash. Silco is betrayed, and Vander swears off violence.

~~~

Part 3.2: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Early Life of S&V)

Content warning for discussions of slavery/slave labour in this section; I'll mark the paragraph that includes this with ~!!~ at the start just in case anyone wants to skip it.

It's pretty solid canon that Vander and Silco started as miners, and built up their world of Zaun from there. The mining tunnels run all along the fissures, as per this map from the Jinx Fixes Everything minigame:

Figure 9: Map of mining tunnels from Jinx Fixes Everything

I get the impression, based on the prevalence of the tunnels & Silco's dialogue to the Chem-Barons ("We had nothing" / "Have you forgotten where we came from? The mines they had us in?") that the underground, at the time, was mostly just mines.

~!!~ I'm particularly interested in how this fits in with the original League geography of the Sump, given that's where the mines are located. In League, the Sump included a prison mine for "Chemtech compounds", factories, warehouses, and slums where the workers lived. There's one particular factory mentioned which involved "slave labour camps" and "tightly controlled torture chambers". This is a very dark but plausible look into one possibility for the Undercity's past. Since Silco and Vander were said to have grown up in the mines, I assume it's most likely that they were the children of prisoners, rather than prisoners themselves - although it isn't outside the realm of possibility, since Powder's visibly young age did not stop the Enforcers from going after her at the beginning of the show. Alternatively (if we want to assume the slave labour aspect did not exist/was very far in the past) we could just assume Vander and Silco were children of people who worked in the mines, and were essentially born into it.

Regardless, I don't think they had many other options outside of mining, so we can assume that this was much the same for most people living in the Undercity. Something I'm curious about is, with the interpretation that there was still some semblance of a level system in modern Zaun, when and how Entresol and Promenade came about.

My personal assumption for Promenade is that the level existed as a sort of gateway between south Piltover and the underground. The elevator from S1E1 is on this level, and it looks to be in an abandoned house, judging by the stairs, furniture and paintings on the walls. The decor is quite fancy and the people in the paintings are dressed similarly to the Kirammans in their family portraits, which makes me think this was the repurposed home of a wealthy topsider. One possibility is that Promenade held the residences of Piltovan elites who worked close to Zaun (e.g. owned factories, oversaw mining operations). I think it's unlikely that Promenade had anything to do with Silco and Vander's operations, since it's much closer to the surface than where they reside, but their revolution could have been the force that drove many of the topsiders out.

Entresol is where the Lanes and The Last Drop are located, so I'm inclined to assume this was the part that Silco and Vander built. This is also corroborated by the various references to the Lanes in S1E3, which I elaborated on in Part 2.4, that makes it sound like this was the part that they had the most involvement with. This was where both of them ended up living, and Vander says that Silco "had the Lanes' respect", suggesting that this was where they started out, too.

The way Sevika and Felicia both talk about Silco and Vander's work makes it sound like they built the Lanes in a very literal sense. This leaves us with two main questions; 1) What was there before?, and 2) How much of it was built by them?. Unfortunately for us, I don't think there's actually enough in canon to answer either of those questions with any real certainty. The best I can do is suggest possibilities. We do know that there were other parts to the underground outside of the Lanes, so one possibility is that there was already a community inhabiting Entresol that they took over as their own - perhaps a small rebel group, or colonies of Zaunite labourers who lived on that level. These are all the other options I came up with:

There were semi-intact ruins still lying around Entresol that they built out of.

There was a large, empty space in the place that would later become the Lanes. They built on top of this and filled out the entire region.

They literally built the Entresol level themselves. The mining tunnels had been dug out of nothing, and all that was lying on top of them was rock; they quite literally "carve[d] it out of the bedrock", as Felicia's phrasing would imply.

So in summary, I'm imagining that the Sump was the main region of the Undercity at the time, comprising a network of mines where the Grey originated, sewers for wastage from up above, and potentially factories or warehouses as well. Another question is what exactly was being mined here, and again, we can turn to League lore for possible ideas. The prison mines mentioned on the Zaun wiki page were for "Chemtech compounds". Amanda Overton described Silco and Vander as "miners working for topsiders", which makes me wonder - if they were mining for Chemtech compounds - what exactly the topsiders in question wanted to do with those compounds. This brings me back to my long-winded Chemtech musings from Part 1.3. I can think of three primary explanations for this:

The compounds in question could be used for a variety of inventions, not just Chemtech. Perhaps there were elements involved that had to be chemically separated; one of which was safer and used to power Piltover's inventions, while the other was highly toxic and was originally discarded as waste, but later became the basis for Chemtech.

Chemtech was mined and used in smaller doses/quantities in Piltovian inventions, while the people of the Undercity began to use it in larger quantities, harnessing the toxic properties that released the Grey as a byproduct.

Chemtech compounds were one of many things mined, and were used for inventions that were limited to the underground, like mechanical mining and factory tools (drills, bombs, transport, etc.)

Alternatively, if we ignore the mention of Chemtech, we could assume that the underground was rich in natural minerals and resources that Piltovans needed for their inventions. We could also assume they were mining for the other gases and/or liquids that Piltovans used as an energy source (it's mentioned that these came from a "nearby marsh", but I couldn't find an actual canon source for that, so I think it's fine to take some liberties with it). I suspect that there are many other possible explanations, with the foundational principle being that they were mining for materials which the topsiders would then use to boost their own wealth, one way or another.

~~~

Part 3.3: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Golden Age of S&V)

In S1E5, we see an old hideout of Silco and Vander's, with plans for the Nation of Zaun strewn all over the desk and plastered on the walls. I've compiled a list of everything we see in that hideout and where it's all located:

CEILING/TOP

Pipework

Low wooden beams

Lantern box hanging from the ceiling

LEFT OF THE ENTRANCE

Boxes/crates

Barrels

Mining gloves

Shovel

Something coiled and hanging on the left wall - perhaps a rope? Or a hose?

RIGHT OF THE ENTRANCE

Small wooden table

Vanity next to the coat rack

Another shovel

Time-worn plans covering the right wall (maps, tables, lots of illegible writing)

BACK OF THE ROOM

Left corner, storage unit/bookshelf (books, boxes, small lopsided paper bag, cylindrical flask or thick drink bottle?)

Left of centre, jackets and hats

Centre, flag with green, red and gold detailing, NoZ logo in gold

Right corner, coat rack and a ledge with hangers and a kettle

CENTRE OF THE ROOM

Desk (more books, flask, glass, tobacco pipe, letter)

Another crate

Knocked-over stool

Tall chair (for the vanity?)

TRIVIA

Walls are all boarded up with wooden planks and metal reinforcements

Vander’s number: 135 714 (from the canon scene)

Silco’s number: 132 219 (loosely interpreted from the very grainy image in the artbook)

I think it's safe to say that they started devising their vision of Zaun in the mines, with comprehensive plans for the nation that include maps and diagrams, a flag with a logo, and many long pages of writing. I'm guessing they were living here for a while, judging by the flask, the kettle, the paper bag that looks like the kind used to carry food, and the clothes hung up on the wall. The furniture is an interesting detail; I'm struggling to imagine that they got away with dragging all of that furniture down to the mines, which makes me wonder if it was there before. Perhaps it used to be someone's office down there? Or some kind of bunker/storm shelter? I have no clear answer for this so I guess it's entirely up to the imagination.

Then at some point, they got out of the mines and began a smuggling operation to make money. I assume this is the era Vi was talking about when she said the break-in was "the kind of job Vander would've pulled when he was [their] age". I'm not sure exactly how reliable this statement is, or whether it even really tells us anything; Vander could've snuck away from the mines to steal from topside when he was a teenager, before he had even developed the goal of an independent nation, or Vi could've heard rumours about Vander's past that weren't entirely accurate. Still, it's the best we have to go on, and if we assume this references Vander and Silco's smuggling operation, it would imply that they started relatively young. In my opinion, 16-year-old Vi saying "our age" could imply anywhere from about 15-18 realistically, and that gives us a maximum of about a decade between the start of their smuggling ventures and The Last Drop opening. We also have to factor in Silco being 2-3 years younger, which means I'm more inclined to assume Vander was an older teen, if not already in his 20s (unless we're meant to assume they were just extremely young when they started all this, but I think that's unlikely, given they already look like adults while still working in the mines). For the sake of the timeline, we'll say they started their smuggling operation somewhere between the late 950s and early 960s AN.

We also don't know for sure when the Lanes were actually built; whether they started with The Last Drop and built everything around it, or built the Lanes and opened The Last Drop as a finishing touch of sorts. Felicia's lines in the flashback - "You two are going to figure this Zaun thing out. I don't care if you have to carve it out of the bedrock covered in blisters." - definitely make it sound like The Last Drop was built first, and everything else followed. Amanda Overton also specified that the smuggling operation helped Vander and Silco make money, so it seems like they were selling their stolen goods (to topsiders?) and running a back-alley black market operation until they had enough to actually start building.

There were about 10-11 years between the opening of The Last Drop and the estrangement of Silco from his allies, which they spent building the Lanes. I was initially thinking this sounded insane, but from this Reddit thread, I gathered that it's actually a fairly reasonable timeline - especially if we assume that they had others helping them with the physical construction, which I'm certain they would've. One of the commenters in the thread brought up the city of Brasilia, which was a planned city built over the span of about 3.5 years. It has a total federal district area of 5,802km^2 built by about 60,000 people (not sure exactly how much of that area was actually built up; the Demographia World Urban Areas Report 2023 counts a total urban area of 963km^2, similar to the size of Buffalo NY).

There's another post I found by a Redditor who calculated the area and population of Piltover and Zaun using the height of streetlamps as a reference. These totals came out to 5.30km^2 (~100,000 population) and 4.12km^2 (~400,000 population) for Zaun. This was calculated under the assumption that Zaun and Piltover each covered one region on either side of the bridge, so the sizes might differ under the model with Zaun being mostly underneath. However, in this case, the Entresol level alone would be even smaller than 4.12km^2, so the task sounds overall very manageable. Worth noting that I think it's unlikely that Zaun was a precisely planned city like Brasilia was, and more likely that they built up the city around themselves, in response to the growing population and demands for facilities. Although we do see very thorough-looking diagrams on the walls of Vander and Silco's hideout, so I suppose you could reasonably assume any degree of planning.

In canon, we do see some glimpses into the post-Last Drop era through the sequence of Warwick/Vander's memories in S1E6. Here are all the memories we see, in order:

Vander and Silco in the mines

Silco sitting at a bar with a book open in his hands

The flashback from S2E5 with Felicia, Silco and Vander toasting in the bar

Young Vander and Benzo leaning over a counter; both look to be around the same age as they were in Act 1, maybe slightly younger

Felicia pregnant with Powder, and a man (presumably Connol) holding child Vi

Powder, Vi, Mylo and Claggor all standing in a group with their backs turned

Vi sparring with Vander, starting around the age she was in Act 1 and then morphing into her younger child self

Felicia and Connol come home with their mining hats and gloves, and Vi and Powder get excited to see them

Vi tries on the mining glove Felicia gives her

Felicia and Powder cook together

Felicia cuts Vi's hair

Felicia, Powder and Vi chase each other around a post

Felicia measures Vi's height

These being Vander's memories, it seems like the kids had a much more resonant impact on him at the time than Silco or the fight for independence did. This explains a lot with regards to the difference in ideologies that eventually divided Vander and Silco. We also see that Felicia and Connol were still working in the mines when the kids were young, implying that Silco and Vander did not shut down mining operations (perhaps they cleaned it up so the work was less dangerous?). The logo for the Nation of Zaun that we see on the flag & on Silco's notebook doesn't come up ever again, and seems to be absent from the modern timeline.

I'm guessing the focus during this period was on the physical construction of the Lanes, and accumulating more and more capital to distribute among the people of the underground. It definitely seems like they were intending to go to war for their independence, judging by Vander's assumption in S1E3 that Silco wanted to use Shimmer to start a war - as well as Vander telling Vi that he "was angry" when he was younger and wanted to fight for change (S1E2). The flag/logo in their hideout was presumably something they planned to fly once they had achieved an independent Nation of Zaun.

They never did end up engaging in a full-on war though, based on various context clues and dialogue exchanges implying that a) Vander and Silco's revolution was never successful, and b) war between Piltover and Zaun is only hypothetical, rather than something that has happened once before. Vander also indicates that the Day of Ash was a one-off incident ("we crossed that bridge once before" in S1E2), which is consistent with how peaceful his early memories are. I presume they wanted to focus on establishing Zaun as a thriving community first before escalating the issue with Piltover; they couldn't exactly fight for independence if there was no nation to fight for in the first place. They most likely didn't have the numbers to form an actual army either, especially not with the Lanes alone.

Eventually, Vander and Silco incited the bridge riot as what was meant to be the start of a bigger revolution, "thinking things could change". The riot was a massive failure for Zaun, and most of the fighters ended up dead. Vander decided that he had too much to lose and attempted to drown Silco to end the cycle of violence. I tend to assume this happened before Vander picked up the kids, but if you want to stay as loyal as possible to the creators' comments, I think this is a very plausible theory that explains the weird timeline and visual continuity errors.

~~~

Part 3.4: The Creation of Modern Zaun (Aftermath of S&V)

Bonus section to discuss my thoughts on what exactly happened to Silco after the Day of Ash; most of this is conjecture rather than fact.

It's pretty obvious what Vander got up to after the drowning attempt. He made a deal with Grayson to keep Zaunites off of Piltover's streets in return for peace. Much of the infrastructure in The Lanes was built during Vander and Silco's era, but I imagine construction continued into this era as well. However, any progress towards independence stagnated under Vander's leadership.

As for Silco, it seems most likely that he met up with Singed pretty soon after the betrayal. There seems to be a distinct lack of trust between them - Singed hasn't told Silco what his true motivations are, per him vaguely telling Silco "I, too, once had a daughter" (S1E8), and Silco tells Jinx that "you're the only one I can trust with this" when she suggests that he give the Hex crystal to Singed instead (S1E5). Thus, I'm inclined to believe it's a purely practical partnership, unlike Silco's relationship with Vander which was much more personal.

Silco's intention with Shimmer, as he tells Vander, was to mass-produce it at such a scale that it would scare Piltover out of entering the Lanes (many of the wiki pages say he wanted to start a war with Shimmer-enhanced soldiers, but he outright tells Vander that this is not the case). It could be that he wanted a bargaining chip too, given that "discontinue the production of Shimmer" was one of Jayce's conditions for independence in S1E9. So, Silco and Singed joined forces at some point to mass-produce Shimmer, Silco used a variant in the meantime to keep his eye infection at bay, and that brings us to the canon timeline.

I want to look a little bit into Singed and his past, as I'm very curious to know where Silco's vision fits in with Singed's motivations. We don't know exactly how much of Dr. Reveck/Orianna's story translates into Arcane, but we do know the following:

Singed was Dr. Reveck, a "revered academy alchemist" in Piltover. His work was "unparalleled", but he was dismissed from the academy with "no mention of his crime" (from Caitlyn; S2E5).

Everything he's done since his dismissal was to cure his daughter. This included the creation of Shimmer, which he did using Rio (the giant purple creature in the cave) as a vessel through which to sustain the regenerative mutation he wanted to harness. When questioned by Ambessa, he says that he's trying to cure "death".

He runs his operations out of the cave in Zaun where Rio is kept. Viktor worked with him briefly as a child, but became horrified by the sight of Rio connected to a series of wires and clearly in pain, so he left. Later, he is seen working out of several locations that all look slightly different (the place where Warwick is created, and Silco's first office under the river), so either the cave is massive with many rooms, or he has several different HQs for his experiments.

Singed uses Chemtech and Shimmer for all his experiments, often a combination of the two. It seems like Chemtech has the potential to sustain life, and Shimmer has the potential to enhance it.

In comparison, these are the main details of Orianna's origin story in League of Legends:

Corin Reveck was famous for making artificial limbs with intricate brass designs.

His daughter, Orianna, was his apprentice. She was adventurous and inquisitive, and wanted to explore the world outside of Piltover, but Dr. Reveck told her it was too dangerous.

An explosion in Zaun ruptured a chemical line and released clouds of poisonous gas. Orianna wanted to help the victims, but Dr. Reveck wouldn’t let her.

Orianna snuck away at night and helped fix the damage, repairing respirators and installing esophilters (described on the wiki as “a Chemtech augmentation that allows people to breathe noxious fumes safely”). She offered her own mask to a child who was struggling to breathe.

After returning to Piltover, Orianna became terminally ill, lungs ravaged by the toxic fumes. Dr. Reveck built her a new set of lungs, and as the poison spread throughout her body, he continued to build new implants and prosthetics for her until most of her body was mechanical.

The process cost Dr. Reveck his entire fortune, which forced them to relocate to Zaun.

Eventually Dr. Reveck fell ill, and she gave up her last remaining human organ for him - her heart.

There are obvious changes that would have to be made to this story to fit with Arcane lore. For example, Singed was already living in Zaun by the time he met up with Viktor, well before Orianna was revived. It also doesn't seem like he built her "piece by piece" as stated in the original story, instead keeping her alive and unconscious until he was certain he could save her. However, I think a lot of these details can be integrated with Arcane lore, and I have some ideas about exactly where it fits in.

As with all things, I want to figure out a timeline first before anything else. This is what we know so far:

Late 950s-960s AN: Silco and Vander start their smuggling operation with the goal of establishing the Lanes

961 AN: Viktor is born

967 AN: The Last Drop is opened

978 AN: Silco is betrayed by Vander

983 AN: Silco and Singed are working together by this point

I found no information on how old Viktor was when he met Singed, so I'm going to estimate around 12-13 judging by his appearance and voice. This would mean they met around 973-974 AN, which matches up with the timeline, given that Zaun looks quite built-up where we see other children playing (although I'm pretty sure this takes place on the Promenade level? Since it seems to be in direct sunlight). It seems like Singed is a fair way into his venture when Viktor runs into him; he's managed to cultivate the mutation he is looking for, and he has a laboratory of sorts that he operates inside the cave, with a vast array of potions, many different vats and test tubes with mutilated animals inside, and a network of pipes and wires that power his equipment. From this, I presume he's been at it for at least a few years.

With this timeline, Orianna would have fallen ill somewhere in the late 960s, right at the height of Vander and Silco's golden age when they were still building the Lanes. An explosion that ruptured a chemical line is an extremely plausible event to happen during this era, for any number of reasons; a riot in the underground, Enforcers trying to halt the construction of Zaun, explosions used to clear rocks so they had a clear path to build, etc etc. It could've been any number of things. Orianna went down there, against her father's orders, and her lungs were ravaged by the gas. Singed started to focus his research on keeping Orianna's condition stable and devising a cure by testing on animals. His unethical activities were discovered, and he was kicked out of the academy in the early 970s for his experiments. He permanently relocated to Zaun.

Sometime after Silco was betrayed, he and Singed met. I am quite confident that Silco was the one to approach Singed, and my primary justification for this comes from Singed's conversation with Viktor in S1E7. Viktor tries to pretend that he wants to use Shimmer on plants, and Singed expresses that he knows what Viktor is really there for, by saying "I know the look of a doomed man". I am convinced that he is talking about Silco here. From what we see of Singed's past before meeting Silco, he had only experimented on animals, and the only human involved before Viktor was his daughter. None of that would justify him "know[ing] the look of a doomed man". I don't think he's talking about himself either, since his injuries don't appear to be fatal and we never see him using himself as a test subject.

So I think Silco somehow found out about his operations and came to him seeking help after the betrayal. Silco had no power without Vander - all their friends/allies that we know of were either dead (Felicia and Connol) or took Vander's side (Benzo and Sevika) - and after being exposed to the toxins in the Pilt, he definitely would have been at risk for a much worse infection if left untreated. He was already taking his injections when we first see him in canon, and it actually looks like Singed might have even performed surgery of some kind on Silco, given that he has both eyelids in the actual drowning scene but one of them is missing later on.

This also helps explain what Singed was getting out of the deal, since Silco couldn't offer him anything tangible at the time; he essentially acted as Singed's first human test subject for a cure. We don't know if Silco's early injections involved Shimmer though, or if he was using some other temporary cure (Chemtech?) that Singed came up with for him before Shimmer had been perfected. Singed mentions to Viktor that he has several different variants of Shimmer, and he was already working on it for at least a little while before Silco came to him, so I'm assuming it was probably one of these variants. If that's the case, I'd guess that Silco is using a stronger dosage after the timeskip, since he responds to it differently (in S1E1 he injects it very calmly with no visible reaction at all, while later on in the series, his body seizes up and he looks to be in pain).

I'm interested in what comes after that, too. I could absolutely understand Singed agreeing to help Silco out after the betrayal, since Silco is in a similar position to Viktor at that point, and a very valuable tool in Singed's research. What I'm curious about is why Singed then agrees to mass-produce Shimmer and "flood the lanes" with it, as it's often described. These are the two explanations I came up with:

Singed wanted to explore the effects of Shimmer on the "average person", so to speak. Flooding the Lanes with Shimmer means putting it in the hands of anyone and everyone, which means ample test subjects for Singed to observe and learn from. The main issue I can think of with this theory is that Singed does all of his research from inside his lab, and one of the key things he notes about himself is that he's a loner, so it doesn't seem like he was going out there and doing field research. There could have been ways for him to learn from afar, though.

Silco offered to make Singed rich. Silco knew Shimmer could turn the tides back in his favour, and he could have tempted Singed to join him with the promise of everything they could eventually have. Early in Season 1, they share an office space underwater, and they have many giant factories with regular shipments in and out of Piltover after the timeskip. We can only assume that both of them became wealthy from this, with Singed making enough money to continue his research, and Silco making enough to build the version of the underground that he always envisioned.

And finally, I want to jump back to the aforementioned discussions about Chemtech, because something is still bugging me about it. If Chemtech existed before Hextech, and it's supposed to be this brilliant but toxic formula at the heart of Zaun's inventions, why didn't they ever weaponise it against Piltover? We know that Jinx uses Chemtech for her bombs, and Renni is seen using a chainsaw powered by Chemtech - and we also know that Silco and Vander both wanted to fight Piltover. So if Chemtech is a power source exclusive to Zaun, why didn't they mass-produce Chemtech weapons or release toxic gases into the streets of Piltover as part of their fight for independence? And after the timeskip, when Silco is working on his own, why did he focus on the production of Shimmer when Chemtech already existed?

By the time we catch up with everyone in canon in S1E1, Chemtech is very widespread. It looks like the Undercity is essentially built on it, with green lights everywhere and massive structures powered entirely by chemicals. I think it's reasonable to assume that Vander and Silco were the ones who facilitated the widespread use of Chemtech. This would fill in a lot of the gaps with regards to the precise timeline of Chemtech usage; it could have been something they once used sparingly, for things like mining equipment and light sources, but when Silco and Vander built the Undercity, it became a staple of Zaunite infrastructure. Since there was a long period over which they were smuggling goods out of Piltover and preparing to start building their nation, they could have also used that time to start developing Chemtech. I'm guessing they would've recruited someone to do this for them, since neither Vander nor Silco seem to have a knack for invention.

This leaves me with three theories with regards to the potential for Chemtech to become a weapon:

Theory 1 - They did try to use it against Piltover, but their attempts were always unsuccessful (e.g. the Day of Ash riot).

This one is pretty self-explanatory. They tried to use Chemtech weapons against Piltover, but the Enforcers were just too powerful. There are two main issues with this theory; the first being that we don't know how exactly the Enforcers would have overpowered them without Hextech, and the second being that, when we see Silco and Vander on the bridge during that riot, there's no sign of Chemtech's trademark green. Silco has a very standard-looking Molotov cocktail that produces orange flames, and Vander uses his mining gloves to beat up the Enforcers using brute force. I suppose the Molotov could have been filled with chemicals, so it's still an option.

Theory 2 - Chemtech isn't powerful enough on its own.

I believe this is the most plausible theory of the three. Chemtech is an energy source, good for powering things like light sources and machinery, but in itself, we don't actually see any evidence to suggest that it's useful on a larger scale. Powder's bombs don't work when she's younger, despite being powered by Chemtech - and even then, Chemtech is never the main feature anyway, with her bombs either being smoke-powered or filled with nails. In S1E4, Councilor Hoskel describes Zaun's "ingenuity over the years", with specific mentions of "Shimmer" and "body replacements"; I would assume, if Zaun really was capable of making deadly weapons with Chemtech, he would have mentioned that as well. Chemtech does appear to be the sole power source behind Renni's chainsaw, but mass-producing chainsaws as a war weapon is not the most practical nor smart strategy. Chemtech just isn't effective enough to make weapons that can be used to fight Piltover with, or on a large enough scale to put them in the hands of average Zaunites.

A major point in favour of this theory is the fact that no one in the Undercity seems to have guns except Jinx, which I find really interesting. During the bridge riot, all of the Enforcers are armed with guns, while Vander fights with his fists, and Silco fights with the aforementioned Molotov cocktail. Later, we see that Sevika and Vi also fight with their fists, and the Firelights use hoverboards and spears. Vander has a dagger which Silco later uses as his own melee weapon of choice. So why does no one in Zaun have guns? Surely Jinx can't be the only person who's ever thought to make her own? The answer has to be that they don't have access to them; either the money to buy them or the materials to make them. The Enforcers are always armed with them, and families like the Kirammans are known to hunt recreationally, which seems to demonstrate that guns are a mark of wealth and status. Jinx is only able to make hers once she's living with Silco, who could easily source the supplies for her.

Theory 3 - They did manage to successfully weaponise Chemtech against Piltover, but Piltover was able to harness the chemicals for themselves before Zaun could take advantage of it.

We know in canon that Silco's goal was to use Shimmer as something powerful enough to scare Piltover off their streets. I think it could be interesting if this was initially the plan for Chemtech, but the council caught wind of this dangerous invention, and commissioned the academy to work on a solution - just like Silco does with Jinx when Hextech becomes an issue. Piltover created Chemtech weapons of their own, so that Zaun would no longer have a technological advantage.

This is where Singed comes in. I think it could be interesting if Singed was the alchemist recruited to work on Chemtech; perhaps even Heimerdinger too, given that Singed mentions them having worked together. Singed managed to extract the chemicals used for Chemtech and create defensive measures against it for Piltover, thus explaining why he had such a good handle on it when he transferred his operations to Zaun. Either he managed to safely extract it, and it was subsequently used for smaller inventions in Piltover (thus explaining the green lamp and the pneuma tube gas in Grayson's office), or he made weapons that were just as toxic and dangerous as those in Zaun, which had to be locked away in case of absolute emergency (this would make sense if we assume Heimerdinger had a part in it; there's no way he would let them use it freely). This theory also explains why Singed would be especially cautious about letting Orianna visit the underground, if he was working with Chemtech himself at the time and knew how dangerous it could be.

Here's my proposal for a rough timeline, using this theory:

Late 950s-960s AN: Silco and Vander start their smuggling operation with the goal of establishing the Lanes.

Early 960s AN: Chemical compounds are smuggled out of the mines, and a group of rebels start using it to develop new inventions, per Silco and Vander's plan.

967 AN: The Last Drop is opened; Vander and Silco start actually building the Lanes. Piltover catches wind of the construction and tries to send Enforcers down there to stop them, but they use newly-forged Chemtech weapons to keep them out. Enforcers are ordered by the council to stay out of the underground due to the danger. Singed (and possibly Heimerdinger) starts working with the compounds mined for Chemtech to develop stronger defensive measures.

Late 960s AN: During construction of the Lanes, something goes wrong that results in the release of toxic gases from Chemtech (a "ruptured chemical line", according to Orianna's League lore story). Singed is the first in Piltover to learn about it, and Orianna overhears. He warns her not to go down there; she does not listen. She goes to help the victims, and falls gravely ill. Singed continues his Chemtech research as authorised, but starts a side project using the chemicals to develop a cure, with a giant vat of liquid to keep her alive in the meantime.

Early 970s AN: Singed's unethical experiments are discovered, and he is booted out of the academy and stripped of his status. He permanently relocates to Zaun.

978 AN: The Day of Ash; Vander and Silco lead an army across the bridge, Enforcers fight back, disaster strikes. It's the first fight for which Piltover brings out the locked-away Chemtech weapons, which is what makes it so explosive (we see Enforcers' guns explode on impact in S1E1, which they don't seem to do any other time).

978 AN (cont'd): Silco finds out about Singed's research somehow and they meet up. Silco knows that Chemtech is no longer an advantage for the Undercity, so he seeks a new solution. Meanwhile, Vander makes his deal with Grayson, and Chemtech weapons on both sides are destroyed.

983 AN: Singed tests his newest Shimmer variant on a rat. He determines that it's now adequate for a human to drink.

This theory does have a few minor holes - Hoskel's line in S1E4 again being one of them, as well as the fact that Silco doesn't consider the possibility of weaponising Hextech until after Jinx steals the crystal - but I find it to be the most intriguing, and could be a compelling way of tying all these stories together.

~~~

Part 4: Wrap-Up

PHEW. We've finally reached the Sump. If you read this entire post, congrats on making it all the way down here! This was over 12k words total so certainly a behemoth to get through; thank you so much for sticking with me <3

I wanted to include one final summary of the timeline, colour-coded to indicate where all this information comes from. I’ve used blue to indicate origins in League of Legends lore, green to indicate Arcane lore (according to the wiki), and red to indicate that I extrapolated the dates myself. In case anyone has trouble distinguishing red and green, I’ve also included an asterisk (*) next to all the reds.

6000-5000 BN: Westward Migration. Humans began to migrate towards the Shuriman Continent. One of the new cities founded was a sea port called Oshra Va’Zaun.

2000-3 BN: Various Wars. Several wars happened during this time; Janna protected Oshra Va’Zaun from every conflict.

676 AN: Heimerdinger is born. He is 307 (Act 1) / 314 (Act 2).

772 AN: The Collapse. The people of Oshra Va’Zaun attempted to crack open an area of the land using Chemtech bombs. The bombs triggered a series of earthquakes that destroyed the isthmus.

790 AN: Piltover is Established. The ruins of Oshra Va’Zaun underwent extensive reconstruction, and the new city of Piltover was built over the Pilt River.

940 AN: Vander is born. He is 43 / 50.

*943 AN: Silco is born. He is 40 / 47.

*Late 950s-Early 960s AN: Smuggling begins. Vander and Silco start their smuggling operation.

959 AN: Jayce is born. He is 24 / 31.

961 AN: Viktor is born. He is 22 / 29.

966 AN: Caitlyn is born. She is 17 / 24.

966-67 AN: Felicia-Vander-Silco scene. A milestone of Zaun's development is celebrated in The Last Drop.

967 AN: Vi is born. She is 16 / 23.

972 AN: Jinx is born. She is 11 / 18.

*978 AN: Silco is betrayed. Beginning of Vander's solo reign and an armistice between Piltover and Zaun.

983 AN: Events of Season 1 Act 1. The Kiramman warehouse is raided, Hextech is invented, and Powder accidentally kills most of her family.

990 AN: Events of Season 1 Act 2. The main Arcane timeline starts here.

I cannot emphasise enough that I put this all together on my own with zero knowledge of League lore going into it, so there are bound to be gaps and inaccuracies somewhere along the way. This is by no means intended as the be-all and end-all of Arcane lore guides, but hopefully there are things in here that someone else will find helpful!

Good luck with your fanworks ventures :-)

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primus-why · 1 year ago

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This rant ain't the same fandom so I don't feel bad for going off about this here... but I just spent like 4 days reading a 325k fic that was heralded as an ol' fandom classic back in like 2006... only for the last 40k or so to devolve into absolute unsatisfying insanity. I'm talking about random plot twists for no reason right towards the end with no time to flesh them out... characters hitting their peak character growth halfway through the story and then not growing any further beyond that for the remainder... a VERY unnecessary rug pull ending-- literally think Remember Me (2010)'s slow zoom-out of the world trade center on the morning of 9/11. I am not even joking (it involves a plane crash)

Precious days of life I shan't get back...

#i wouldn't dare leave a comment like this on the actual author's story #and to reiterate this was not a transformers fic...#but goddamn i needed to vent my frustration #literally the fiest half i was SOOO invested it was so good #and then it just became a sort of ''well this might as well happen'' sort of deal.#rant #runt

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johntorrington · 1 year ago

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thinking about him (my old gay cannibal fallout oc)

#literally the last time i wrote fic was a year ago and it was 2000 words of a second person pov character study #about my lone wanderer. who i eventually started a new vegas run with as well #i actually just reread it it’s not half bad #he started as sort of a bit where like i was testing out fo3s karma system. like what will happen if i do all the Good Guy options but also #just eat corpses as well. and the answer is you can still get like high level good karma while also killing raiders to eat them #but anyways he became an actual character after that. harvey my best friend harvey #long tangent. idk. i wanna play fallout again. also i might link the fic who knows #(circus music starts)

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clockwayswrites · 3 months ago

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Birb in the arms. Part 24

Masterpost, CW: mention of blood, dissociation, panic attack

“I liked this sweater,” Danny bemoaned softly as he watched Alfred’s startlingly sharp scissors slice through the knit.

Alfred hummed sympathetically, but didn’t stop in his butchery of Danny’s clothing. “A lost cause from the blood if not the wings.”

“Right.” Danny tightened his hands around the mug of tea he had been presented with shortly after he’d been sat down at the kitchen island. He should drink it, he knew, but the adrenalin crash was hitting him hard right then and the warmth of the mug was comforting.

Danny held back a flinch as Alfred started on the dress shirt.

If the wings… stayed, Danny would have to figure out clothing to accommodate them. That would be a pain. He didn’t want a whole new wardrobe.

“Arms out now,” Alfred ordered.

Danny listened, mostly because it was easiest to, and the remains of his dissected clothing was pulled off and taken away. Danny hunched forward and returned his hands to the mug. Alfred started to methodically, but gently, to clean a away the blood.

“Fortunately, the skin seems remarkably well healed around the wings. Do you normally heal swiftly from their emergence?”

Normally.

As if he normally had wings.

As if this was just a thing that happened to him.

But it was, wasn’t it? Or it was now. He just had wings. That was a thing.

This is what he was now.

More dead than alive.

Always dead.

There was a warm hand on his cheek.

He was much more warm now. The blanket wrapped around him might explain that. Or the hot water bottle that he was practically curled around. Or the person he was leaning against.

Whoever he was leaning on was talking.

The steady, calm flow of words rumbled under Danny’s other cheek.

He could fall asleep like this. He shouldn’t though, part of him thought. He should… shouldn’t he be doing something? He tried to pay attention to who was talking. There were more people in the room, Danny realized, but who he was resting against was doing most of the talking in a steady, rhythmic sort of way.

Danny knew he should be worried about where he was and what just happened, but he wasn’t.

He just snuggled closer to the warmth.

The voice paused, chuckled, and then asked something as the thumb swept soothingly across Danny’s cheekbone.

Danny made a little noise of question.

“Maybe not so with us, then,” the voice said.

Oh, it was Bruce.

The wings.

The attack.

The boys!

Danny jolted up. He didn’t get far with the arm wrapped around him, tucked carefully under his wings that struggled against the blanket.

“They’re safe. Damian and Tim are right here with us. You kept them safe.”

“Please do not injure yourself,” Damian said, voice a little soft, almost hesitant.

It was enough to still Danny.

“We’re okay. You just, um, had a bit of an episode in the kitchen,” Tim explained.

“You dissociated,” Bruce clarified. He had a book in the hand that was around Danny and he closed it quietly to set aside. He must have been reading to them. Bruce cleared his throat almost hesitantly. “We thought it best not to leave you on a cold kitchen floor.”

They were in a living room of some sort, Danny realized as he became more aware of everything around him. He was struggling to get his normally quick brain kicked into gear. Once again he was aware he should be worried about things, notably the fact he was apparently basically in Bruce Wayne’s lap, but he just couldn’t bring himself to be concerned right then.

“Much warmer,” Danny agreed, words a soft mumble. “Everyone okay?”

“Everyone but yourself,” Damian said with a little scowl that made Danny smile. That only made Damian scowl harder. “Clearly you are not equipped to take care of yourself. You will stay here for a few days.”

“Damian,” Bruce said as a mild reprimand that didn’t mean much with the way his arm tightened ever so slightly around Danny.

Danny just chuckled and let himself close his eyes again. “I’m okay, chickadee. Just tired.”

“You were tired before the attack,” Tim pointed out over Damian’s indignant noise.

“Mhum.”

“Is… I mean,” Tim said in a start and stop. “I just think that’s why Damian is concerned.”

Danny chuckled softly. Obviously only Damian was concerned.

“This is not humorous, Fenton!” Damian snapped.

“Damian,” Bruce admonished back.

“It’s okay, know he’s just worried,” Danny said around a jaw cracking yawn. With quite a struggle and Bruce’s bracing hands, Danny got himself sitting up and facing the boys.

They occupied opposite ends of a sofa. Damian tucked into the corner with a vicious scowl on his face. Tim, on the other side, kept glance between Damian, Bruce, and Danny all while trying to look like he wasn’t looking.

“I was tired even before the attack,” Danny said. He rubbed at his forehead, trying to pull his scattered thoughts together. Bruce’s hand was still bracing him up between the wings. “There’s… a few weeks a go, there was an incident I ended up in the middle of. I was exposed to some of Ivy’s pollen and apparently that and who knows what else triggered a… change. In me. And my… meta status? Powers. State—in the state of what I am.”

Tim looked at Danny a little more directly as he asked. “Did you know before it? That you were a meta?”

“Lab accident when I was fourteen,” Danny said with a wry smile. “I’ve known for a lot of years and while I won’t pretend that it was easy at the start, everything had settled into a balance. So, for things to change so drastically out of no where… I’ll be honest, I maybe have been struggling to cope with it some. It’s not that I find it funny or don’t recognize that it’s a concern, Damian, I just sometimes have to laugh about it.”

Damian assessed him with narrowed eyes. “The wings are new.”

“The wings are new,” Danny confirmed. “I’ve already spoken to my doctor about it, one that’s been looking after me since I was fourteen, and we have thoughts but not many answers. This…”

Danny sighed and looked down at his hands. He flexed his fingers. The small feathers that had covered his hands were gone. The talons back to nails (though maybe still a little sharper than they should be). The wings were still heavy on his back.

“There’s a lot of unknown in this,” Danny said, “and that can be scary. I didn’t think that I’d have any more changes to deal with, not at this age. When it was first triggered… the transformation was fully into a bird but giant. I’m really, really hoping that was an outlier. We think it was but…”

“None of this will change your place at work,” Bruce assured Danny. “W.E. is firm in its support of meta.”

“And we aren’t scared of you,” Tim added quickly. “We have meta friends. I mean, I can’t say I won’t have questions like how functional are the wings or stuff, but, um, that’s just how I am.”

Danny chuckled lightly. “I get that. And I once things are a little more… stable we can answer some of those. Right now I’m just trying to manage.”

“Then you will stay here,” Damian insisted.

“Damian…”

“It is easier to manage troubles if you are not alone,” Damian continued, “or so my family is always trying to convince me.”

“It would be easier if you didn’t have to worry about cooking or things, wouldn’t it?” Tim added with a set of puppy dog eyes that Danny was sure got Tim everything he wanted when he was little.

Danny smiled softly at the boys. “I don’t want be a burden or bother to you all. This isn’t your issue.”

“Tch,” Damian sniffed. “We were not your issue today, but you still protected us and in doing so caused this episode. Us providing you a space to heal is the least we could do.”

“Damian is right,” Bruce said, finally adding his thoughts to the argument. “We owe you so much more than that, and having you around would not be a burden or a bother. Take at least tomorrow off and plan to stay through Sunday. You can see how you feel then. And besides, the rest of the children come over through the weekend. They would pout if they missed you.”

“Grayson’s pout is rather unbecoming,” Damian agreed with such a somber air that Danny knew he was going to say yes eventually.

“Alright… thank you, I’ll say for a few days. I will need some things from my place though.

“Oh, make a list,” Tim said, pulling out his phone to type away on. “Jason can grab them on his way in. He’s really good at picking locks.”

“Tim,” Bruce sighed wearily, but with a deep fondness under the sound.

Danny just found himself laughing again. What a family this was.

#a whole flock of protective Waynes #dp x dc #spirit halloween ship #Danny/Bruce #birdritch

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soaps-mohawk · 1 year ago

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.

MASTERLIST | Next ->

“I don’t like this.”

“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.”

He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?”

“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.”

That doesn’t make him feel any better.

He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago.

He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink.

He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her.

“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting.

As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care.

He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long.

His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic.

Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not.

He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack.

Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week.

You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head.

You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath.

“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-”

“Classified?” You finish for her.

Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...”

The less there is to make you a target.

You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time.

What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.”

You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal.

That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military.

That, and the excuse for violence.

Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented.

In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you.

“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together.

“Tired.” You run a hand across your face.

“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.”

You look nervous.

He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly.

This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega.

His omega.

As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy.

“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand.

He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly.

He doesn’t even want to think about that.

Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy.

“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand.

You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed.

“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.”

You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side.

He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents.

“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say.

Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit.

Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about.

“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?”

Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.”

Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went.

“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.”

“What sort of hesitations?” He asks.

“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.”

Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right.

Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.”

“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega.

“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”

“That could be dangerous.” Price says.

“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.”

Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.

“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”

He hasn’t failed her yet.

Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked.

The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.

You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags.

Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment.

You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent.

You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk.

One more to go.

You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk.

This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity.

He’s going to be a problem.

You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible.

Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane.

“Coming, Si?”

Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared.

You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute.

Nothing that could dampen your natural scent.

You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack?

“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door.

Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly.

Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says.

You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no.

You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back.

“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.”

It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression.

Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?”

Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.”

Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it.

You can hold power over them.

The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to.

You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.

Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile.

Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell.

You’re beginning to see the dynamics already.

“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in.

All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha.

Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”

Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs.

“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?”

You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.”

“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer.

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

“You lived on base?” He asks.

You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.”

“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it.

It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say.

The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well.

“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.”

“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent.

You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.”

“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks.

You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.”

“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks.

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.”

“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks.

Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance.

“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.

“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.”

You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.”

Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails.

Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze.

He’s going to be a problem.

“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.”

You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either.

“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.”

You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting.

“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach.

His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell?

What if they don’t like the way you smell?

“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you.

You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier.

“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.”

All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible.

“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully.

Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen.

He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack.

You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs.

“Ready?”

You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin.

He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland.

His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others.

“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you.

You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours.

He’s testing you.

You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl.

He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting.

Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached.

You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place.

“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?”

You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head.

“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.”

His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland.

You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you.

“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze.

“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this.

“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”

He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him.

You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat.

You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper.

“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek.

You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze.

You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them.

They could if they wanted to.

It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you.

“You hungry, pup?”

Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work.

Pup. Price called you Pup.

You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you.

The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment.

“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again.

You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.”

“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.”

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out.

“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear.

His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes.

Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear.

The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing.

He’s proving his ability as a provider.

In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can.

You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you.

He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks.

A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost.

Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult.

NEXT ->

I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #a/b/o

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marvelwitchergilmore · 6 months ago

Text

Surprise Marriage

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.

Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan.

Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal.

But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off.

Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry.

“What is it? What’s going on?”

“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”

Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy.

“What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Y/n today?”

Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”

Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”

Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused.

“Charles, what’s going on?”

The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan.

“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”

The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”

Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”

“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”

“Both? What?”

“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion.

“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”

“Well, that would be the other question except-”

Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t.

Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Then you remembered.

It had been laundry day.

And you wore one of his shirts to bed.

Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, Y/n-”

“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it.

What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?

But no.

It was anything but.

Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts.

“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”

“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”

“What?”

“It’s ours. We’re married.”

You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out.

“What?”

Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”

“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan.

“I don’t know.”

“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”

You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory.

“I need to sit down.”

Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month.

“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”

Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”

And so you did.

There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated.

You were married to Logan.

Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago.

You had become Logan’s wife.

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”

“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you.

“Do either of you know when this happened?”

You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-

“The library.”

“What?”

Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”

“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”

“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”

Then the bell rang.

“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”

You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs.

“I’ll give you both some time.”

Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke.

You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you.

Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”

“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual.

“I know.”

“We’re married.”

Logan nodded. “I know.”

“What are we going to do?”

“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”

“So we…we get a divorce?”

“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”

“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”

You could only nod.

Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”

You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head.

“How can you be so calm about this?”

Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”

That made you laugh a little.

“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”

Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had.

And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in.

“Hey.”

You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine.

“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”

You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”

“Have you seen Logan today?”

You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”

Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing.

They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did.

You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other.

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”

Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”

“What?”

Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”

You looked down.

“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”

“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”

You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer.

“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”

“If there was, something would have happened by now.”

Oh, how Storm wished that was true.

But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back.

There was more than just friendship. A lot more.

“Just think about it.”

And with that she left. And you were left wondering.

What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened.

Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma.

It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom.

Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids.

Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk.

You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing.

But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door.

“Scott?”

“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”

Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”

Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”

Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink.

“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head.

“Not since this morning.”

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What do you want, pal?”

Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries.

“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”

“Excuse me?”

Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”

“Perfect excuse?”

“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”

“And why should it?”

“Because you’re in love with her.”

For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan.

“Look, bub, I know-”

“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”

“No, I’m-”

“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”

Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”

Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture.

“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”

“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”

“What’s your point?”

“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”

The conversation lulled for a moment.

“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”

Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room.

“Want some help?”

You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”

Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes.

“How are you…how are you feeling?”

You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”

“Yeah, fine.”

IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually.

That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed.

Conversations with you were never, ever boring.

Even when they were probably meant to be.

And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded.

Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends.

But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too.

“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you.

You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”

“After you, wife.”

This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more.

A divorce lawyer had picked up your case.

It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month.

Like nothing had ever happened.

Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen.

Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you.

You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean.

And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing.

Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings.

And then Logan found you in the library one night.

“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”

Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.

“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”

Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”

Logan looked around. “You got a list?”

You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”

“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”

Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers.

“There’s twenty six books on this list.”

“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”

And so he did.

By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left.

“Is this the right edition?”

“Let me see.”

Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs.

“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”

As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you.

“You alright?”

You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”

You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist.

“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too.

The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears.

A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand.

And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat.

The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder.

But you had never seen Logan so…clearly.

You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered.

But something in that moment was changing too.

Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him.

You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear.

And he was doing the same.

One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you.

He was committing you to memory, too.

His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip.

You fell closer to him.

Or maybe he pulled you closer.

Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch.

What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his.

It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else.

Then it snapped.

Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you.

Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady.

And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you.

Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck.

However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off.

“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”

“Is everything okay?”

You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why.

“You’re right…you’re right.”

Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet.

“We should go…before someone comes in.”

“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Then don’t.”

You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own.

But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it.

You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to.

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room.

It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night.

Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake.

It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget.

When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning.

Then he didn’t see you for three days.

Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you.

The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward.

And then another moment hit.

You didn’t close the door.

He didn’t know what to say.

All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library.

And you were wishing the same thing right back.

“I should-”

“You should-”

A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him.

Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all.

And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you.

“She’s not there?”

Logan turned immediately. “What?”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”

“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked.

“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him.

And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be.

You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front.

The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo.

But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you.

“Where could she have gone?”

Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened.

Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed.

“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“She could be half way across the world by now!”

Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”

A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment.

“Do you know where she is?”

“I have an idea.”

With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.

“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him.

“You don’t even know where I’m going.”

“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”

And Storm was right.

And she was right to tag along.

Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day.

And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier.

He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.

The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”

“Where is Connie?”

The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”

“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk.

Then she saw.

You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street.

And Logan followed.

However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin.

So, he took a turn.

He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on.

“You fixed her up well.”

You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can.

“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”

“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”

You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you.

“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side.

“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries.

“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”

“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”

“Time from what?”

“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.

“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”

“What? Single and married?”

Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him.

“Married and together.”

Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline.

“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”

“Logan…”

“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”

You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”

“Then we start here, just you and me.”

“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”

Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”

You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”

“Promise me.”

Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”

Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you.

Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Not when you finally had each other for life.

#logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x fe!reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x fe!reader #x men x reader #hugh jackman wolverine #x men wolverine #fluff #yearning #best friends to lovers #angst #library kiss #logan howlett x mutant!reader #chaotic family kinda #falling in love #wearing his t-shirt

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wonderjanga · 3 months ago

Text

We Thought You Died?!

Billy became a hero in 1959, and he was a hit. He was extremely popular. Captain Marvel was a beloved hero. As for the Squadron of Justice? They were beloved too. They, plus Captain Marvel were the superheroes of that time. They were the flipping blueprint for being a hero, especially Captain Marvel. Then the bubble formed in 62, and they just disappeared off the face of the earth and everyone thought he died.

Then, out of nowhere, they just reappeared.

News channel: *showing a clip of Marvel*

Grandson: *tugs on Grandma’s sleeve* “Grandma, that looks like the hero guy the teacher are making us learn about.”

Grandma: “Amazing. He looks just like the real thing.”

Yeah… People didn’t really believe it at first. Though, to be fair, all the Fawcett heroes have been gone for over sixty years.

Old Man: “It’s disrespectful is it what is. Just because you have the same powers doesn’t mean you can dress up as a dead hero.”

Old Woman: “ I just feel bad for the families. To see someone dress up as your dead husband or wife and then go around pretending to be them? Disgraceful.”

It was then the Justice League got involved. They really couldn’t have these people running around like this. Not only that, but some of the imposters are lethal. Not to mention that there are people in the Justice League who used to know the Fawcett heroes. They were friends with them for Christ’s sake. So that’s why unanimously, they went and confronted these guys.

Supes: *hovering over Fawcett*

Marvel: *helps a cat out of a tree and sees him so he flies up*

Supes: *disapproving look* “I hope you know that if you’re trying to be a her—”

Marvel: “Oh my gods, your suit is awesome!”

Supes: “Thank you…?

Marvel: “Are you a new hero? What’s your name? Are you from Fawcett or are you gonna join us here?”

Supes: *computing, still stuck on the first question*

Meanwhile, Flash and Minuteman were arguing which then somehow spiraled into them getting tacos. Batman and Robin, and Mister Scarlet and Pinky are just fighting. And Bulletgirl and Wonder Woman had a civil conversation that actually got them a lot of information.

After sorting out the entire misunderstanding that they were all imposters, things thankfully got lighter.

Marvel: “Oh my gods, Jay, you’re an old man! What happened to your long luscious locks of beautiful brown hair?”

Barry: *holding back a laugh* “Long luscious locks?”

Jay: “Okay, it was not long, luscious, or beautiful. He just insists on calling it that to embarrass me.”

Marvel: “But it’s true! Or it was true.”

Jay: “No it wasn’t. I had perfectly average hair, thank you very much.”

Yeah, Billy met up with some of his old friends, and they were all ecstatic to see their eight feet tall, golden retriever who just wanted to make the world a better place.

Marvel: “So your not an hero anymore? Then what happened to the JSA?”

Alan Scott (First Green Lantern): “We disbanded…”

Marvel: “WHAT? Why?”

Alan: “Well, we were getting old. We needed to retire.”

Marvel: “Oh yeah.” *sounds a little bummed*

Alan: “I mean, there’s now this thing called the Justice League? Wildcat joined them. So did Mr. Terrific.”

Marvel: “That sounds like a ripoff of you guys!”

He joins anyways. So do the other Fawcett heroes cause they might as well. That’s when things go down hill once more because the JL are forced to remember that a couple Fawcett heroes, mostly Spy Smasher, kill people.

Batman and Spy Smasher: *tied up the Joker after beating up his goons*

Spy Smasher (SS): “Alright, let’s get out of here.” *pulls out a gun and puts it to the Joker’s forehead*

Batman: “What are you doing?”

SS: “I’m ending this…?” *cocks his gun*

Batman: *slaps the gun away* “No, you’re not. He’s going back to Arkham.”

SS: *pulls another gun out* “Yes, I am. Are you seriously telling me you don’t want to permanently end this guy? I’ve heard people call him a terrorist.”

The two then duked it out and the Joker still went back to Arkham anyways. Spy Smasher was so salty, not that literally anyone could blame him.

Marvel: “Wait, so people don’t kill villains anymore?”

SS: *sitting next to him, bandaged*

Wildcat: “Nope. Nowadays, you got to turn them into the police and let them break out again. I know it’s stupid.”

Marvel: “But what about the mass murderers? What about the Black Adams or the Captain Nazis? People who have done messed up stuff?”

Wildcat: “To jail they go. Why do you care anyways? It’s not like you killed any of your villains.”

Marvel: “Well, I didn’t, but I gotta ask because Smasher is trying so hard not to physically claw off his own skin at the thought of these guys just breaking back out.”

Safe to say, getting used to the modern world, took some getting used to for everyone. As for Billy, he chills with the gang at the old folks home, reminiscing about times as if he’s aged with them.

Also, like, genuinely, their disappearance would show up in top ten unsolved mysteries vids because genuinely, they just disappeared with no trace.

Billy also doesn’t know what to think of the many memorials he finds of himself and the other Fawcett heroes around the country.

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messenger-of-babel · 4 months ago

Text

Coloured Red

Summary: He likes you in his colour, just not that like that. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: blood and injury. Hope everyone's having a good week so far! Not my favouriteeeeee Jason piece I have written but please enjoy anyways. xx

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It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Never like this.

He had been working out of the manor for a few days, something he was already reluctant to do. However, you had sent him off to "work" with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him well for whatever convention Librarians had. Instead of your boyfriend being the gruff librarian sorting returns every night, he was in fact the red masked vigilante cooped up in the cave, pacing back and forth in front of the Bat computer while Tim tried to trace their latest suspect.

Dick had called him back for some extra firepower in the latest case, and if he hadn't owed him one Jason would be back with you in a heartbeat. "Get anything?" he grunts to Tim, who's fingers are typing strings of code into the keyboard.

"Not yet," he hums, the younger man's face twitching with annoyance as the firewall warning flashes across the screen again.

"Give it time, Jay. we don't want to let them know we're onto them." comes Dick, who’s leaning against a railing and still fully suited up from his earlier patrol. "I've checked all through The Cauldron and Southside, no trace of them there. Penguin must have closed up shop around Cobblepot Steel when he started working with his new friend. Going through great lengths to gatekeep his new buddy from us." he hums.

"Well I want to get this meet and greet over with," Jason grumbles, crossing his arms while he scuffs his boots impatiently.

"Bee in your bonnet, Red?" Dick calls and Jason scoffs.

"You put it there. You wanted me to help take 'em down while the Bat is out of town with Superscout, but you don't even know where they are. I've spent a full night just waiting for boy genius here to get a lock."

Dick puts his hands up in mock surrender. "We'll be done soon, promise. Then you can go home to your sweetheart. Hey, you can even say you came back early just to see them. I'm helping you get brownie points." he grins, nimbly dodging the hand Jason had swung out to slap the back of his head. "Where are they anyways? Their place?"

"Safehouse." Jason grunts back. "Staying at mine while I'm helping you lot. Old Gotham, near the GCPD. Besides, I told them to mark down I'd be back tonight on the calendar anyways."

Dick whistles. "Didn't think you had a place that close to the cops."

Jason just shrugs. "They're not after me, and if they were it would be somewhere they wouldn't look. Plus it's a nice distance from you all." he grumbles.

Dick pushes off the wall coming to lean over a monitor near Tim. "Well if our mystery person is teaming up with Penguin, and he isn't interested in the drug business, what is he here for?" he hums, eyes focused on the map of Gotham that Tim has pulled up. He taps the screen after a second, zooming in. "Here. Dixon Docks. We haven't checked here yet. Penguin used to smuggle through here, but it also became a bit of a meet up spot. He might have gone back to old ground."

"Yeah, but Penguin shifted his focus into drug running. Bruce put him under pretty heavy surveillance, managed to shut down a lot of his operations for a while. You really think he'd be that stupid to start trying to smuggle firearms again?" Tim piped up.

"Maybe. But Maybe its not firearms. This spot used to be a mob meeting spot. He never visited the operation personally unless-"

"Unless he wanted to order a hit." Jason cut off his older counterpart, voice becoming modulated as he fixed his mask to his face. "Seems there's a chance his new play pal is a hitman."

"For who though?" Tim asks.

"Maybe the hit isn't one Penguin is ordering. maybe the Penguin's selling info." Dick calls, testing his in earpiece before giving Jason a nod. "Me and Hood are going in to take a look. Track our location and keep the cameras on."

Tim nods while Jason and Dick head for the bikes, mounting each of their respective vehicles.

"Finally something to do." Jason groans, stretching his arms above his head before catching the cocky grin from Dick speeding past him. "Show-off." he murmurs, his own engine roaring to life as he follows suit.

They had cleared the dock pretty easily, Dick's hunch being correct. Between the two of them the middlemen and thugs were strewn across the floor of the warehouse, and Tim had already called the GCPD to come pick them up for the arrest. "No sign of our flightless friend." Jason grumbled, stepping over an unconscious thug.

"Nor our new mystery visitor." Dick concludes, tucking his escrima under his arm as he goes through the stack of papers at the makeshift desk tucked behind some shipping containers. Jason has known the eldest robin enough to know when he was worried, and the tight way he now held his body was a clear sign. "You find something?" he asks, boots thudding as the come to stand beside him.

"You think Oz was beginning to catch on?" Dick asks quietly, turning the page to show Jason the blurry CCTV photo of Bruce, a crude cowl and ears drawn over the image in sharpie.

"Shit," Jason breathed, taking some of the papers from Dick and beginning to flick through it. "This is all of us." He confirms, worry beginning to gnaw at his bones. There were photos of Tim leaving the city library and entering the Wayne Tower. Photos of Dick back in Bludhaven in a police uniform, photos of him at galas. Photos of Damian at school and meeting with Alfred. The more he flipped through them the more his heart dropped. There was a photo for nearly every 'apprentice' of Batman, surrounded by question marks.

"Whoever is joining the dots isn't fully convinced of it themselves." he murmurs, blood freezing as he sees a photo of himself there. A photo with you on his arm next to him. Dick comes to peer over at it, cursing under his breath.

"Hood, don't panic-" he tries to soothe, but Jason is already pushing past him to tear at more of the documents on the desk. He rifles through the papers, the sound of approaching sirens and Nightwing's urging to leave the scene deafened by the ringing in his ears. In his tightly clenched hands there was a leger, with a list of addresses. In the middle, was his address. The address he had given you, highlighted in yellow.

"We need to go." Dick urges, hurrying him to mount his bike. Jason jaw clenches, and he shoves the piece of paper into his brothers’ hands.

"Yeah. We do." he grits out, but he hopes Dick can't hear the sheer fear held behind his teeth. His bike speeds off, roaring through the side street they came on as he reroutes for Old Gotham. Dick looks down, eyes wandering over the red written date next to the highlighted address, tonight date. "Jesus," he breathes out, quickly following behind his brother before he does something reckless.

Jason doesn't think that he'd ever driven that fast since he'd been on the run from Bruce, throwing the bike into park so violently outside his apartment that the tires burnt as they squealed. Dick wasn't too far behind him, calling out for him to wait in between talking to Tim on the other end of his earpiece. His heart is thudding in his ears, hands feeling cold as he scales the stairs to the fourth floor, knocking on the door rapidly. He didn't care he was in his full suit. He could make some bullshit excuse if you were fine, claiming some noise disturbance or the wrong door.

But if he wasn't?

Then someone was going to fear the fact he was already suited up.

"I told you to wait, Hood-" Dick snaps at him, slightly out of breath from having to run behind him. Jason doesn't listen, shoulder slamming into the door when you don't come to answer.

"Don't you have the key?" Nightwing hisses to him.

"Left it in my civvies." he grunts, stumbling slightly as the door gives way. "I wasn't really expecting to…" he trails off, bile rising in his throat and blood draining from his face. Dick pushes in next to him, still scolding. "You can't just go in like this-" he cuts himself off, catching sight of what Jason was burning into his brain. "Oh no, Jay..." he whispers, but Jason is already moving to your side.

His hands come to your head, softly cradling it in his large palms. Two fingers come to press against your neck, his breathing evening out as he finds a weak pulse. "They're still kicking." He grunts out, other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. He closes his eyes trying to scrub the image of you lying there in the living room, sprawled on the carpet surrounded by the shards of the broken window and white rug drinking your blood.

Your eyes flicker weakly and you make a faint cry when he presses down on the wound by your ribs, a sound that tears him up inside. "Shhh," he tries to say softly, but the modulator makes it robotic, stripping the emotion from it. "I gotta put pressure on it. Did you see who did it?" he asks. He can faintly hear Dick calling for Robin on the end of the commlink, calling for paramedics to come to his address.

He hates how warm his hands feel, gloves heating up as if they were stealing the life force from out of you. Blood is flecked across your lips from the spray, faintly mumbling the words, "didn’t see them."

He nods along. "That’s okay, that’s okay." he murmurs, but he wasn't sure who he was telling that to.

"Red Hood…" you groan out, hand coming the grip his wrist as he pushes firmer on the bullet wound. Your fingers are bloody, smearing the crimson across his suit. "You gotta…you gotta find my boyfriend," you cough weakly. "They were here for him. He’s just…he's just a librarian…" your eyes tear up, throat swelling with the weight of your words. "He was just coming back tonight…oh god…you have to find him… what if they-" you sob, causing your face to scrunch up at the pain that ripples through your body. "I wanna…I wanna see him."

Jason's heart is tearing into pieces as Dick kneels to your other side, hands coming to your non-wounded side as he preps the area, Tim faintly heard giving instructions on how to stabilise you until the paramedics arrive. Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears. Despite the side glance he gets from Nightwing, he pulls one hand up to his face, feeling for the latch under his jaw to release his mask.

When he pulls it away his eyes are red, tears already built in the corners. His lips have a tremble that hasn't been felt since he was in the single digits on the streets, and his hairline is beaded with sweat from worry. He offers you a weak smile, unable to stop the shooting pain that wracks his mind watching the hazy confusion on your face.

"Jay?" you whisper, the word more mouth than sound. He nods reluctantly.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Oh god, it wasn’t supposed to go like this.

He dreamt of the day that he could tell you his identity, of his real profession. He imagined all the best scenarios of you accepting him, of letting him spin you around the kitchen when he picked you up by the waist like he did so often. Of telling you while you both read together on the couch, your legs pulled across his lap. He never imagined the bad scenarios. He pushed those to the back of his mind. But as you reached up with bloodstained fingers, dragging the sticky red across his cheek in that oh so familiar motion, he knew right then that this was the worst situation imaginable.

He lets his tears wash the red from your fingers, trying to blink them out of his eyes so he could focus on saving you.

"Hold on, sweetheart." he murmured weakly, desperately praying for the wailing of the siren to reach his ears.

He had always said how much he loved red, loved you in the colour. Loved you in his colour.

Now he was thinking he never wanted to see you bathed in this much red ever again.

#dc #dc comics #dc fanfic #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader angst #red hood angst #jason todd angst #angstober24 #angstober 2024 #day 03 #day 3 #messenger of babel #writing challenge

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muwapsturniolo · 2 months ago

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...Looks pretty 𐙚 C. Sturniolo

"Answer me or I stop."

✘ NSFW content ahead, fingering, mutual play, exhibitionism (?), the girls might as well be lesbians!

@bernardsbendystraws pov for doll is in the title!!

Bun was scared, her stomach in the pits of hell.

Her, Doll, Chris, and Matt had decided to sit in the living room and watch a movie. Nick would have been with them, but he had work meetings to attend, so the four were on their own.

Each couple were in their own world, curled up on opposite couches and watching 'Planet of the apes'. However, Chris and Matt had their own plans.

The two males knew how close their girls were to each other, in fact, they were too close to each other. The girls would cuddle with each other, change in front of each other, and sometimes even kissing eachother.

It's like they were attached at the hip - Like they were in a relationship.

So Matt and Chris decided to test how close they really were, as well as show the girls who they belonged to.

Chris eyes Bunny, watching her eyes dart across the tv, reading the subtitles quickly so she won't miss the action on the screen. He looks to Matt, giving him a subtle nod before starting to rub Buns thigh. The girl thinks nothing of it, used to Chris always touching her in some way.

She loved it, she loved affection - his affection.

However, what she didn't love was the way his hand started to sneak up her thigh and down the front of her frilly shorts, the same shorts Doll was currently wearing. She tenses and tries to pull his hand away, her brows furrowed and eyes wide. She hears Chris snickering softly. She may be sitting in front of him, but she could just see the smirk making it's way onto his face.

"Chris-" she hisses softly, her eyes darting to Doll and Matt, hoping they didn't see or hear what was going on.

He ignores her and simply spreads her folds apart and begins toying with her clit. Her eyes flutter shut before she snaps them open, trying to look inconspicuous.

She couldn't believe she was letting this happen, she felt bad - sort of.

The situation was ludicrous yet exciting, the idea of her boyfriend fingering her while her best friend and her best friend's boyfriend were just a few feet away, made her embarrassingly wet. The idea of being caught, maybe even having them watch, made her brain go fuzzy and her walls flutter.

She finds it hard to stay quiet, biting her lip and constantly clearing her throat.

"Y-You ok B-Bun?"

Bunny's head snaps to Doll, her eyes wide thinking she had been caught. She tries to get away with nodding, but Chris doesn't let her, asking her another question as he speeds up his assault on her puffy and aching clit.

"Yeah Bun, you ok?" Her breath hitches as he whispers in her ear, his breath warm.

"Answer me Bunny, or I stop."

"I-I'm goo-" Her jaw drops open as Chris pushes two fingers into her aching hole, immediately curling them against that spot that makes her turn into a mess. Her fingers harshly grip at Chris's arm, trying to stop herself from moaning out loud.

However, as soon as she hears a soft moan falling from Doll's lips, she allows her own to follow. It became clear what was going on, both boys forcing the girls to participate in exhibitionism. She couldn't even be mad, it was something so taboo yet so exciting.

Now not having to hide what was happening or what she was feeling, Bunny throws her head back onto Chris’s shoulder, closing her eyes and gyrating her hips to match the quick yet lazy movements of his fingers.

“M-Matt!”

Bunny’s eyes snap open hearing Dolls voice, her focus now on her.

She looked so pretty.

Her face scrunched, her lips in a soft pout, the way her nipples poked through the tight fabric of her tanktop.

It was an erotic sight.

She’d never tell the other three, but the sight of her best friend being pleasured was enough to send her over the edge.

“Come on Bun, let go f’me.”

Chris pants into her ear, his own orgasm approaching. Her walls flutter around Chris’s finger, her moans going up in pitch. Chris groans lowly as he feels her wetness seep through the material of his sweatpants, his dick twitching softly.

Both girls lay against their respective boyfriends, panting softly and high off of their orgasms, their minds racing with thoughts about what just happened.

Chris and matt look to each other, confirming what they already knew with a silent nod.

Both girls were more than comfortable with each other for this to happen.

What group activity could be next?

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oh-katsuki · 1 year ago

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it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops

cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,

wc: 3.1k

nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.

frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.

he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.

you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.

you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.

"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."

"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."

"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."

nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.

"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."

"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.

"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."

"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."

nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.

you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.

you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.

you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.

one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.

"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.

nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.

"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."

"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."

you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"

"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."

nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.

you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.

nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."

"sorry," you say.

"don't be," he responds.

this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.

"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.

"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.

"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."

you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.

you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.

"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.

nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.

you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.

"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."

nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.

"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.

"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.

"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."

you shake your head, "you."

nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.

you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.

something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.

nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.

"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."

nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.

"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.

you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.

you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.

nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.

your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.

for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.

you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.

instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.

you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.

"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.

nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.

nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.

you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.

"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"

you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."

nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.

"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.

something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.

nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.

a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #tw: a/b/o #tw: breeding #tw: dubcon #i can't find my writing tag #also there are prob spelling mistakes in here i apologize #i apologize if this isnt very good

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felassan · 3 months ago

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David Gaider on Zevran, under a cut for length:

"I was going to skip over Zevran, honestly, as I felt like I didn't have a lot to tell in the way of stories about him... but I know he still has some (ardent) fans. Plus, on reflection, I thought maybe I DO have a few things to say. 😅 Sooo we'll see how this goes. Zevran came along much later in the DAO process, as we were trying to round out the cast of party members. Alistair and Morrigan were well underway (as "main" characters, they were concepted very early) and I'd just started to consider who our Rogue followers might be when... things changed, a bit. See, BioWare had released a game not long beforehand called Jade Empire. It had included some same-sex options in its romances - not obscured like the way Juhani's "romance" had been hinted at in KotOR, but explicit. To this day, I have no idea who on the Jade Empire team was behind it, or why. More to the point, the same-sex options had received a lot of attention and praise - almost universal praise, in fact. In 2005, everyone was just pleasantly surprised. And I don't recall if I went to James and asked about it or if he came to me to suggest DAO should include it. The latter, I think."

"You might ask "Aren't you gay, Dave? Weren't you already pushing for this?" And the answer to that is, emphatically, "no, not at all". It might seem odd looking through the lens of 2024, but there was no talk of 'representation' or 'diversity'. Not at any level where we were aware of it, anyhow. Today, fans argue about how MUCH representation to include and whether it's done well enough... the idea that, less than twenty years ago, it being included *at all* was very much in doubt feels so far away. But, back then, I'd always assumed my private life and my work in games would never meet. So I think it was James who brought it up, because I remember being startled. Pleasantly so, of course. Now I had to look at our two rogues and figure out how this would apply. I sketched out the female of the two (who was taken on by Sheryl Chee) and then looked at the male - he who became Zevran. I'd been reading about the CIA and one thing that stuck with me was how they'd (allegedly) recruit gay men as assassins because they rarely had familial ties. Zevran wasn't going to be gay (bisexuality wasn't a question of representation, but a cost-benefit compromise) but that was the inspiration."

"Then there was the question of how "flamboyantly" I was writing this character, whether that might be too stereotypical? I don't remember how it arose, but I had too many "flamboyant" friends to do anything other than double down. This character was gonna be Zorro the goddamn Gay Blade, that's what. So that's how Zevran happened. Fun, a bit nihilistic, maybe a bit too overtly flirty for today's audience but very confidently *sexual*. Everything I'm not, so I'll admit it was an interesting exploration to dig down and find that voice somewhere inside. He was the anti-Alistair, and I needed that. Casting him was difficult. Caroline always tried to go for authentic accents, when we could, but for some reason this was getting us nowhere. I think back, and I suspect it's because I hadn't yet learned the lesson to not use terms in casting descriptions I thought were universal... but were not. What do I mean by that? Well, there was one write-up that said "drow elf". Now, I know what a drow elf is. It wasn't even important to the description, but the director saw the word "elf", and you know what we got back? A Keebler elf. Like a leprachaun, high and sweet and cutsie. Can you imagine?"

"In this case, I think it was the use of the word "assassin". Combine that with the sorts of roles many Hispanic actors in LA probably are asked to play, and all the auditions we were getting were 150% dark, mean, and gritty. 🫠 So we widened the casting call a bit, and this led us to Jon Curry. I knew Jon wasn't Hispanic, but what I wasn't prepared for when I flew down to meet the DAO actors was that he's this extremely tall, extremely Nordic looking dude who just happened to do the most amazing Antonio Banderas impression. Watching THAT man channel Zevran was... more than a bit surreal. 😅 And he had fun with it. As soon as we gave him the go ahead to play the fun and flirtiness to the hilt, that's exactly what he did. Over the few days where we found Zevran's voice, it totally supplied me with something I could hold in my head when I went back to Edmonton and finished writing him. Zevran was funny enough that the fans liked him. The only part of the reception I thought odd was the occasional comment by a male player who felt "tricked" into having sex with Zevran. "You mean... that part where he invites you to his tent for a sensual massage?" "Yes! I was expecting a massage!" "He literally says the massage is sensual." "Well he wasn't clear enough!" This is where I first came to the conclusion that a certain number of our players just don't know how to people. And that maybe an adjustment to the way we approached the messaging (or massaging lol) of romance was in order. If I could go back, would I change anything? Maybe I'd remind the systems team Zevran should really be able to pick a lock. And maybe not allow him to die. We had no idea we'd need to import these choices into the future - we kinda thought DAO was "one and done". Not so much, as it turned out. 😁"

[source thread]

David Gaider: "there's something to be said about how Zevran flirted and even had sex with you because he thought that's all he had to offer... not just you, but anyone. And when he realized you wanted something deeper, suddenly he was on unsteady ground and it truly unsettled him. It was fun to explore." [source]

User: "So David - besides loving the fact that the third image you picked is a gay sex scene - what happened in DA2(DAE - come on) with Zevrans design?" David Gaider: "Check the ALT text. It wasn’t a custom sculpt, so that’s as close as they could get it. Which… was not close." [source]

User: "Just to make sure I fully understand: the director (was it the voice director?) saw the word "elf" and thought you were looking for someone high, sweet, and cutesie?" David Gaider: "Yeah, this was from back before we managed VO in-house. The voice director in this case just didn’t have an association with “elf” like some familiar with fantasy would." [source]

#dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #jade empire #lgbtq #alistair theirin #fav warden #morrigan #queen of my heart

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joelmillerisapunk · 1 year ago

Text

a sweet arrangement

sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ♡ Sugar Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,374

Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?

Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (both m&f receiving), light bondage, reader might have pullable hair (i dont rememeber if i took it out) quick mentions of slut, baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, darlin

Notes: tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers. I was cheated on over the weekend, and I wrote this as a "I wish I could be here" instead of being sad." Just another rich!daddy fantasy

You've been feeling financially stretched lately, and after hearing about the concept of sugar daddies and sugar babies from a friend, you decided to give it a try. You sit on your bed and hesitantly create a profile on a popular app, describing yourself as a young, independent woman looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you sit scrolling through, you can't help but feel a sigh of reluctance escape your lips. You never expected to find yourself on a sugar daddy dating app, but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.

After a few moments of looking around the site, a notification pops up. It's a message from a user named "Contractor_Guy."

Curiosity piques, and you open the message, hoping it's not some creepy come-on. To your surprise, it reads:

"Hey there. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I figured it's worth a shot. My name's Joel. If you're interested in getting to know me, send me a message back."

Feeling intrigued, you reply:

"Hi Joel, I'm not sure what 'this sort of thing' is, but I'm curious now.”

The response comes quickly.

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, 'this sort of thing' is something I usually avoid. But hey, it's a new day, and who knows what it might bring?"

You: Hopefully luck! But seriously, what exactly are you avoiding?"

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, well that's a bit of a long story, darlin.”

You: "Oh, I don't mind a long story. I've got some time to kill. Besides, I find it intriguing that someone like you is on a sugar daddy app.”

Contractor_Guy: "Well, my last experience wasn't the best, and I'm just being cautious this time around.

But, here's the long version. I met a girl a few years back, and at first, things were great. We clicked, and the relationship was mutually beneficial. I was able to provide for her in a way she couldn't for herself, and in return, she was there for me when I needed emotional support. As time went on, she started to change. She became more demanding and less appreciative. It got to the point where she would expect extravagant gifts just for a simple text or phone call. I realized that she was only interested in my money and not in the relationship we'd built."

You: "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to find someone who's genuine and appreciates what you have to offer."

Contractor_Guy: "Yeah, it was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm hoping to find someone different this time. Someone who appreciates the little things, too, not just the material things."

You: "I think that's a fair expectation. We all deserve to be appreciated for more than just our wallets. So, Joel, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

Contractor_Guy: "I'm a contractor. I do mostly residential construction and home remodeling projects. What about you? What do you do when you're not scrolling through dating apps?”

You: "Lol, I'm usually at work. I'm a graphic designer, so I spend most of my days in front of a computer. It's not the most glamorous job, but I love what I do."

Contractor_Guy: "A graphic designer, huh? That's pretty impressive. I've always been more of a hands-on guy myself. But I must admit, there's something intriguing about a woman in the arts.”

You: "And who doesn't love a man who can wield a hammer and a chainsaw with equal ease?"

Contractor_Guy: "Oh, I'm definitely good with my hands darlin' ;). ”

You: "Maybe one day you'll show me just how good you are with your hands."

As the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, you both exchange numbers and agree to meet for a coffee date tomorrow. Before signing off, you send a playful message with a picture attached

You: "Well, I'm off to begin the countdown to our coffee date. I'll leave you with this little teaser. ;)"

Insert a picture of you posing confidently in a cute outfit, with a mischievous grin on your face.

Contractor_Guy: "Wow, that definitely has me counting down the hours! I can't wait to see you in person."

With that, you end the conversation eagerly anticipating your first in-person meeting with the intriguing contractor.

The two of you meet for the first time at a trendy coffee shop downtown, and you can immediately sense Joel's charm and confidence. You can tell he's done this a time or two. He offers to buy you a drink and pulls out the mattest black credit card you have ever seen to pay with. He guides you to a table in the back corner, and you both engage in light conversation, discussing your interests and goals. Joel is clearly intrigued by you, and you feel a spark of attraction towards him as well.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Joel says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Well, like I said on the app, I'm a freelance graphic designer," you reply, “It's not the most stable job, but I love what I do."

"I can imagine," Joel says, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've always been a fan of the arts. But I'm sure you understand the struggles of making ends meet as a freelancer. That's why I'm interested in this arrangement."

"I do understand," you agree, your mind already contemplating the potential benefits of such an arrangement. "It would be nice to have some financial stability while still being able to pursue my passion."

"Exactly," Joel says, his tone firm but understanding. "And in return, I'd like you to be my companion when I need someone to spend time with. We can go on dates, attend social events, or just relax at home. I value your company, you're easy on the eyes and brain, and I believe we would make a great team."

"I think that sounds fair," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm looking for something similar - someone who understands my situation and is willing to help me out."

Joel offers to take you to his place for a glass of wine, and as he leads you to his car, the conversation shifts to the details of the arrangement.

"Now that we've established the terms," Joel says, his voice low and serious, "I want to make something clear. I'm going to support you financially in any way you could ever dream of or want, but there's one condition."

"What's that?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.

"I want access to you whenever I please, however I please," Joel says, his eyes meeting yours. "I want to be able to use you for my pleasure whenever I want. Are you comfortable with that?"

Your heart races as you consider his request. You know what he's asking for, and you're not sure if you're ready for that level of intimacy. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.

"I need some time to think about it. This is a big decision."

"Of course," Joel replies, his tone understanding. "Take all the time you need. But remember, this is the condition of our arrangement."

As Joel drives you to his mansion, you can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This is unlike any arrangement you've ever been a part of, and you're not sure what to expect. As you follow Joel upstairs, your heart races in anticipation. He leads you into a large, dimly-lit room, its walls adorned with black velvet and soft, glowing lights. A large bed dominates the center of the room, surrounded by various toys and restraints.

"I want to show you what I mean when I say I want access to you whenever I please.” Joel says, his voice thick with desire.

Joel leads you over to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a seat on the edge, patting the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft and inviting.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the curiosity and excitement pulsing through you win out, and you find yourself sitting down next to him. Joel's hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says, his gaze intense.

You feel your entire body get warm at the compliment, your heart racing faster than ever before. "Thank you," you murmur.

Joel's hand begins to trace a path down your arm, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as Joel's hand continues to explore your body. You're not sure what to do, but you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body craving more.

"I want to show you something," Joel says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stands up and walks over to a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He opens it, revealing a variety of toys and restraints. Your heart races as you take in the sight. You've never seen anything like this before, and you're not sure what to make of it. Joel walks back over to you, a blindfold in his hand. "I want to show you how good it can feel to let go and trust someone," he says, his voice soft and soothing.

You hesitate for a moment but something about Joel's words and the look in his eyes makes you feel safe, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He gently places the blindfold over your eyes, cocooning you in darkness. You can feel his hands on you, guiding you back onto the bed. You trust him, and you let yourself relax into the feeling of his touch.

Joel's hands continue to explore your body, tracing patterns and circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the bed shift as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. Your breath hitches as his hands continue to wander.

Suddenly, you feel something soft and silky against your skin. It's a scarf, and Joel is using it to gently bind your wrists to the bedposts. You gasp at the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation is not unpleasant. Instead, it heightens your senses, making you more aware of every touch and caress.

Joel continues to explore your body, his hands moving lower and lower until they reach the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He slowly begins to slide your pants down your legs, his hands lingering on your skin as he goes. You can feel the heat of his touch, and you find yourself arching up towards him, wanting more. Finally, your pants are off, and Joel's hands are free to explore your body in earnest. He caresses your thighs, your hips, your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel yourself growing wet, your body responding to Joel's touch in ways you've never experienced before. You moan softly, your hips bucking up towards him. Joel takes the hint, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He begins to explore you, his touch gentle but firm. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. His fingers move in slow, deliberate circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moaning louder and louder, your hips bucking up towards him as you chase the feeling of release. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You cry out as the orgasm washes over you, your body trembling with pleasure. Joel continues to touch you, his fingers gentle as they bring you down from the peak of pleasure.

Slowly, your breathing returns to normal, and you become aware of your surroundings once again. The blindfold is still over your eyes, and you're still bound to the bed. But you feel safe and content, your body still humming with pleasure. He unties the blindfold, and you blink your eyes against the sudden brightness of the room. He's standing above you, a wicked smile on his face. "Did you like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes sir," you get out with a hoarse voice.

Joel's gaze travels down your body, taking in the sight of you spread out on his bed, still bound to the bedposts. "Mmm, such a good girl already," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I have so much more I want to show you."

He walks over to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and rummages through it, pulling out a variety of toys and restraints. Joel turns back to you, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

“You may."

Your heart racies with excitement as Joel cuffs your hands above your head, replacing the soft, luxurious ribbon, and securing you back to the bedpost. You test the restraints, finding that they hold you firmly in place. Your heart is racing with excitement, your body tingling with anticipation. He walks back over to the chest and pulls out a vibrator. He turns it on, the buzzing noise filling the room. You watch as he approaches you. He traces the vibrator over your body, teasing you with each touch. You arch up towards him, wanting more. But Joel is in control, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation until you're nearly begging for release."Are you ready for more, darlin’?"

“Yes please,” your breath coming in short gasps.

"Good girl." He traces the vibrator lower, teasing your clit with each pass. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. But he pulls the vibrator away just as you're about to come.

You whimper in frustration, but Joel just smiles. "Patience, baby, patience," he says.

He continues to tease you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm again and again, but never letting you fully come. You're writhing on the bed, your body begging for release when Joel leans down and whispers in your ear. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"

You nod, your heart racing. "Yes, I do," you whisper.

Joel smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. You're ready for whatever comes next.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take you to the edge, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And then I'm going to bring you back again. And again. And again. Until you can't take it anymore."

Joel's hand moves back to the vibrator, tracing it over your clit once again. This time, he doesn't stop. He continues to tease and pleasure you. Suddenly, Joel pulls the vibrator away once again. You whimper in frustration, but before you can protest, he's replaced it with his mouth. His tongue expertly teases your clit. His hands roam your body as he brings you to the brink of orgasm once again. This time, however, he doesn't stop. He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers entering you and curling against your G-spot as he pushes you over the edge.

You cry out, your body shaking with pleasure as you come hard against his mouth. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to torture you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, you gasp for breath, your body still trembling with pleasure. Joel's gaze is intense as he watches you, his face flushed with arousal.

"That was so, fucking good," you manage to gasp out, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm.

Joel smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you thought so," he says, his voice low and seductive. "But I think it's your turn now."

"My turn?" you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes," Joel says, his smile widening. "It's time for you to return the favor.”

You feel a pang of nerves flood your body. “But I'm still all tied up.”

Joel smirks, leaning in. He grabs the hollows of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “ I never said you needed to be untied, did I.”

You swallow hard, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Joel releases your cheeks, his gaze traveling down your body. "You're going to make me very happy tonight, sweetheart. Just remember - I want access to you whenever I please, however I please. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," you reply, your voice full of submission.

Joel's smile widens, and he reaches down to unfasten his pants. He steps out of them and his boxers, revealing a hard, thick, ready erection. He climbs onto the bed, his legs straddling your chest. "Now, I want you to take me into your mouth," he says, his voice firm and authoritative.

Your heart is racing as you obey. He brings it up to your lips, and your tongue darts out to lick the tip. You can taste the hint of salt and musk, and you find yourself growing aroused again. You open your mouth wide to accommodate his size. He tastes so good, so intense, and you can't get enough. You begin to move your head, your mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Joel gasps, his hips bucking up towards you.

Suddenly he grabs your hair and holds his cock to the hilt, filing up your entire throat, blocking your airway. You try to gasp for breath as Joel holds you down on his large throbbing cock but it's no use. Your head is swimming with pleasure and arousal, and you're not sure if you can take anymore. Just then Joel releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to breathe again. You take the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Joel smirks down at you. "Such a good little slut for daddy already," he says, his voice full of praise. "Daddy wants to see more. Show me how much you want me."

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as Joel pulls away and undoes your restraints. When he's back on the bed, you take him back into your mouth, your hands roaming his beautiful, full thighs. You begin to suck and lick at his cock, your tongue exploring every inch of him. You can hear Joel growing more aroused, his breaths coming in short gasps.

You feel a hand on the back of your head, guiding you. Joel is thrusting into your mouth, his cock sliding in and out. You moan around him, your hands reaching up to cup his balls. He's tensing, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. Suddenly, he lets out the most primal groan you've ever heard, his cock swells in your mouth. He thrusts into you one more time before coming. You can feel his warm come filling your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. Joel groans, his hips stilling as he rides out his orgasm.

You pull away, gasping for air and Joel collapses onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the satisfaction on his face, and you feel proud of yourself. You've never done anything like that before, and you're not sure how you feel about it. But there's a part of you that's excited, that wants to do it again.

You're both panting heavily, your mind still reeling from the intense experience you've just shared. Joel's gaze is locked on yours, his eyes full of admiration and desire. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I can't wait to show you more." A wave of excitement washes over you as Joel reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his fingers lingering against your skin. "I want to make this arrangement work, darlin," he says, his voice soft and earnest. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons."

Your heart races as you consider his words. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure if you're ready for the level of intimacy and commitment this arrangement requires. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins, the thrill of being desired and pursued by someone like Joel. You nod, your heart racing with both excitement and trepidation. "I think I'm ready to accept your condition," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons, too."

Joel's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and serious. "I promise you, I want nothing more than to care for and support you, both financially and emotionally," he says firmly. "And I expect the same companionship in return."

You take a deep breath, your mind racing with the implications of your decision. But there's a part of you that's eager to explore this new world, to find out what it means to be truly desired and cared for by someone like Joel.

"Okay," you finally say, your voice full of resolution. "I want to make this arrangement work too."

Joel's face breaks into a smile, his eyes filled with relief and joy. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice full of gratitude. "I'm going to make sure you never regret this decision."

---

Thanks for reading ❤️ let me know if you'd like more from these two

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #daddy!joel miller #sugardaddy!joel miller

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