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felassan · 11 days ago

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EuroGamer: 'BioWare knew the deepest secrets of Dragon Age lore 20 years ago, and locked it away in an uber-plot doc'

Original creator David Gaider on how "some of the big mysteries are being solved".

Rest of post under a cut due to length and possible spoilers.

"As I write about the secrets hidden in Dragon Age's mysterious Fade, and as I uncover some of them playing Dragon Age: The Veilguard, one question keeps rising up in my mind. How much did BioWare know about future events when first developing the series more than 20 years ago? That's a long time, and back then BioWare didn't know there would be a second game, which is why Dragon Age: Origins has an elaborate and far-reaching epilogue. Why lay so much lore-track ahead of yourself if you don't think you'll ever get there? But look more closely at Origins and there are big clues suggesting BioWare did know about future Dragon Age events. There are obvious signs in the original game, such as establishing recurring themes like Old Gods and the Blight and Archdemons. But there's also Flemeth, Morrigan's witchy mother, who's intimately linked to events in the series now - more specifically: intimately linked to Solas. Does her existence mean Solas was known about back then too? There's only one person I can think of to answer this and it's David Gaider, the original creator of Dragon Age's world and lore. We've talked before, once in a podcast and once for a piece on the magic of fantasy maps, where we discussed the creation of Dragon Age's world. And much to my surprise, when I ask him what he and the BioWare team knew back then, he says they knew it all. "By the time we released Dragon Age: Origins, we were basically sure that it was one and done, but there was, back when we made the world, an overarching plan," he says. "The way I created the world was to seed plots in various parts of the world that could be part of a game, a single game, and then there was the overall uber-plot, which I didn't know for certain that we would ever get to but I had an understanding of how it all worked together. "A lot of that was in my head until we were starting Inquisition and the writers got a little bit impatient with my memory or lack thereof, so they pinned me down and dragged the uber-plot out of me. I'd talked about it, I'd hinted at it, but never really spelled out how it all connected, so they dragged it out of me, we put it into a master lore doc, the secret lore, which we had to hide from most of the team.""

"This uber-plot document was only viewable on a need-to-know basis, he says, and only around 20 people on the team had access to it - other senior writers mostly. And even though Gaider left the Dragon Age team after Inquisition, and then eight years ago BioWare altogether, meaning he didn't work on The Veilguard at all, he believes - by looking at the events in the new game - his uber-plot lore "has more or less held up". That's impressive. What's even more impressive, or exciting, is that back then he also envisaged a potential end state for the entire Dragon Age series - a point at which it would make no sense for the series to carry on. "I always had this dream of where it would all end, the very last plot," he says, "which I won't say because who knows, we could still end up there. But the idea that this uber-plot was this sort of biggest, finite... That the final thing you could do in this world that would break it was there as a 'maybe we would get to do that one day'... There was just the idea of certain big, world-shaking things that were seeded in that arc, some of which have already come to pass, like the return of Fen'Harel." You've read that correctly: the idea to have Fen'Harel, also known as the Dread Wolf, reappear, was seeded all the way back then, way before Inquisition - the game in which he does actually reappear. But the concept for Solas, as a character who was Fen'Harel in disguise, was a newer idea. "That spawned from a conversation I had with Patrick [Weekes] and a number of other writers," Gaider says, "as an idea of 'what if you had a villain that spent an entire game where he's actually in the party and you get to know him?' Now, the god version and his larger role in the plot, yes that was known, but not that he would be presented as a character named Solas." Fen'Harel being known about means the other elven gods were known about, which means all of that stuff Solas reveals about his godly siblings - that they're not gods at all but evil elven mages he locked away behind the Veil - was known about back then too. "Oh yeah," Gaider says. "Everything that Solas tells you [at the end of Inquisition DLC, Trespasser]: it's all part of that original uber-lore - that was all in our mind." But why have so much lore if you're not certain you'll get to ever realise it? Well, to create a believable illusion. By creating an "excess" of lore, as Gaider describes it, Origins made Thedas feel like an old and believable place. A place with history, rather than a Western set that was all facade and no substance."

"BioWare also did something canny with the lore it did relay then, too: it shared it through the voices of characters living in the world, making it inherently fallible. In doing this, Dragon Age veiled its truths behind biases. The church-like organisation of the Chantry proclaims one truth, while the elves and dwarves proclaim another. Sidenote: you can experience this yourself through different racial origin stories in Dragon Age: Origins. This way, there's no one, objective, irrefutable, truth. "To get the truth, you kind of have to pick between the lines," Gaider says. So even though elven legends are coming true through the existence of Solas and The Veilguard's antagonist gods, it doesn't mean that's the one and only truth. There's truth in what the Chantry teaches and what the dwarves say, he tells me, which ignites my curiosity intensely. BioWare has also been tricksy in how it's rubbed out the lore the further back in time you go. "In general, the further the history goes back, we always would purposefully obfuscate it more and more," Gaider says - "make it more biased and more untrue no matter who was talking, just so that the absolute truth was rarely knowable. I like that idea from a world standpoint, that the player always has to wonder and bring their own beliefs to it." It leads into a founding principle of Dragon Age, which is doubt - because without it, you can't have faith, a particularly important concept in the series. It's where the whole idea of the Chantry's Maker comes from and with it, the legend about the fabled Golden City - now the Black City - at the heart of the Fade. This is the very centre of the lore web, and, I imagine, it's close to the series endpoint Gaider imagined long ago. All secrets end there. Did Gaider know what was in the Black City when he laid down Origins' lore? That's the question - and it startles me how casually he answers this. "Oh, yeah," he says. "What was in the Black City: that's the uber-plot. I knew exactly. "Was it as detailed in the first draft of the world?" he goes on. "No. I had an idea of the early history because that's where I started making the world. So the things that were true early-early: I knew exactly what the Black City was and the idea of what the elves believed, and what humans believed vis-a-vis the Chantry - that was all settled on really early. Then I expanded the world and the uber-plot bubbled out of that.""

"Gaider shows me the original cosmology design document for Dragon Age: Origins as if to prove this - or rather for the game that would become DAO. The world was known as Peldea back then. I can't share this with you because I see it via a shared screen on a video call, and because Gaider doesn't want me to, mostly because the ideas are so old they're almost unrecognisable from what's in the series now. But I can tell you it's a document that's just over a page in length, and that there's a circular diagram at the top showing the world in the middle and the spirit realm ringed around it. And on that document is reference to the Chantry's beliefs about a God located in a citadel that can be found there. Gaider says BioWare knew about Fen'Harel (the Dread Wolf) 20 years ago when it was developing Dragon Age: Origins, and that he'd one day reappear. The Fade wasn't known as the Fade back then, either, but as the Dreaming, because it's the place people go when they dream - an idea that lives on still. And if that sounds familiar to any fans of The Sandman among you, it should. "I'd say The Sandman series was probably fairly prominently in my head," says Gaider. "I liked that amorphous geography that was born from the psyche of collective humanity. I'd say yes, if I was to point at something specifically, that's probably where the very first inspiration of it took root." It's a lot to take in, but it reinforces the admiration I have for Dragon Age. Just as I have when hearing about the creation of my other favourite fantasy worlds, such as A Song of Ice and Fire, I begin to understand the magnitude - and the deliberateness - of the plotting that went on. I wonder if one day the Dragon Age series will end in the way Gaider first imagined, albeit slightly altered by the many other pairs of hands shepherding it along now. What a curious feeling it must be to know, so many years in advance, where things might go. Where that end is, I don't know, but I do know we'll take a significant step towards it in The Veilguard. After all, we're coming into contact with gods who were there at the recorded beginning of it all. "Yeah - we have access to people who can tell us the truth from first-hand experience," Gaider says, "although again, it depends on what the writers did with it. But if they continued the tradition of Dragon Age, you never know for sure if Solas is telling you everything, or what you're learning is the entire truth. "But yes, some of the big mysteries are being solved. I mean, will they one day definitively tell you about the Maker? Will we crack the big mysteries of the world and just make them answered finally? And does that ruin one of the central precepts that Dragon Age is founded upon? Maybe," he says. "Ultimately, that lore, when you make it big and you hint at it and hint at it and hint at it, it becomes a Chekhov's Gun of sorts. Eventually you got to pony up.""

[source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #morrigan #queen of my heart #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #solas #dragon age 5 #(note: i just want a tag to start filing things under which are about the possible future thats all ^^)

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mtchee · 5 months ago

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An Honour to be in a Harem!? - [Genshin Impact SAGAU] | MDNI | GN AFAB 18+

blurb:

The concept of all these gorgeous people bowing before you is hard to grasp, but it's even worse to think that they'd actually offer themselves to you as a love interest. So obviously, you brush them off and decline, retorting that just because you're their supposed Creator doesn't mean they should feel as though they had to subject themselves to your unwanted affection. After all, who were you really, to compare to them? Unfortunately (or fortunately, actually) they seem quite boggled at your output. Ah! It all makes sense now! Their dearly Beloved is the shy type! Worry not, your Grace! Your dearest acolytes are more than happy to bask in any sort of attention you decide to share! Rest assured, they'll take care of all your needs~

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, kind of a sequel?, afab bodied, you are dearly beloved and longed for <3, realistically if this happened i would rather die of a heart attack, lots of love and affection!!, mdni, spicy content, swearing, smut, overstim, manhandling, voyeurism, squirting, fingering, cunnilingus, sub [name], use of terms cunny cunt pussy tit breasts, help i'm embarassed i wrote this omfg who am i, would u believe me if i said this is my first smut

| masterlist | genshin impact collection |

< prev. - amab! ver. - next. > [afab] [amab]

[3.0k]

What is this bullshit.

You can't help but just blink at the Archon knelt at your feet, his head bowed low. When you emit a shocked squeak he looks up at you, amber eyes latching onto your flustered expression.

Your gaze darts around the few others surrounding your throne--you only really sit in it when the people of teyvat line up for personal prayers and blessings, or when someone tells you to. Otherwise, you avoid sitting in it.

Venti, Ei, Al-haitham, Ayato, Ningguang, Jean, Furina, Neuvillette, and Tartaglia stand past Zhongli who is knelt before you.

You force a polite smile and let out a nervous laugh, "Aha, um... d-dont.. you don't have to do that. Really."

"Do not misunderstand, Beloved," The geo Archon stands to his full height, and you feel small despite the grandness of your seat, "it truly would be my--our, utmost honour." He places a hand over his heart and bows lowly by the waist. The others follow in tandem, and you panic.

"No! Really," Although all your fanfic dreams were coming true, knowing that these are now very much real people and not just characters put you on edge. They all have their own lives to live, their own goals and ambitions, likes and dislikes, preferences and attractions that you certainly didn't and never would attain.

At first, the idea is flustering and the offer makes you feel giddy, but looking into it, you feel bad. They see you as their All-Maker, who are you to make them miserable?

"You don't need to do that. I-I know there's that rumour going around, but really, I'm fine by myself."

"Your Grace," Ei steps forwards with a tiny furrow in her thin brows, "please, it would be our honour--"

"You know what would really be an honour," Your heart stings slightly, but you straighten up on your throne and give your audience a reassuring smile, "is if you went out on your own to seek who you actually love, to find a partner you'll be happy to spend your time with--to love on your own accord. That, would be an honour, I'd say."

You're not oblivious to how everyone reels back at your words, a mixture of shock, fear, and disbelief covering their features sported by prominent frowns.

Al-haitham is the one to break the tense silence that freezes the room.

"Beloved," His eyes flicker over you, thought and theories wiring around his ever working mind, "are we unsatisfactory?"

You blanch, "Gah! No! Oh my--it's nothing like that!" You can't help but feel flushed under the intensity of their eyes.

"It's just, you need to not see me as a duty."

You address them calmly, forcing your fluttering feelings down to school your face passively.

"You need to focus on yourselves, and your own lives. I'm not here to come between that."

Their silent stares are unnerving, and Venti and Furina share a look with hidden smiles while Jean steps forward with a respecful bow.

"Of course, your Grace."

"F-Fuck..!"

Embarassed tears sting your eyeline while you hold your breath, desperately trying to get ahold of yourself.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Your pretty eyes roll to the back of your head and a loud moan is forced out of you each time Ayato's fat cock plunges in and out of your sloppy cunt.

He sits leant against the finest silken pillows with your naked back pressed against his bare, toned chest, an arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other sweetly fondles with one of your spit laden breasts.

Thoma lay stomach down on the soft doona, face buried dutifully between your quivering thighs which he holds apart with surprising strength. He tongues at your swollen clit fervently, and you cry out in humiliation when your slick gushes from your slit and onto the expensive fabric below.

"G-nngh!" You clench your eyes shut at the embarassingly loud noise of skin slapping against skin and the lewd sucks of Thoma's mouth and the squelching of your pussy, "a-ah..! Ah! Ah!"

The Kamisato Commisioner lets out a low moan by your ear, feeling your hot and gummy walls squeeze down on his cock deliciously.

"Remember-- hng! R-Remember to breathe, my beloved."

He gently squishes the enticing softness of your tit, bucking up into you abruptly when you let out a squeal as he pinches your nipple.

"M-Mm~ my dearest," Thoma moans onto your slickened pearl, and you just about explode at the burst of electric pleasure that shoots up your spine, "you taste.. divine..~!"

Your heart thrums at the messy sight of him, his lips, chin and cheeks covered in your honey thick slick with half lidded eyes locked onto your expressions. You let out a needy moan when you notice him desperately grinding his naked hips into the bedding for release.

A now all too familiar searing pleasure suddenly coils in the utmost depth of your body, and you scream at the sheer ferocity of it.

"C-Can't! I can't!"

You buck your hips away from Ayato's throbbing length and bump into Thoma's chin, but they only follow you--the commisioner's arm moving from your waist to your hips, locking you in place while Thoma's grip moves from your thighs to the underside of your knees, opening you up and forcibly holding you still.

You dig your nails into Ayato's arm, your other hand fruitlessly shoving at the housekeeper's head to push him away.

The pleasure becomes piercing, and you choke on a sob as your gushing cunny just goes squelch, squelch, squelch with every thrust you have to take. His cock feels so dangerously good, and you fear your clit might bleed from its continuous onslaught of pleasure.

Thoma's tongue licks at the opening of your slit and the base of his lord's cock, and Ayato curses lowly, his grip tightening.

You feel something thick and heavy and hot spurt inside you, though the pounding doesn't let up and the near painful coil violently pops inside you, and you shriek in tandem with the burst of watery clear fluid that squirts from your throbbing cunny.

Your face burns hot with humiliation, and you can only muffle your embarassed moans into the fabric of the couch.

Naked and vulnerable, you're bent ass up and face down over Al-haitham's lap with his dominant hand knuckle deep in your wet pussy.

Maybe, just maybe you might've been able to handle this amicably, but not with Kaveh walking in and berating the Akademia Scribe turned Grand Sage on his pleasure skills.

With your ass held high and knees spread, your leaking cunt is on display for the genius architect while his roommate fingers you ruthlessly, constantly prodding and rubbing that special squishy spot inside you that renders you immobile.

"H-Hah.. mmngh! Ah..."

You can do nothing but take it and drool on the couch while they squabble above you as though you're not there.

"--Y-You brute! That's our beloved and you're treating them like that!?"

"I'd say our Creator quite likes it."

You stifle a screech when Al-haitham takes his other hand and spreads your ass open to prove his argument to Kaveh.

"See?" He takes out his fingers and spreads them apart, watching your hot slick string apart, "and here too." You sob loudly as he gently prods your pussy lips apart to stare down your red, throbbing clit.

Kaveh's face flushes at the lewd display, and he gulps while setting his suitcase down off to the side before approaching.

"A-And?"

"[name] has cum thrice already."

Kaveh's brow twitches, "Were you not going to clean them up?!"

Al-haitham huffs indifferently despite the miniscule tint of pink arousal across his cheeks, "I'll leave that to you."

The blond hmphs at him before cooing at you softly, praising you with your title and demeanour.

"Our beloved," He caresses your back, and you shiver pleasantly at the tingle it stimulates, "you've been so good, haven't you? Done so well..."

He hushes you gently as he moves closer behind you, kneeling at the couch's edge, face level with your puffy cunny. Al-haitham remains quiet this time around, his non-slick covered hand patting your head lovingly.

"It's okay~ I'll take good care of you now, I'll clean you up all nice, alright?"

You only whine when he sinks his tongue into your pussy, lapping up your spilled juices and nipping at your reddened bud. Your body trembles with an absentminded moan when he sucks on your sore little clit, and he emits a noise of suprise as a new abundance of syrup leaks from your opening.

Al-haitham quirks up a brow, "Four times, now."

"Mercy! M-Mercy..!" You cry out.

"Oh," Lisa tuts demeaningly, "no, no, no dear one~ You see, you didn't quite seem to believe our intentions true when we offered ourselves to you. So it only seems right that we prove it, yes?"

You can't squirm away from Eula's mouth, her strength baffling as she keeps you stood still against the Grand Master's desk with ease. Amber mouths at the mounds of your breasts, obessed with how soft the fat of them are.

You whimper loudly when Eula curls her two fingers into your front wall, clenching down on her and nearly screaming when she thrusts them into you punishingly.

Jean can't help but watch in stunned silence of you, your voice and body ethereal. She can't wait to get a taste of her own as you shudder and gasp.

It was bad enough when Venti had his way with you earlier under Vanessa's tree, simultaneously teasing you and giving you everything you wanted.

He ran his mouth with words that were both endearingly sweet and pure debauchery, controlling the winds to graze at your hardened nipples with ghost like touches that left you spasming and breathless.

He'd shown you his choice of belonging to you through the intimate thrusts of his hips and sloppy, loving kisses across your body--he'd then guided you back to the gates of Mondstadt with the help of the wind to keep you balanced.

You cry when a thin zap of purple shocks your pulsing clit, cumming instantly while Eula's tongue soothes over it with the help of her cryo ability. Your lewd honey drips down your leg and onto the floor, and the blue haired girl sneers at the waste of it.

A whimper escapes you when Amber nips at your soft tit a little too harshly, and she murmurs a timid apology, looking up at you reverently before continuing.

"P-Please..!" You hate how they've all been able to make you cry with pleasure, as though they always knew just what they were doing to you, "it..-it hurts now..! A-Aaahhh..."

You let out a long, breathy whine as you cum again, tears steaming down your cheeks as the gentle wave of bliss washes over you. You almost miss Acting Grand Master Jean calling for someone to enter after a knock on the door.

Humiliation of your state causes you to flush and shut your teary eyes as Kaeya walks in, gaze latching onto you immediately.

He closes the door behind him, humming lowly at the sight.

His eye glints in dirty interest, a grin creeping up his lips at the sound of your whimpers and sloppy cunt.

"Oh? It's our turn already?"

"Kaeya! You're just in time," Lisa grins mischieviously, "I believe our dearly beloved is ready for something... thicker, now." She smiles as though her filthy implication were a casual statement of time.

You hate being the centre of attention, but fuck does it feel good. You hate feeling so vulnerable, but good god do they take care of you.

Maybe, just maybe you could allow yourself to indulge in their affections...

Nope.

Hate. You hate, hate, hate, hate hate it.

You whimper quietly, head bowed to hide your face from the prying eyes of the others seated around you.

You're back in the lands of Inazuma, in the very same place you were last time the picnic was set up. It was much more lavish this time around, based in the early evening with a gorgeous ocean view, lights strung up in the trees and scattered atop a few stable rocks.

The blankets laid down were much thicker this time, and the pillows larger and fluffier. The sunset paints the horizon gold and pink which fades into a rich purple and, eventually, the glimmering darkness of night.

You sit in Zhongli's lap, a spare blanket covering your bare lower half as you squirm on his throbbing cock. You could feel his other drooling pre-cum against your lower back.

The others had been coaxing you to eat your share of the platter, Navia and Wriothesly feeding you small portions since you were too shy to do so yourself.

Though ashamed and bashful, you can't help but clench and throb, and you fluster when Zhongli lets out a small groan from behind you.

Navia places a comforting hand on your covered knee.

"Beloved Creator, are you alright?" Her voice is soft, loving.

You swallow sharply, shoulders hunched and tense nervously from those watching.

"Your Grace?" You glance over at Diluc who huffs with a small blush of his own, "we'll take care of you."

Your cunt throbs, and Zhongli thrusts into you.

You yelp at the sudden motion, straightening up instinctively to balance yourself only for your most devoted to thrust into you again, and again, and again. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you seated, and the blanket slowly slips from your lap from the movement.

"A-Ah! Zhon--aahhh!"

Squelch, plap, slap, his fat cock hits the textured roof of your squishy insides and sends an overwhelming shock of pleasure through you. Throwing your head back with a lewd moan, both your embarassment and arousal increase tenfold at the sight of your most shameless worshippers touching themselves at the sight of you.

Others swallow roughly, barely holding themselves back with a single thread of dignity. Those of them watch with eyes that burn your body into memory, and the intensity both frightens and arouses you.

The better of them murmur and coo praises at you, causing your stomach to flutter and your pussy to gush.

You pant loudly when Ayato softly intructs you to breathe, and you squeal when Tartaglia reachs out to play with your pretty clit while rubbing his neglected cock.

"Pl..ease..! Hah..!"

You feel a pair of lips on your neck and whine, whimpering shamefully when Neuvillette starts whispering sweet praise into your ear, sucking on your skin softly. You white knuckle the thick blanket by your forcefully opened legs and clench your eyes shut in humiliation.

Your cunny starts to tingle with sparks of pleasure that strike your overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you flush at the feeling of your sex juices trailing from your slit to your ass, soiling Zhongli's clothed lap and the pillows and fabric below.

"Hng! Cumming! AH!" You shriek, thrashing in their hold, "c-cumming! H-Help, 'm cumming-- oohhh~ Ohh~"

That weird prickly feeling coils in your tummy again, and you let out a lewd and bratty whine when they don't let up on their touching.

"S-Slow! PLEASE! F-Fuck! Feels funn-y~!"

When you slap at Childe's hand, your own are quickly restrained by Kazuha who simply smiles with red cheeks and mutters to you flowery reassurances.

The sound of your pussy is loud, it's noisy, and filthy. You emit a desperate, pleading wail, not knowing if your subconscious is trying to beg them to stop or to stay.

Saliva pools in your mouth then begins to hang open as your starry eyes roll into the back of your head, chest heaving.

Your thighs tremble and your fingers twitch--Kazuha intertwines them with his own, and you lock onto the comforting hold.

"G-Good!" You can't stop yourself from babbling, "m-makes me feel soOo goood~!"

"Oh, sweet one~" Yae Miko giggles.

"You understand that we choose you now, yes?" Ningguang hums with a teasing quip. Her eyes torn between your adorably lewd features and your swollen, glistening cunt.

"Relax, beloved. It's only us, your most faithful~"

"Mm, don't hold back, dearest."

"Can you moan for us, beloved? You sound just delicious when you moan!"

"Are you gonna cum for us?"

"It's not fair how they got a taste of you first~!"

"Hng..! A-ah, hah!"

"Oh-oh! Beloved, calm down, you're alright. Just let it happen.."

"Do you feel good, your Grace?"

"--c-cumming- cumming! Cumming..!"

A white hot blaze of heat crashes over you, and your ears ring as your body trembles in utter bliss. Your slick pussy squeezes and gushes with your lewd honey, and as your abused little pearl sears with an almost painful pleasure, your body squirts out your most powerful orgasm that soaks the blankets and the people surrounding.

Pleasure caused tears leave hot stains on your face, and your head lulls to the side tiredly. Your chest heaves for breath as you come down from your high, and it takes a few moments before the ringing finally stops and you can hear again.

Doting whispers and coos are the first thing you process, followed by something thick and hot leaking out of your stretched and now empty hole.

A hand caresses your head as many others touch on you innocently, checking in on you and taking care of you.

Someone holds a glass to your lips, and someone else helps you lean forwards to sip.

You startle at the feeling of a soft mouth coming to gingerly lick and suck at your sore pussy, and you let out a delirious whine.

Another acolyte hushes you gently, kissing you softly before another joins in peppering kisses all over your tired face to distract you from the one cleaning you up between your legs.

You still feel light headed from the embarassment of it all, but you've latched onto the pleasant tingling you feel when they look at you so adoringly--more lovingly than just in reverence.

No, actually.

You don't hate this at all.

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago

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Luxury and Lessons - Bucky Barnes

Character: concierge!Bucky x heiress!female reader

Warning: A lot of curse words.

Summary: A spoiled heiress is sent to work at her family’s luxury hotel, where she clashes with Bucky, the handsome and strict manager who is fiercely dedicated to the hotel’s success.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 ,-

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Birds chirped softly in the background, their melodies blending with the gentle rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. The sun shone brightly over the Serene Sanctuary Resort, casting dappled shadows on the vibrant array of flowers lining the walkways.

Their petals swayed lightly, adding a touch of color to the already picturesque surroundings. In the distance, a crisp thwack sounded as someone struck a tennis ball, the rhythm of play harmonizing with the resort's tranquil atmosphere.

Serene Sanctuary Resort was known among high-budget travelers as a luxurious escape, a place where every detail was meticulously curated for comfort and elegance.

At the heart of this paradise stood a man adjusting his suit with precise movements. The suit, clearly tailored to perfection, hugged his frame with a classic elegance that spoke of both sophistication and tradition.

His name was James Barnes, but everyone called him Bucky. His badge gleamed on his chest, catching the light just so, perfectly straight and centered.

Bucky was known for his exacting standards. His office was a testament to his need for order—each object had its place, not a single pen out of line. Even the slightest tilt in a flower vase did not escape his notice, and he promptly adjusted it with a practiced hand, ensuring that everything was just as it should be.

His colleagues respected his attention to detail and the unwavering precision he brought to his role as hotel manager. For everyone who worked there, James "Bucky" Barnes was a familiar presence, the very essence of the resort's commitment to excellence.

Bucky Barnes had a polished appearance that perfectly matched the elegance of the Serene Sanctuary Resort. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his sharp blue eyes scanned his surroundings with a practiced gaze that missed nothing.

His suit, tailored to fit him like a second skin, spoke of classic sophistication, and his polished shoes reflected the light as he moved with a quiet confidence. He wore the hotel's badge with pride, a small but gleaming symbol of his dedication.

To him, the resort was more than a job; it was a labor of love. He took pride in its reputation and in every guest who walked through its doors.

Bucky walked through the lobby of the Serene Sanctuary Resort with a calm confidence that immediately put people at ease. His polished appearance and the way he carried himself radiated professionalism and warmth, making him the perfect face for the hotel.

As he approached the front desk, a couple waved enthusiastically. “Mr. Barnes! Good to see you again!” the woman called out, her face lighting up at the sight of him.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson! Welcome back,” Bucky replied with a genuine smile. “How was your flight?”

“Smooth, thanks to your tip about avoiding the morning rush,” Mr. Thompson said, clearly grateful.

“I’m glad to hear it. We’ve got your favorite suite ready, and I’ve made sure the minibar is stocked with that Pinot Noir you love,” Bucky added with a wink.

The Thompsons beamed. “You always remember the little things, don’t you?” Mrs. Thompson said warmly.

“It’s my job to make sure your stay is perfect,” Bucky replied, his tone sincere. “Anything you need, just let me know.”

As he moved toward another guest, an older gentleman patted him on the shoulder. “Bucky! Good to see you, son. My usual room, I hope?”

Bucky nodded, a respectful smile on his face. “Of course, Mr. Martin. I’ve already sent up fresh flowers, just like you prefer.”

“You’re the best, Bucky,” Mr. Martin said with a chuckle. “Honestly, I come back to this place mostly because of you.”

Bucky laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling. “You’re too kind, Mr. Martin. But I’m happy to hear that. Your loyalty means a lot to us.”

As he continued to make his rounds, more guests greeted him by name, exchanging warm smiles and friendly banter. It was clear that Bucky had a unique ability to make every guest feel special, as if they were the only ones staying at the resort.

And in return, the guests adored him, many coming back year after year just to be welcomed by his familiar, reassuring presence.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over Bucky. He turned to see Steve Rogers, the hotel’s head of guest relations, standing with a serious expression. Steve was usually calm and composed, so the worry etched on his face instantly caught Bucky’s attention.

"I've got bad news," Steve said, his voice low.

“What is it?” Bucky asked, his brow furrowing.

"You've got to see this first," Steve replied, pulling out his phone and handing it to Bucky.

On the screen was a video of a woman, clearly intoxicated, slurring her words as she stumbled through a crowded party. "Whose gonna pay for all this?" a voice in the background asked, laughing.

The heiress grins broadly, waving her glass in the air. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” she says with a dismissive laugh. “I’ll just cut my employees' salaries to cover the cost! Let them eat cake, right?”

The group bursts into laughter, clearly finding the comment hilarious. The camera zooms in on the heiress, who’s now giggling uncontrollably, oblivious to the implications of what she just said.

“Yeah, yeah!” another friend chimes in, mockingly raising a toast. “To the hard-working folks who don’t get a break!”

The heiress rolls her eyes dramatically and raises her glass. “To the workers! May they always work hard… for me!” She bursts out laughing again, almost spilling her drink as she does.

The video cuts off abruptly, but not before capturing a few more drunken cheers and clinking glasses, leaving a bitter taste in the viewer’s mouth.

Bucky’s face tightened with anger as he scrolled through the video. “Little narcissist who puts herself above everyone else,” he muttered under his breath. He continued scrolling down, reading through the online comments:

"This is outrageous. The rich really don’t know what it’s like for us working-class people."

"How can someone be so out of touch? Does she think this is funny?"

"As someone who works at a hotel, this is infuriating. We work hard every day to make these places run smoothly, and this is the thanks we get? A pay cut to fund her parties? Unbelievable."

"Maybe if she spent a day in our shoes, she’d think twice before making fun of us. The ignorance is mind-blowing."

“She’s the sister of the hotel owner, right?” Bucky asked, looking up from the phone.

“Right,” Steve confirmed. “And she’s coming here.”

“Hiding?” Bucky guessed, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing.

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head, his expression turning even graver.

“Then what?”

🏨🏨🏨🏨🏨

The room was dark, the curtains drawn tightly to block out any hint of daylight. The air was thick with the stale scent of alcohol and the aftermath of a wild night.

Suddenly, the room was flooded with blinding light as someone forcefully yanked the curtains open. Sunlight poured in, stabbing through the darkness and landing squarely on the figure sprawled across the bed. The clock on the nightstand showed 11 a.m., but the person under the covers showed no signs of stirring.

"Wake up!" barked a voice filled with anger. It was Tom, head of Serene, the global luxury hotel chain. He stood by the window, glaring down at his sister, who was still buried under a pile of blankets.

You groaned, pulling the covers over your head to shield your eyes from the blinding light. "Leave me alone," you muttered, still drunk from the party last night, and slapped Tom’s hand away as he tried to pull the blanket off.

Tom's face twisted with frustration. "I'm going to fucking kill you with my own hands!" he snapped.

"What the hell are you so mad about?" you mumbled, slowly waking up, rubbing your eyes. "Did you forget to take your meds this morning?"

Tom's patience snapped. "Take out your damn phone and see for yourself," he shouted.

You sat up reluctantly, grabbing your phone from the bedside table. Your eyes widened as you saw hundreds of missed calls and countless notifications mentioning you on Instagram.

"Are you out fucking of your mind?" Tom yelled, pacing back and forth, his hands clenched into fists. "I just met the investors last night, then talking with the union about employee salaries, and now this? You're dragging the company’s name through the mud!"

You squinted at the screen, reading the news headlines. Your stomach sank. "Shit," you muttered, slapping your forehead. You remembered last night’s party, the alcohol, the recklessness. "Fine, call the PR team and have them handle it."

"Already did," Tom snapped, his voice dripping with exasperation. "Were you completely out of it last night? Did the drugs and alcohol fry your brain?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at you with a mixture of disgust and disappointment. "And you stink," he added with a grimace.

Great. Your brother was really pissed. You could feel his anger radiating off him.

"This isn't just about me, or you, or our damn reputations," Tom continued, voice low but fierce. "You’ve jeopardized the whole company. If the royal family cancels their stay at our hotel because of this, that’s on you."

You rolled your eyes, still groggy. "Just drop it, okay? I made a mistake. Big deal. Everyone knows I'm a mess."

Since your parents died, Tom had taken over the Serene hotel business with remarkable responsibility. Meanwhile, you, the other heiress, had floundered. Used to a life of luxury and indulgence, you struggled with discipline and responsibility, leaving Tom to constantly clean up after you.

Your carefree attitude contrasted sharply with Tom’s dedication, and despite his best efforts to guide you, you remained the spoiled, irresponsible sibling who never quite lived up to the family legacy.

Tom sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as if carrying the weight of your actions. "I’m done letting you get away with this. You're going to own up to what you’ve done."

"Ugh, fine. What do you want me to do?" you muttered, annoyed.

“You’re going to work at the hotel,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “You need to understand what it’s like to work hard, just like our employees do.”

“No way. Absolutely fucking not,” you protested, panic rising in your chest. The thought of actually working at the hotel seemed unbearable. “You’re such an asshole, Tom!”

“It’s for your own good,” he said, his tone softening just a fraction.

Tom turned and walked out, leaving you to stare after him in disbelief.

"I’ll show you!" you shouted after him, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at the door as it closed behind him.

You slumped back against the pillows, feeling the headache and the consequences of your actions pounding in your skull. You were screwed. Big time.

✈️✈️✈️✈️

“This is not going to work,” you murmured under your breath, clicking your seat belt into place. You glanced over at Tom, who sat beside you, staring out the window of the private jet with a stern expression. He was serious about this—serious enough to send you to one of the hotels four hours away by plane.

“Just let it be. Or send me to the rehab. I’m the youngest, the irresponsible one,” you continued, your voice edged with frustration. “And you’re the oldest, Mr. Perfect, the responsible one that everyone looks up to.”

Tom sighed, turning to face you, his eyes sharp and unyielding. “Yes, as the oldest, it’s my duty. And I’m happy to do it. But you—you need to stop using that excuse. You have to change this narrative about yourself.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well, congratulations. You finally got what you wanted—to get rid of me.”

Tom's expression softened, just a little, as he leaned forward. “For the last time, I’ve never seen you as a burden. You’re my sister. I’m the only family you have who actually watches out for you.”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to get into another one of his lectures. “Don’t start with the family guilt trip. It’s a long flight, and I don’t need you giving me a headache.”

Tom ran a hand through his hair, clearly exhausted. The bags under his eyes were evidence enough that he hadn’t slept much, likely from dealing with the fallout of your latest screw-up. “Calm your tits,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “And try not to be a pain in the ass for once.”

You glanced over at him, noticing the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders slumped slightly from the weight of it all. “Whatever, Tom,” you muttered, looking away, but you could feel the sting of guilt creeping in. Maybe this time, you’d actually pushed too far.

🏨🏨🏨🏨🏨

After the long flight, you and Tom finally arrived at the resort. Stepping out of the car, you took a moment to take in the sight. The Serene Sanctuary Resort was nestled among lush greenery, with elegant architecture that blended seamlessly with the natural beauty of its surroundings.

The air was crisp, and the scent of fresh flowers mingled with the sea breeze. You had to admit, even though you’d never been to this particular resort before, it was one of the nicest you’d ever seen.

As you approached the entrance, Tom guided you toward a man waiting by the front doors. He was tall, with sharp blue eyes that seemed to notice everything, his suit impeccably tailored.

“Bucky, this is my sister,” Tom said, nodding toward you. “She’ll be staying here for a while, learning the ropes.”

Bucky extended a hand politely, his expression neutral but professional. “Welcome to Serene Sanctuary Resort.”

You looked at Tom, narrowing your eyes. “I’m gonna remember this, asshole,” you muttered under your breath.

Tom smirked, clearly enjoying himself. He gave you a mocking little wave before turning back to the car. “Play nice,” he said over his shoulder, then got in and drove away, leaving you standing there with Bucky.

Bucky, unfazed by the exchange, turned his attention back to you. “Let’s get started,” he said, leading you inside. “Tell me about your work experience.”

You shrugged. “I was a barista once.”

“For how long?” Bucky asked, his tone measured.

“A day,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

Bucky paused, giving you a look that was more evaluating than surprised. “Miss, I don’t want to be rude, but this hotel is more than just a business. It has stories, a witness to history. I need you to take this job seriously.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by his earnestness. “Seems like you really love this hotel.”

Bucky nodded, his expression softening for a moment. “I do. Who wouldn’t? I’m proud to wear this uniform.”

You rolled your eyes, getting impatient. “Alright, cut to the chase. How much do you want?” you asked, your tone brash.

Bucky didn’t flinch. His face remained calm but firm. “Forgive me for my frankness, miss,” he said, a hint of steel in his voice, “but you’re broke. Your brother has cut off your funds.”

You blinked, stunned for a moment. “What?”

Bucky nodded. “You’re here to work, not to buy your way out of this. So, let’s get to it.”

You gritted your teeth. Great. Now you're stuck with a workaholic.

Bucky led you down a hallway to your room, which was much smaller than you were used to. You couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose as you stepped inside. The space barely had enough room for a twin bed and a tiny closet. Your luggage towered awkwardly in the corner, looking out of place in such cramped quarters.

"Here we are," Bucky said, his tone matter-of-fact. He didn’t wait for your reaction, guiding you down another hallway to the locker room. “And here is your uniform.”

You looked at the plain white shirt and black skirt hanging in the locker, feeling a wave of disdain wash over you. “Why is it different from yours?” you asked, pointing to Bucky’s tailored suit.

“This?” Bucky gave a small, amused scoff. “You have to earn this uniform, prove yourself, and show loyalty.”

You rolled your eyes. “Great. So, what’s next?”

Bucky glanced at his watch. “Starting tomorrow, your shift begins at 5 a.m. sharp.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “5 a.m.?” you repeated, disbelief clear in your voice.

Bucky nodded, not fazed by your reaction. “Yes. And for your first task, you'll be cleaning the guest rooms on the third floor. Make sure everything is spotless. And then you’ll help the kitchen staff prepare breakfast.”

You stared at him in horror. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’ve never cleaned a day in my life! And breakfast prep? I didn’t sign up to be a maid.”

Bucky gave you a stern look. “This is a team effort. Everyone here plays a role in maintaining the hotel’s reputation. That includes you.”

You scratched your head in disbelief. “I’m going to sue you.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his expression unphased. “If you have the money.”

He continued calmly, “Ah, your brother told me he’ll give you back your credit card once you make it through working here for a month.”

You blinked, taken aback. “What?!”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the locker room.

Fuming, you yanked out your phone and dialed your brother. The moment he answered, you didn’t even give him a chance to speak. “Fuck Bucky, the concierge! Damn it, Tom! He gave me an impossible job! My nails will get ruined, and he put me in a tiny room that can’t even fit my bags!”

Tom’s voice came through the line, calm but firm. “You need to start from the bottom, just like everyone else.”

You could feel your blood boiling. “You have to fucking fire him! This is ridiculous!”

Tom sighed, clearly unimpressed with your tantrum. “No can do. He’s the best employee this hotel has ever had. He’s practically a legend around here.”

“Shut up!” you screamed, your frustration reaching its peak as you hung up on him.

Meanwhile, Tom was already on his way back to the jet, surprised by the abrupt end to the call. He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite everything.

His assistant, Jill, who had witnessed your outbursts a few times, looked at him with concern. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave her there? Alone?”

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. “She’ll be fine. Bucky’s there to keep an eye on her.”

Jill raised an eyebrow. “You really trust your sister with him?”

Tom nodded, his smile growing wider. “If Bucky could make a notorious dictator say that Serene Resort was the best hotel he’d ever stayed at,” he said, recalling the amusing headline from a few years back, “then taming my sister should be a piece of cake.”

Jill laughed softly. “Well, if anyone can handle her, it’s Bucky.”

Tom leaned back in his seat, relaxing a little. “Exactly. Besides, she could use a little discipline. And who knows? Maybe she’ll surprise us all.”

Author's Note: Hey everyone, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! I’m currently grappling with a writer’s block and have tried various methods to spark new ideas, but nothing seems to be working.

Any feedback or suggestions you have would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for your support!

❤️❤️❤️❤️

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dduane · 1 month ago

Note

The first part of that last message got me curious -- given how long-running of a series YW is, how do you keep track of All That when writing a new entry? Copious amounts of notes? Re-reading the entire series backlog? Keeping a fully-functioning simulation of the entire YW universe running in your head with perfect accuracy? (only mostly joking with that last one)

And somewhat-relatedly, did you have any plan or idea when you started for how long YW would run? Or was it more of a "I'll keep writing about this universe until it stops churning out ideas," type of thing and that point just (very thankfully!) hasn't happened yet? I know for per-book purposes you're a proponent of outlining (I swear I'll try writing to one one day Q_Q) but do you also apply that to a series as a whole?

Let me take this backwards, as it may make more sense that way.

Particularly when doing series work, outlining is more vital than usual for me. (Which is saying a lot.) Some of the most basic reasons for this are laid out over here.

The simplest one, though, for series outlining, is logistical. Without having achieved a sense well in advance of what events (or effects of events) are going to be most formative or important (or both) for the characters in a series, you won't have allowed yourself time to think about them enough. And to fail to spend enough time on this is to cheat both yourself and the books in the series. (And your readership.)

If you're smart, you learn very early on that attempting to save time by shortchanging or omitting the planning stages is potentially profoundly destructive. You need to have a plan... and you need not to let anyone make you ashamed of needing one. Putting off your detailed character-interaction and event planning in the name of some magically occurring fit of inspiration, or theoretical bid toward creative spontaneity, will serve neither you nor your creation. You can throw "Hail Mary" passes all you like... but you'd better be damn sure there'll be someone in the end zone to receive. ...If not Herself.

...And just in case you're worried, your initial plans can be really loose! They don't have to jump out of your head full-formed like some local war goddess after somebody hits her dad in the head with an axe. The plan for the Middle Kingdoms books—after The Door Into Fire dumped me gasping by the side of the road and left me a few minutes to breathe—was nothing more than "Now that his boyfriend's finally upped the ante beyond all expectations, Freelorn finally gets off his feckless Would-Be Robin Hood shit and gets to work becoming king." I then spent the next decade thinking purposefully about how that was going to happen, and writing the second book in the series—while sufficiently working out the fine details of the climax (and beyond) to then be able to get busy executing the third book. Even though there was a change of publishers between the beginning of that series and the end of it, the basic dead-simple MK plan from a very early stage quickly became detailed and robust enough (because the series was short enough) to withstand the change. Not least because I'd been thinking about it in a general way since the early 1970s... and continue to do so, pretty much daily. The Door Into Starlight is still hanging fire...

YW has been a different story—quite literally—because the only plan extant at the start of things was, "Everybody slowly gets older (and slowly closer)." I always knew there were going to be more than the original three: there was way too much interesting ground to cover to just stop with those. (I've never yet succeeded in finding out who started the rumor that there were only going to be three books. Over time it's become one of those things you just shrug at and move on.)

(Adding a break here, because this does go on a bit. Caution: contains publishing skullduggery, plans ganging aft agley, approximate word counts, software recommendations, and value judgments.)

("Now wait just one minute. 'Feckless would-be Robin Hood shit'? Can she just say that??")

The circumstances surrounding the writing of Deep Wizardry and High Wizardry, though, made it plain to me that I was not going to be at the then-publisher (Dell) all that much longer. By the time HW came out, they were already starting to pull away from midlist books and authors in order to spend that part of the budget on best-sellers... so it became plain to me that attempting to construct a long arc with/at that publisher would have been folly. Because who could be sure what was going to happen next, and blow everything I'd built to smithereens?

Sure enough, when I finished A Wizard Abroad, Dell declined to pick it up (even though the books had been selling steadily and increasingly strongly in paperback). This annoying validation of my concerns—and my shiny new agent's—made it plain to me that further books in the series were going to need to be thematically driven, rather than mostly character-event-driven, and almost entirely capable of being taken as standalones. Any long arc was going to have to be one that could be suspended, or reworked, with little warning. Because what happens to you once, in publishing, doesn't at all mean you're immune to it after that.

It wasn't until the YW books were picked up by Harcourt in the mid-90s, with a strong editorial team behind them, that I felt confident enough to start building longer-arc material into the books, beginning with the arc that kicks off in The Wizard's Dilemma and more or less completes in Wizard's Holiday and Wizards At War. There is a secondary (and I assume, generally less obvious) arc that picks up material still unhandled in the "War Arc," and deals with it in A Wizard of Mars and Games Wizards Play. But plans for those stories' management were already nailed down in electrons as soon as 2001, because I had made some early choices about where I was going with the characters and their situations; and as new books came out, my editors agreed with me that the choices had been sound, and should remain.

I'll say this only because I've said it before: there is one piece of business planted in So You Want To Be A Wizard that has never been explicitly dealt with/followed up on in any of the books, and is at the core of YW #11. For the moment, it's safest merely to say that I do not willingly leave loose ends hanging. Beyond that, I'll leave you all to your own deductions.

...Now. How do I keep track of all this stuff? (The urge to mutter "With great difficulty" and run off into the wings is strong. But never mind.) :)

The question's fair, as there's a million-plus words' worth of it in the series at the moment. ...Mostly my guide remains the books themselves, in ebook form (in their NME versions. If I need to, I refer back to the traditionally published versions as necessary). I normally have a general memory of where a given event happens or where a given issue comes up for handling. I then pull that copy of the ebook(s) in question, and do a search on various useful target phrases until I find what I'm after, and where it leads.

For new work, or stuff not yet committed to what passes for canon, I do have lots of notes. Some of them are actually out in public, at the currently-being-revised Errantry Concordance (though they're not in any form that anyone but me will recognize). Others are tucked away in the notes sections of pertinent Scrivener files—this being one of the most valuable things about Scrivener, as far as I'm concerned: the ability to store project notes in the project itself as opposed to "all over the damn place." Others yet are in my iPad, as either typing or dictation, and get transferred to other files/formats as necessary.

But the very first thing that happens, when a new work comes into train, is an outline. Sometimes a hilariously simple one, sometimes one with more detail in the middle than at the beginning or the end. Doesn't matter what shape it starts in. All notes, scraps, prose chunks, random thoughts, and midnight cogitations, get slotted into place in this until it's ready to be organized and sent off to an editor. And this outline—no matter how fragmentary or how polished—remains ready to hand at all times until I've finished with correcting the book's ARC and am looking at the release date.

And then I zip it up and put it away where I can find it later if I need to... because some other plan, still in the building stages, may need something in that one that never happened, but now has its chance. Because in YW, as everywhere else in my work, it's so often about the things that have always almost happened... until they do.

...Anyway: HTH!

#writing #process #you've got to have a plan #Young Wizards meta

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phoenixyfriend · 2 months ago

Text

Tony Stark & Natasha Romanova, now in Star Wars

IDK if you folks were ever MEGA into crossovers but did you ever engage with the kind that can more or less be summarized as "isekai but the person 'hit by truck-kun' is a character from a different canon?"

Because that's what this is.

Tony Stark isekai'd into Star Wars (random planet) after dying in Endgame. He knows the movies, but not the supplemental material, as even by the time TPM came out, he was thirty and fucked up and making a name for himself in war. Bad times.

Tony wakes up sixteen and with Nothing to his name but his skills. He does not speak the language. Mostly gets by doing shit like skinning potatoes for a kitchen and pulling weeds and whatnot while he catches up on Basic. (He is apparently fluent, or at least conversational, in French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, and Dari. So Basic would be his Seventh language, and while four of those can be lumped into 'if you learn one, the next will be easier,' Dari is wildly unrelated, so I'd say he could pick up Basic a bit faster than average, especially with 16yo brain elasticity.)

A toddler, two years old with intensely red hair, runs into his shins one day and yells his name very clearly. He looks down, is a little confused, and then a nearby carer from an orphanage jogs up yelling "Nat!" The toddler is Natasha Romanoff. She remembers everything, including dying, but is about twenty-five pounds soaking wet and NOBODY will take her seriously.

It takes some… effort, to explain the situation to the carer. Yes, Tony knows Nat. He worked with uh…. her 'older brother, a man named Clint.' Tony does not currently have the resources for anyone to legally give him custody of a toddler but he's got some motivation to secure housing and a stable income.

He does that. Gets Natasha with him because of course he has to do that. It's the one person he knows. It's Nat.

Turns out she's Force Sensitive, though. A 'natural extension' of her more skillgrinding abilities to read/manipulate people. Tony is not Force Sensitive but he DID recently have a medical episode that took him to a thankfully-government-funded clinic that informed him he has a Bad Heart and will require a pacemaker despite being seventeen.

A Jedi finds Nat while passing through and they Discuss Their Options. This is when Nat is about four. There is a heavy discussion about how her mind is older than her body, so the Jedi would need to be ready for that, but also Tony needs to discuss this with Nat, who was like thirty-nine(?) when she died and thus more than capable of making her own decisions.

Despite fandom generally painting Tony as the most selfish of the Avengers and Natasha as the most coldly practical, they are still heroes who put in some Fucking Effort to become better people, and they come to the conclusion that Natasha would do much more to help this galaxy as a Jedi than as some kid in poverty on a no-name planet. So off she goes!

She's like five years younger than Obi-Wan, the story reveals.

Tony is a bit aimless and the work he's BEEN doing (probably laying down electrical lines or something at this point, IDK, he got into construction or something) gets sideswept by Damage To A Tool. He knows how to fix the tool, but he does not have a forge.

There is a forge in town. He goes to it and says that he can't afford to ask to have it fixed, but he knows how to do it himself, so could he borrow access for a small fee?

This is a Mandalorian armorer. They say no. In fact, they tell him, that would be significantly more expensive than just getting it fixed.

Buuuuuuuuuut for Reasons, the armorer decides that Tony (now 18-19 physically) can do it so long as the Armorer supervises. Tony is competent Enough that the Armorer gives him a datapad and tells him to read it and come back in a week to discuss the topic. Tony warns that Basic is far from his first language and he doesn't have a whole lot of free time, so he probably won't have read it by then. That's fine, they'll just discuss what he has read.

It's about Mando culture, in a mildly propaganda-y way, and Tony comes back to Argue About Religion more than anything. He thinks the Armorer is proselytizing, which they kind of are, but they are also more than happy to discuss the lines between the Mando culture as ethnicity and culture and religion and so on.

This becomes a regular occurence. Tony has made A Friend who has started offering him a side gig doing Basic Village Blacksmith Work that the Armorer deems too menial, like "horse"shoes.

Tony is offered an apprenticeship that he did not expect, on the condition of Becoming Mandalorian.

This is. A heavy decision.

However. Tony is a guy who is at least partly defined by his cool armor. Mandalorians are defined by their cool armor. He has been told, several times, that there are multiple ways to be a Mandalorian. So he accepts, because he decides it's worth for the chance to be somebody who can make a difference in a way he currently can't.

Ten years later, 'Initiate Romanova' goes up to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as they prepare to leave, and neatly informs them that she has a feeling they are going to have a Bad Time on their mission in Mandalore, and that if they need emergency shelter from enemies, to go to an Armorer by the name of Tony Stark, because that's her brother so she knows that he's going to be friendly to Jedi. (Tony has sent her a small handful of messages, through channels both official and not, about big life events.)

Of course, shit hits the fan and the two plus Satine end up finding Tony's forge and he hides them in his Underground Bunker, which actually has a tunnel to a cave system that is safer than the bunker itself. Because reasons. (IN A CAVE. WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS.)

He has helper droids! They are named indirectly after friends from the Past Life, things like Spangles.

On their way back after the mission they swing by to say hi and he asks them to bring something to Natasha and it's a matryoshka doll set he made based on the Avengers (it goes based on age so the outermost is Thor, followed by I think Bruce, Rhodey, Tony, Clint, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision), as well as a plushie he had custom made by somebody in town of a Bird With Archery Gear, even though she's too old for that stuff.

Even among the Jedi, Natasha is WEIRD and SERIOUS and everyone's pretty damn sure she's going to be a Shadow, or at least do a HECK of a lot of undercover work.

IDK how this plays out but Tony is definitely keeping an eye on politics so he can figure out the Palpatine rise to power and remind Natasha in case she's forgotten because when they first split they didn't, either of them, know what to expect in regards to her memory given the whole Baby Brain issue.

"Why is Tony an Armorer"

Okay some more thoughts!

I think Tony's aggressively atheist and consistently watching whoever claims to be Mand'alor with a critical eye in case he has to step in, and does not take any references to ka'ra with any real seriousness. That said. He's an Armorer now. A weird one who refuses like half his clients for Ethics Reasons, but technically a cultural authority figure who's allowed to argue with the Mand’alor.

@penpalpixie:

fsr the initial meeting scenario with the armorer bugs me,like would they really just let him" but tbf Tony knows how to steamroll people and could probably dissect the forge in an instant.

Which, yeah, in my defense, I put this together in about two hours so some of it's a bit wonk? BUT. @threebea had a good suggestion for how/why the Armorer had Tony actually do things in the forge instead of telling him to scram:

Maybe Tony has been doing some 'crafting' on the side maybe droid repairs or modifications which is how the Armorer first sort of hears about him and then one day there's the kid that people have been mentioning the Stars aligned here's a pamphlet. He can't make a living off gizmos in his situation since most of what Star wars has is advanced tech and to do anything impressive he would need more resources and more of an understanding of the mathematics of this universe (Stares at ceiling one night trying to figure out if the law of relativity would be a thing here). That might slow him down just like… his math doesn't actually work here so on top of language he would have to learn things to do complicated stuff that he could already buy for a credit. But with armory it's concepts he knows well and adding weapons to armor especially no lethal ones is something he also knows. Mandalorian armor with UNI BEAM

When it comes to canon, he knows THE big thing (Palpatine is Sidious) and basically nothing else. He thinks he remembers the clones being Mando? but he's honestly not even sure he remembers the original Fett's first name correctly. He knows the guy is a Fett, because Boba was a cultural mainstay for Tony's childhood, so like, it was nice to have some backstory, but he's honestly not sure how likely "that baby Mand'alor that went missing" is to being Boba's plot-relevant dad. Could be an uncle for all he knows, or just a guy with the same last name.

@firebirdeternal:

I feel like to keep things fair Tony should be able to scale up a little harder than the average Mandalorian. Yeah all his tech knowledge is a bit out-dated and he isn't likely to get an arc reactor running in a way that'll be more powerful than anything locally available, but I feel like he'd adapt pretty darn quickly to available tech and start Improving Things Nat's skills all translate extremely well, once she's not got stumpy toddler body she's basically back to her old level PLUS telekinesis and wibbly force nonsense although I understand if that's also not the focus of the fic, being less "And now there's some Avengers Here (Powerset)" and more "And now there's some Avengers Here (Attitudes and Characters)"

Nat is very excited to Break Into Tony's Cave.

NGL this was initially going to be a Tony Raises Nat thing but I couldn't ultimately justify her NOT going the Jedi route after I realized I wanted her to be Sensitive.

There was also a discarded plot idea about her being a little older and having gone undercover in death watch, because Tony got kidnapped to work for them and got through to her, where she gets to use her Bites as a teen but I scrapped it.

I do think she successfully argues to her Master to visit him at 14 to get light armor though.

Nat's the sneakiest little initiate and also. Very, very controlled in the scary way during spars.

Bea:

Natasha as a Jedi is so good. Like, she would probably have a bit of dissonance between Jedi training and the training she received as a child, and it might help her work through some things. Nat: I've known Yoda for three days but if anything happened to him I would kil-- wait uh (pivots) I would be very sad. She would try to sneak up on council members. It is like a kitten stalking a cat on the outside, but also she's a grown woman and wants to be that good. (AU of this If Quinlan ever saw this he'd adopt her: Quinlan: Tholme I found a new padawan sister. Get training Tholme: [literally just finished with Quinlan. Had planned to take a vacation. Meditate. Drink. He loves his kid but needs literally a moment here] Tholme: She's seven. Quinlan: I was four. Tholme: … Quinlan: She has a secret tragic background toooo I know you like that 😄 Tholme: [Sigh] Nat: …wait is he supposed to be Sherlock Holmes. I think he's space Sherlock Holmes. Need to ask Tony if Star Wars had Sherlock Holmes? lol yeah Tholme just feels like he could blend well with an avengers story, and a Black Widow story in particular)

Not joking when I say I considered if I could squeeze Tholme into the timeline.

Tony sends her music files that he thinks sounds Particularly Ballet to her because he remembers how much she liked dancing, as the main or even only positive thing from her Red Room training, and how she once said that if she hadn't become a spy, she thinks she'd have liked to be a ballerina.

The first time they see each other in person in years is her visiting for baby armor at 14 and is hesitant to hug him because like. Yeah he's her "brother" and there were a few years where they were acting as such and he was helping her with Basic Tasks that she doesn't like to think about too much because it's embarrassing, and they cuddled THEN, because she was Physically Baby, but they're just coworkers in reality, right? Should she hug him? If only to sell the bit to her Jedi Master?

Tony is also not the most huggy person and isn't sure if HE should hug Nat because he remembers jokey stabbing threats from when they were Avengers and like. Does she still feel that way, now that she's not a bumbling like tot?

They are both unsure of if hugging is on the table and it's the Jedi Master who says "you know, you're allowed to hug, if you want" under the impression that they aren't sure if the Jedi would allow it. And then the hug is very tight and loving because at least subconsciously they DID both want that.

The Jedi Master takes a pic.

Bea:

Jedi master: (aw) It's one of those "we've been in life or death situations together and also grew up together kinda sorta and also we're trauma bonded," and the first opportunity to solidify Family as their dynamic they both jump in feet first. And both of them were like. Extremely lonely children probably. In different ways but still.

(It's why the Hawkeye plushie didn't make her CRY, per se, but she does start keeping it in her bed even though she's Too Old for these things.)

When it comes to hugging, Nat is understandably concerned about overstepping and like. "Taking" Morgan's place. (I'm going with Tony and Nat being friends (or at least friendly) from A1 to A2, and during the blip she stopped by for dinner once in a while. Nat doing her best to bring Child Appropriate Gifts for Morgan (she misses being Aunt Nat for the Barton kids).) Or as Bea put it: Tony: Are you spying on me or are we doing people things? Nat: Can't it be both?

Anyway, their dynamic is a weird little midpoint once they're in Star Wars but then they get to a point in the armor making where Tony takes a break on a bench and she slips in under his arm to cuddle and it's just Nice (even though he's kinda sweaty and gross from the blacksmithing).

Bea:

Tony: ….. so……. is Yoda… does he look like… is he…. Nat: …???? Tony: You saw the Muppets right? Is he still a Muppet? Nat: [totally has seen the Muppets] what's a Muppet? Tony: You're killing your brother, Nat ;A;

Also the comedy of having MULTIPLE "secret languages" that nobody can translate.

It's handy, too. Between her and Tony, but also lots of languages to give different uses to. Can teach one to a specific faction for communication. OH, the poor Threepio units! She got stuck in a room with one once, and don't get my wrong, they can pick up a language fast, but they need to hear long enough sampling of it. Nat: I'm not teaching you stop asking I do agree too that Tony and Nat no matter their circumstances would be working towards stopping Palpatine. Like is this a real space is this a dream is this another dimension that just happens to be like a movie in ours? Doesn't matter the dictator is going down.

The Jedi Master is somewhat aware of the whole 'used to be an adult, sort of' thing. I don't know that they believe she's linearly matured but probably they think it's something like what I did in Jedi Babies It's definitely more explicit with a mind healer she got assigned soon after arrival.

She didn't decide whether to play it straight and "get help" or just try to game the system until she was actually sitting down. But she'd been having screaming night terrors about things she experienced in her first life, so.

Pixie:

She meets Anakin after TPM (if it's not avoided) when Obi-Wan's trying to settle him in and goes "ah, I know how to handle this kid." At some point Anakin and Tony end up sending each other various schematics.

#star wars #MCU #crossovers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #natasha romanova #phoenix posts #I almost wrote this as an actual one-shot instead of a numbered AU buuuuuuut had to argue with a Jedi-hater instead #avengers #avengers endgame #death mention #qui gon jinn #obi wan kenobi #tholme #quinlan vos #reincarnation #isekai

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fallingdownhell · 10 months ago

Note

Hey….. soz if this is too much but can you do this https://www.tumblr.com/fallingdownhell/715302705397202944/i-absolutely-love-your-works-can-you-make?source=share

but with tighnari, wanderer and heizou thanks

Always. I always like me some angst with comfort<3 Characters Included: Wanderer; Tighnari; Heizou Summary: you have an argument with the boys, since they've been neglecting you for their work Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; some angst; hurt/comfort; some swears and mean words; Wanderer is referred to as Kuni/Kunikuzushi Word count: 3,6k words Enjoy<3

Wanderer

You love your boyfriend. You truly do.

But between him helping out the Dendro Archon and now having enrolled in the Academiya, it felt like you didn't have a boyfriend at all anymore.

You rarely got to see him, and the times you did, he was so stressed and on high alert that he would probably snap at you if you were to bring up any topic that might put more stress onto him.

So instead, you just put up with his even more grumpy attitude towards you, trying to help him with whatever you could, hoping that it might take the edge off him a bit. But nothing ever seemed to work.

On the contrary, it has only gotten worse. For the past few days, you haven't seen your boyfriend. At all. He didn't come home and he has not been seen wandering the streets of Sumeru City.

You got so worried that you decided to pay Nahida a little visit, asking if she knew of the whereabouts of your dear boyfriend. She apologized to you, informing you that he had tasked him with something important, but that he should be back by today.

And true to her words, Kuni did come back home that night. However, once again, he paid no attention to you at all. He only laid down and fell right asleep, claiming that he was exhausted from his trip to the desert.

That was the point where you couldn't take it anymore. You understand that he has a lot to deal with currently, but that doesn't give him the right to treat you like you didn't exist. So, you decided to confront him in the morning, before he would leave again, hoping that a conversation could help clear things up between the two of you.

So, you made sure to wake up before him, making yourself and him some small breakfast like you like to do. When he comes down to eat with you, you greet him a good morning, which he only answers with a grumpy hum.

"Kuni.. we need to talk.", you decide to start, not wanting to take this attitude from him any longer.

A frustrated groan leaves his lips, rolling his eyes into the air. "Really, (Name)? Now? Can't we do this another time?"

"Yeah, sure. Just let me know when you decide to acknowledge me living here with you again. No, Kuni. We talk now. I'm done being treated like I don't exist."

At that, the Wanderer starts to gets defensive of his actions and soon enough, you two are in the middle of a full blown argument, loudly shouting at each other. Every semblance of a normal conversation has long left and you were now basically spewing insults at each other, none of you willing to acknowledge the others point of view.

"Gods, why do you always have to be so annoying? Maybe, if you weren't so god damn clingy all the time, I'd pay more attention to you!"

The words leave his lips and as soon as they do, he can see a flash of hurt shine in your eyes, which you quickly try to hide. But he's already seen it, and regret slips into his body.

Silence ensues, you're just staring at each other for a few seconds. You wait, hoping that he'll take back what he said, but nothing comes from him. His lips stay sealed as he just stares at you.

"So, it's my fault now? I'm the one at fault for you basically ignoring my entire existence? Making me question if I even have a boyfriend at this point? Because that's what it feels like. I don't get to see you anymore, I have to walk on eggshells around you, and then you go and blame me for it? Do I really mean that little to you?"

Your voice is dangerously calm as you say that, tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes, but you force them to stay down for now.

You see something shine in his eyes, but you can't put a finger on what it is before it's gone again, and he averts his eyes from you. A few more silent seconds pass and you're about to just get up and leave, when you hear him mumble something under his breath.

"...-ong."

"What was that?"

"..You're wrong.", he says, looking back up at you. Now, you can clearly see the conflict in his eyes, shining bright like he's begging you not to make him say this. But you just cross your arms in front of your chest, urging him to go on.

"I... you're wrong. You.. do mean something to me. More than I like to admit. I shouldn't have put the blame for my actions on you. I... I don't want you to leave. And.. I'll try better from now on."

For a moment, you look at him, contemplating his words. This would probably be the closest to an apology you would ever get from him. But when you don't answer him, you can see him starting to get a bit restless, squirming in his seat.

"I.. I'm... sorry..", he mumbles quietly, but you still heared it. Surprised by this, you can't help but let out a low chuckle, which instantly catches his attention.

"I just want to help you, Kuni. If there's anything I can do to help with the stress, let me know. Just, please don't ever treat me like this again."

Hearing you say that, he closes his eyes and nods his head, relieve washing over his body. And for the first time in a few weeks, he decides that it's not too bad if he shows up a bit later, just to make up for the time he missed spending with you.

Tighnari

As head of all the Forest Rangers in Gandharva Ville, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Tighnari to be stressed. It happens quite frequently, actually. And although being stressed regularly isn't a good thing, it helped him come up with ways to handle it and destress again after a long and tiring day. Because the last thing Tighnari ever wants to do is let out his frustrations on his partner.

He's usually very great about communicating when he's particularly stressed, and if his words aren't a dead giveaway, then usually his tail and ears are. When things get too overwhelming for him, his tail hangs a bit looser than it normally would and his ears would also fall a little bit more. It almost makes him look like a soaked puppy. You'd tease him for it if that wouldn't sour his mood even more.

But this time, it was something different.

He wasn't particularly stressed with work or anything. But one one of his patrols through the forest, he ran into an undiscovered species of flowers. All exited about it, it has been all Tighnari has been focused about for the past two weeks.

It's all he's been talking about as of late, if you even get the chance to talk to him in the first place. Most of the time, he's cooped up in his little work place, often forgetting to take meals and breaks because he's so focused on studying the little plant and learning everything there is to know about it.

You bring him meals on a regular basis, but if you really want him to eat them, you'll have to stay with him and nudge him consistantly to take a break and eat, or he'll forget about it.

You tried talking to him about it, but he keeps shutting you down, claiming that it won't last much longer, only until he knows enough about it to figure out if it can be used in some new medicines and such. Though he did promise you to try and focus back on you and Collei a bit more.

That promise lastet for one whole day before he skipped out on dinner plans with you and Collei again. You decided that enough was enough, so the next day after the dinner, you went to him to confront him about his inexcusable behaviour.

He was exactly where he had always been these past days, you were sure he heard you approach him, since you didn't exactly try to sneek up on him, though he did not acknowledge your arrival at all.

"Tighnari, we need to talk.", you begin, walking over so you were now standing next to him, your arms crossed in front of your chest. He didn't even look up when you adressed him.

"Later, (Name). I think I'm onto something here.."

"No, not later. Now!", you stay firm, not wanting to delay this talk any longer.

Hearing your response, Tighnari answered with an annoyed sigh, but he finally placed his tools down and turned to look at you.

"Fine then. What's so important that you just have to interrupt my work here?" He raises an eyebrow, almost like he's challenging you, like nothing could be important enough for you to justify this interruption.

You however stand your ground, holding his gaze firmly. "Your behaviour is what's wrong. You've been so focused on this stupid thing that you forget about the people in your life. Like yesterday. You promised to have dinner with me and Collei. She didn't show it, but I know how sad and dissapointed she was when you didn't show up. Again."

"I'm sure Collei understands perfectly fine just how important my research is, unlike some other people, it seems." Hearing this from him, you couldn't hold back the pent up anger and frustration anymore. You unleashed it all which in turn made Tighnari even more defensive and soon enough, you were in the middle of an heated argument, your shouting to be heard by almost every single person currently within Gandharva Ville.

And though almost everyone was on your side and agreed that Tighnari had been working too much, they also felt a bit bad for him. No one would want to be at the recieving end of your anger.

The argument kept going and going, emotions continuing to boil up inside both of you, until one particular statement went over Tighnari's lips. "You know what? I don't have time to deal with you right now, (Name). I have far more important things to do. I don't need you constantly lingering around and distracting me. Honestly, you're annoying me."

Suddenly, it became almost deafeningly silent and a second later, his words catched up with Tighnari. His eyes went wide and he was about to say something, but you beat him to it.

"So, what? We don't matter to you? Am I just some form to pass time when you have nothing better to do? Is that all our relationship is to you? And what about Collei? Is she also not important to you?"

Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes and Tighnari wanted to reach out to wipe them away. He hated to see you cry, even more so now because he was the reason for it in the first place.

His hand moved on instinct, but before he came even close to touching you, you turned on the spot and dashed out of his hut, leaving him standing there.

"Wait, (Name)!", he shouted, taking off and running after you. You were fast and had a head start, but he has always been the faster runner between the both of you.

Outside the Village, he caught up to you and caught you at your wrist. You came to a halt, but refuse to turn around and face him. You don't want him to see you crying, though you're both aware that he already knows that you're crying.

"(Name), please. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't know why I even said it to begin with. You're not annoying me, never. Our relationship is important to me, very much so. I realize now that I made a mistake by focusing too much on my research and neglecting you. And Collei, too. I promise to do better from now on."

"..You've already promised me that once, and didn't keep it. Why should I believe you now?", you question him, which he couldn't blame you for. Your voice was shaking, you were trying so hard to hold back the tears, his words from before obviously still clinging to you.

"You have every reason not to, but I swear to you, that this time will be different. I swear to you that I won't let this happen, ever again. Please, trust me."

You stay silent for a bit, desperately wanting to believe him. In the end, your heart wins and you slowly turn around to face him. A small nod is noticeable before you're being pulled into his arms, his hand coming up to hold the back of your head against him.

You both stay like this for a bit, just enjoying to be in each others presence again. Only then does Tighnari realize just how long he hasn't had the chance to hold you like that, and he silently curses himself out for his own stupidity..

Heizou

Being a renowned detective comes with many benefits, but also a lot of disadvantages at the same time.

The more cases Heizou solves, the better his reputation gets, but he also makes a lot of enemies, especially in the high society fields. Not everyone always agrees with his view on justice and how he wants to achieve it, but Heizou doesn't care. So long as he follows what he thinks is right, he won't falter.

However, he is thankful to the gods above for a partner like you, who's supportive of his beliefs and decisions. He loves that you don't question him and that you understand how important his work is to him.

He knows that you've already had a lot to sacrifice for him. How he sometimes has to cancel date night because of an important case, but he's always made up for it more than enough.

So yeah, you're aware just how important his job is to Heizou. You truly understand..

But it has never gotten to a point like it has now.

For the past week, you haven't seen your boyfriend. At all.

He doesn't come home anymore, he's either cooped up in his office or out and about searching for clues. Kujo Sara told you that they've gotten a pretty serious case, one that Heizou leaped onto and is determined to solve, no matter what it takes.

Apparently, what it takes is for him to sacrifice all of his time and effort, probably forgetting that he has a life and a relationship outside his work, as well.

You tried to be understanding, even came visiting him in his office a few times with some homecooked meals or snacks. But every time you did that, he barely acknowledged you, barely even touched the meal.

You tried having some small conversations with him, but you either got short, one word answers or nothing at all besides a hum. Eventually, you gave up and just let him be, but it's been a week now since he's taken over the case and there's still no end in sight. And for the past three days, since your last visit to his office, you haven't seen or heard anything of your boyfriend.

So, on the eight day, you decided to try again. You cooked a nice meal for Heizou, packed it up and made your way over to the Tenryou Commission headquarters. Entering the building, you got a few nods as greetings from people who knew you, as you made your way straight to your boyfriends little office.

Arriving there, you took a deep breath before you knocked two times. When no answer came, your heart slowly began to sank. What if he's outside searching for clues again? Still, you decided to peek in regardless, just to be safe.

And sure enough, Heizou was sitting on his desk, multiple files and papers spread out in front of him as he was frantically reading through them.

"Hey babe.", you greeted him with a smile, but there was no reaction. Heizou didn't look at you and he didn't say a word in return. Still, you didn't want to give up just yet.

"I brought you something to eat. Figured you might want a break and something homecooked to eat."

You placed the lunchbox on the furthest outside position on his table that was still free, yet again, the action was not acknowledged by him whatsoever.

Twirling your thumbs, you wait for a few seconds, before you make another attempt at conversing with him. "So.. how's the case going?"

Suddenly, the papers fly to the desk, his hands slamming against the wood and finally, he turns to face you, though his expression looks almost furious. "It would go better if I didn't have such an annoying pest interrupting me all the damn time!"

Shocked at his sudden outburst, you stare at him. "Wow.. you don't have to be so mean about it."

"Apparently I have to, because you just can't take the hint when I don't engage with your stupid attempts at conversation making. Like, can't you see I'm too busy to entertain you right now, (Name)?"

His words stung, like he'd just slapped you in the face with them. Tears began to form, but you refused to show him just how deep his words had hurt you. But you knew that he knew. He saw the hurt in your eyes, and you saw realization flash through him as his words catched up with him.

But you didn't give him time to say anything else. He wanted you gone, so that's what you were giving him. Turning on your heels, you left his office, not bothering to close the door behind you. You could hear the yell of your name coming from Heizou, but you ignored it.

On your way out, you passed Kujo Sara, who gave you a pitying look as you walked past her. You didn't want her pity. You just wanted your boyfriend back, but it seemed like that was out of reach for now.

When you were out on the street again, you didn't know what you should do now. Going home wasn't an option, there were too many things that would remind you of Heizou back there, and you didn't want to think about him right now.

The beach... a while ago, you found a beautiful, kinda secluded spot by the beach. You decided to go there for now, maybe it would help freshen up your mind and how to move on from here on out.

The waters were mesmerizing today. The waves were calm and the sun was reflecting off the surface. You sat down in the sand and just stared out to the horizon, your thoughts beginning to wander.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't notice the time passing, the sun soon beginning to set, dipping the scenery into a serene red that you only rarely get to see. A shiver ran down your spine, but you didn't care, you didn't want to go back home just yet..

"Here you are!", a voice suddenly cuts through the silence and you flip around, recognizing Heizou who's jogging over to you. However, you decided to pay him no further mind, turning around again and staring right at the horizon again.

You take notice of his presence now next to you, but you still don't say anything. No words are spoken between you two as he sits down next to you and does the same as you, blankly staring at the ocean.

There's no indication that tells you how much time passes like this, just you two sitting next to each other in silence, until Heizou speaks up again.

"I'm sorry. About what I said earlier. I shouldn't have done that."

"..Then why'd you do it?", you question him, no emotion in your voice. He hated to hear you like that.

"I... You just came at a really bad time. And I know that that's not an excuse. Not at all. I was so close to the breakthrough in the case and I just... snapped. Again, that's no excuse and I'm really sorry about that. When I realized what I had done, Sara was coming over to me, no doubt about to lecture me. I just threw my files at here, told here the updates and then chased after you. I thought you would be going home, but when I didn't find you there, I began searching all over the place for you. And I found you here, in the end."

He ends his little monologue with a shy smile, scratching the back of his head. Then, Heizou's expression turned serious again.

"I mean it. I'm sorry I snapped at you like that. You didn't do anything wrong. You were right, honestly. I kinda forgot about you and invested too much time to that case. I'm sorry and I promise I won't let that happen again, ever."

Hearing those words from him, you can't muster more than a small nod as a response. You didn't want to argue anymore with him, you just wanted to spend time with him and feel close to him again. That's all you wanted and needed right now.

So, you slid closer to him and leaned your body against his, your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you from behind, his head coming down to rest on your shoulder.

Tomorrow, you could talk about this more with him. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy this moment with him.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin hurt/comfort #genshin impact hurt/comfort #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #wanderer hurt/comfort #scaramouche hurt/comfort #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #tighnari hurt/comfort #heizou x reader #heizou x you #heizou hurt/comfort

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kozachenko · 10 months ago

Text

I swear to god, Zanmu has just been on my mind recently, she's taking over my fucking brain please send help

Artist's Note:

Why is it that everytime I do a drawing of Zanmu I always make the canvas size fucking huge and it ends up being a living nightmare to fucking export. I swear to god I had to go from 1200 DPI to 600 to 350.

Exporting hell aside, I loved working on this piece. With Zanmu's design, I wanted to combine all the design details that I love and have seen in other people's drawings of Zanmu and give them my own personal touches. First of all, her sleeves were inspired by @amemenojaku's design for Zanmu, and I absolutley love that detail because not only does it make her feel more regal, it also can be a callback to Satori and old hell, and also gives me the idea that Satori's fashion sense was inspired by Zanmu because IRL a lot of historical fashion was inspired by what the nobles were wearing at the time, and since Satori was around since when Old Hell used to be Hell, she probably took some wardrobe inspo from her (or it could be my headcanon that Satori could've been Zanmu's royal advisor or she was in her court or something but that theory is kinda grasping at strings from other headcanons I have, but that's for a different post). Also, the eye makeup she has was inspired by @jothelion's drawings of Zanmu, and like, I fucking love that detail because it just adds so much like omg I just love it sm.

And now for the design details I put in. I gave Zanmu tassel earrings because I think they'd look great on her. I also really like to exaggerate her hair and really try to make it look wild, as well as having little grey hairs here and there. I also try to add some wrinkles to the corners of her eyes, but TBH I don't know how visible that detail is, since the image is pretty fucking big. I also really exaggerated the tassles/strings on her outfit, since I really wanted to play around with the potential flow they could have. Also, big fan of giving Zanmu longer sleeves and pants. IDK why but I just like how it flows better. Also big fan of making her taller, idk why a lot of fanart makes her short. Also, I placed her horns closer to the front of her head as I just think placing horns in that position looks cool.

Also, if you're wondering about the halo, I took some inspiration from a few of Caravaggio's paintings where he often depicts saints with this very thin halo around the top of their heads. I just liked that detail a lot so I thought I'd include it.

Fun fact, I was originally gonna make the four skeletons Chiyari, Biten, Enoko, and Hisami but I didn't like the prospect of having to draw four more characters, so I chose to replace them with skeletons (if you wanna get silly with it, Zanmu got Hisami to kidnap Aya, set up some skeletons with bones from her bone collection and told her to take a picture of her).

I kinda gave up on Zanmu's feet and the one skeleton's hands (as if drawing hands normally is hard enough but NOPE, HAD TO MAKE IT LIVING HELL FOR MYSELF BY MAKING IT A SKELETON) and the quality of the image may suffer because of how much I had to fucking compress it (Zanmu's presence alone was enough to make the computer lose all of it's desire and motivation to export the drawing of her lmao), but I have been hacking at this piece for a while now, plus I need to learn when to call it quits when it comes to drawings). Also as I was fixing up the hands there was one spot where I forgot to clean up with the sketch and I can't fucking unsee that now and it's going to fucking bother me until I fix it but fixing it requires going back and putting my computer through hell so yeah.

So yeah, that's about all I have to say with this drawing, it was fun but also a nightmare lol

#art #touhou project #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 19 #unfinished dream of all living ghost #zanmu nippaku #touhou #東方project #東方

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fatuismooches · 1 year ago

Note

Imagine Arlecchino being worried that her lover would be put off by her blackened hands, but then they just yank off any gloves Arlecchino might wear to hide them, and kisses her hands to assure her that they love them.

It had come to your attention that Arlecchino only wore gloves in your presence.

It was an average day, and you were at the orphanage again. The kids there liked when you went over to play with them. Today, you were reading them a story, a fairy tale that ended with the two characters falling in love. Soon enough, the children were asking non-filtered questions about if your relationship with Arlecchino was similar.

"Yes yes, Arlecchino and I are in a romantic relationship," you quickly eased their concerns, a bit embarrassed to be speaking about this.

"Is that why she smiles around you? She never does that," a child tilted their head at you.

"Well, sometimes love can make you do funny things. It brings unexpectedness into your life."

"She even dresses differently around you. That is a funny thing," another kid piped up and you looked at him curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"Father always wears gloves around you!" You raised your eyebrows, still unable to see why that was strange.

"So? She always wears gloves."

"That's not true," he shook his head. "Father never wears them around us, or the other Fatui, or around anyone else. She always wears them around you though." Your brain had a hard time processing this information, but you knew it was true since a bunch of kids wouldn't lie to you about something like this.

A lot of Fatui wore gloves, it was useful for the kind of dirty work they did, so you didn't think it was strange when Arlecchino wore gloves. But now you were incredibly confused and intrigued at why she felt the need to cover up her hands. And kind of stupid that you never noticed until now.

"Well, what do her hands look like without the gloves?" you questioned.

"Her hands are-" Before the child could finish, the familiar click-clack of heels echoed throughout the room. Immediately the children straightened up and quieted down at the sight of Arlecchino, and even your heart hammered a bit from the anticipation of the kid's answer.

"Good afternoon, Father," all the kids spoke at once, showing their respect, and she simply nodded her head at them. Her attention was mainly focused on you.

"I see you've been keeping them occupied, [Name]. Thank you." You smiled at your lover. Regardless of the whole glove situation, you were still happy to see her. "Would you care to join me for a walk now? I have just a bit of spare time," she held her hand out for you to take.

"Of course, Arlecchino. I'd love to," you placed your hand on her gloved one, the mere touch of it making you wonder once again what was under the fabric.

She intertwined her fingers with you. Gloved ones. And now more than ever you wanted to hold her bare hands, no gloves getting in the way of the skin-to-skin contact. You'd have to wait until the two of you were home and alone, however.

—

Thankfully it was one of the rare days when the two of you could have the luxury of falling asleep with each other. Even hours later, your mind raced with possibilities as to what she hid under those gloves. Scars? Burns? No matter what, you'd still love her. She was so beautiful to you regardless. But it seemed that you weren't so good at hiding your emotions on your face.

"[Name], are you alright?" you nearly jumped at Arlecchino's voice, not noticing her next to you.

"Oh! Well, I-, it's nothing really-" You glanced up at her face and you already knew that she wasn't going to buy that excuse. "Okay, fine... the truth is, I think we need to... talk." At that, the Knave was on guard, immediately needing to know what troubled her beloved.

"Tell me what plagues you, and I shall have it taken care of immediately," her eyes narrowed at you, fully intent on solving whatever issue this is, even if she had to... teach someone a lesson, right now, in the middle of the night.

You took a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself. "We need to talk about us."

"Us?" The Harbinger echoed. She was not expecting that. You nodded, and you reached for her two gloved hands, holding them in front of you two.

"This is..." you were unsure of how to voice your thoughts regarding the gloves. Your fingertips danced to the cloth around her own fingers, gently grasping it and-

You had barely been able to tug the long glove a little teensy down when Arlecchino swiftly grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements.

"What are you doing?" For how serious her voice sounded, you swore you could hear it waver for a split second.

"Arlecchino, I-I know you only wear gloves around me. I don't understand why... you know you do not need to hide yourself around me, right?"

Arlecchino closed her eyes, knowing that the jig was up, and appeared to think. "You may not like what you see. You may consider it... unattractive." Your heart broke a little bit.

"Oh Arlie," you sighed. "I would never think that, not ever. No matter what your hands may look like, I can assure you that I'll love them wholly, just like I do for the rest of you." She did not respond other than her thumb slowly rubbing circles on your entrapped palm.

"Please, may I see them? As your lover, the one you said has the sole privilege of seeing every part of you?" You reminded her tenderly. She opened her eyes once again, the ones everyone found terrifying but you loved.

"As you wish." She let go of the grip on your wrist and you were free to pull it off. And you did, in one fell swoop the glove fluttered to the floor. There laid Arlecchino's completely blackened hand, adorned with darker patterns and beautifully manicured nails.

Well, you certainly weren't expecting that. Arlecchino carefully gauged your expression, looking for any signs of repulse or discomfort. For once, she was worried if she had made a mistake, if you would be put off by her hands. But she didn't need to worry, as you found her hands completely alluring.

Without hesitation, you placed a kiss on the top of her hand, making Arlecchino stiffen at the sudden affection. But you did not stop there of course. You had a lot of area left to cover. Your kisses reached up past her elbow as your hand was loosely linked with hers, fingers massaging her palm. It was unexpectedly smooth.

"Your hands are so pretty. I don't see why you would ever hide them from me," you stated honestly. The other glove on her other hand received the same treatment - yanked off and discarded, and soon a victim to your ceaseless kisses, peppered up and down her arm. Arlecchino did not move or speak while you did this, her eyes remained trained on you like a hawk, taking in your every move. Taking in every motion of your lip, drinking in the passion in your eyes as you boldly looked at her as you continued your dauntless display of affection.

After your little stunt, you pulled away for a quick breather, but Arlecchino being Arlecchino, had to regain dominance of the situation again, and she briskly caught your chin with her hands, the one you daringly made your stake on. Before you could speak, she hungrily kissed you, her free hand pushing you down on the bed. She kissed you again and again, determined to make you feel the same things she just felt, her hand running up and down your arm. By the end of it, you were panting, but you felt triumphant. It was hard to change Arlecchino's mind, but you did it anyway.

"It seems like I've successfully proved that you're hands are quite lovely to me," you mentioned breathlessly.

"It seems you have," Arlecchino agreed with you, her usually blank expression had a sliver of softness, her thumb running over your lip. "Thank you." You smiled and gently grasped her wrist.

"So, no more gloves, right?" You asked teasingly. Arlecchino sighed at your tone but a small smile adorned her face as she kissed you once more.

"No more gloves, [Name]."

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino fluff #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino #arlecchino angst #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #not me rolling and squealing in my bed when i got this

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arcanefox207 · 5 months ago

Text

The Wolf You Feed (Part 3)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 6.2k

Part 3 / ? (Ongoing Series) (AO3) (Previous Chapters)

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50ish). Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. POV Switching. Series contains Angst and lots of Smut (to avoid chapter specific spoilers you can expect things such as but not limited to Unprotected PiV, Cream Pies, Oral, Masturbation, Dom!Joel, Subby reader, Pining, Infidelity, Edging)

A/N: Chapter 3 starts off VERY Angst heavy! The majority after that is full on smut with some plot development. I'd love to hear feedback on what you think of this chapter. It took me longer to write because I really wanted to nail the angst part so I challenged myself to really make that part hit some feels.

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated 🧡

[Joel POV]

Joel sits waiting with a scowl as Tess passes him and joins him across the booth. After a day or two they finally made plans to get together briefly at lunch to talk.

His scowl softens when he looks at her. His untouched cup of coffee sits between them like a mediator. She leaves her jacket on with no intention of being there long.

He comes out and says it. Calmly and softly.

“I can’t do this anymore.” His gaze faces downward and avoids her face.

“Do what?” Tess askes, acting puzzled by their conversation.

Joel gestures his finger pointing between the two of them. His face is solemn as his eyes reluctantly lock with hers.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Tess scoffs. She searches his eyes for more information but his stare is cold and serious.

“Whats got you so noble all of a sudden?” She teases, still not really believing him. He can see her working it out in her head.

Joel wants to tell her all about you, but he knows he can’t.

“Do what you want. I’m not your wife.”

Joel wants to believe that, but he knows her too well. He hasn’t had success with anyone else in a long time because he hasn’t really tried. Nothing serious, anyways. She knows he is loyal to her at the end of the day. Always has been and always will be. The permission to do whatever with whomever is just an illusion. It never had been challenged before and was just empty words.

Tess has always had a way to keep Joel on her leash. They were too comfortable with how things were. Their history was long and tumultuous but it was familiar. She had been there for him at his darkest times and he felt an obligation to her. One he had been content with fulfilling. The allure of familiarity was strong, but it was waning and Tess was too preoccupied to stop it.

“Tess, this thing we have isn’t working.” He pauses. “It hasn’t been working.” His words have more bite than he intended as they leave his mouth.

“This thing?” Her eyes narrow as she accentuates the word. “Joel, tell me what is really going on.”

The guilt was starting to get to him. It wasn’t fair to Tess and it wasn’t fair to you. It shouldn’t even be an issue, really. Joel’s conflict just further confirmed how entwined he was with Tess and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

It was no secret that Tess and Joel were a thing. They were both well respected and liked in town but also had a reputation for being intense if you crossed them. Everyone knew that Joel would break their jaw if they put their hands on Tess for any reason or gave her any trouble. He was her protector and her lover. Whichever one she needed. It was common knowledge that they were in a situationship. There was no romance, but they had an unspoken claim on each other.

“Whatever this is you are going through is fucking weird.” She waves her hand in front of her, mimicking his ambiguity. Her voice is a little more shaky than before, but still holding back any real emotion.

He looks down at his coffee. He can feel her gaze boring into him, searching for the source of this conversation. The shame is permeating from him like a stink he can’t wash off and she can smell it.

“So you’ve been fucking around with someone else?” She asks bluntly. Piecing it all together.

“I didn’t exactly go looking for it.” He says, coldly. Annoyed by her accusation that was by all counts correct.

“Jesus, Joel.” Her tone is filled with disgust more than anything.

“Don’t, Tess.” His words bite. “You’re never around. Don’t act like we are anything more than that.”

“Only when you want to get your dick wet.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Fuck you.”

Joel sits, silent. Biting his tongue and trying to keep his cool. He doesn’t want to admit it, but she is right. The one constant in his life the past few years has been Tess. They never were successful in making the leap to something legitimate. They were both too headstrong and too stubborn.

Oil and water.

Despite that, they had amazing sexual chemistry, when they made time for each other. Joel had stupidly suggested it might be practical if they moved in together, but she shot that down. Joel wanted some semblance of a relationship and her resistance to that started driving a wedge between them. Things only got more toxic and strained between them after that. Their interactions had been slowly reduced to just the occasional fuck after drinking at the bar and a whole lot of arguing.

Then you came along. The catalyst that made him question why he was just staying complacent with Tess and how sustainable that really was going to be. You did it all without realizing it.

“I don’t have time to play games, Joel.”

“Tess…” He stares at her. “I ain’t playing.” The words come out firmly through gritted teeth and his balled up fist slams on the table making the contents on the surface rattle.

As much as Tess could be intimidating, it was nothing compared to a worked up Joel Miller. She scoots out from the booth and stands up in a huff, clearly over this conversation.

“When you’re done having your fun, don’t come looking for me.”

Her prickly demeanor tears away at his resolve. He doesn’t want to lose Tess, but he doesn’t know how to quit her either. She knows it, too. Dangling her threat in front of him to keep him on the hook. Daring him to eat his words.

Joel feels stricken with panic. His temper cools and is replaced with regret. All he had done was piss her off and work himself up. He was finally saying the words out loud that they both had been avoiding for too long, but he was too afraid to commit and make things final.

He reaches his arm out like a reflex and grabs her arm as she passes. Their eyes lock in a standoff. Tess has a fire in her eyes but behind that he can see the hurt lurking. He relaxes his grip now that he has her attention and looks away, ashamed. His hand drags down her arm slowly. Tender and apologetic.

“Will I see you Friday night?”

Coward. He hates himself as soon as those words leave his mouth. Why couldn’t he just let her walk away?

“Yeah. Sure.” She conceals the slightest smirk from his sight as she pulls her arm free and keeps walking toward the door.

Later that night after Joel returns home he has nothing left to distract him. He had worked as late as he could. He had a liquid dinner of whiskey.

After he showered he got into some sweatpants and a simple cotton tshirt and scrolled mindlessly through the channels. He settled on a mediocre action movie that was halfway over and just let it fill the background noise.

His mind is on overdrive rehashing the conversation with Tess over and over. Regretting not just letting her go. It was easier to imagine doing that when it wasn’t the heat of the moment. He was so close but he knew she wouldn’t make it easy for him. He knew better than to let himself get wound up too and put her on the defensive. He never wanted to hurt Tess even if he was fed up with her.

He had no intention of continuing his charades with her and didn’t want to lead her on, but he couldn’t let it end like that. They had too much history. She had been too important to Joel since they met in Boston. He didn’t want to lose what they had, but it was becoming more and more clear that it had been gone for a long time. He still had to try.

He hated feeling so ambivalent.

“Damn it, Tess.” He says out loud to himself as he leans forward over his knees with his hands clasped between them. He slams his whiskey glass down on the table in front of him.

His body is too tense and agitated. He stands up and paces past the front window. His eyes catch the light of your home and he feels a different kind of heat take over. His frustration was looking for any way to escape. He could already feel himself getting hard thinking about fucking you again. A combination of desire for you and aggravation that his situationship with Tess was going to stifle this new flame.

He braces against the wall and palms himself over his pants with deep, labored strokes. He reaches his hand inside and continues. His cock is begging for your touch.

Your touch.

It all seemed so clear to him at this moment. You were exactly what he needed. What he wanted. In the short time he had come to know you one thing was certain. Being around you made him feel good.

He withdraws his hand with a pained restraint and instead picks up his phone.

Joel needs to see you. He sends you a text.

[Reader POV]

Joel: Come over?

No preamble. No context. You read the message and then read it again.

You: Sure

There is nothing you’d like more. You want to tell him that, but you keep it short and sweet.

It was already getting late but you didn’t want to question it too much. It’s not like you were doing anything important anyways. You had already made a deal with yourself to let things cool off a little so that you didn’t come off desperate with how badly he made you want him.

This unexpected late night invitation was very much welcomed. Whatever reason Joel had to invite you over, you were ready to find out.

You throw on a pair of jeans, grab your jacket and head over on foot. The cool air is soothing. It helps calm you down as you can feel your heart racing the closer you get. His home was becoming more and more familiar to you. It was hard not to pass it everyday and want to be back inside and wonder what he was up to. Joel was becoming more and more familiar. You had never felt so enamored with a guy before. Much less someone like Joel and especially not someone old enough to be your dad. You knew so little about him, too. Something you plan to remedy when you are not being dickmatized.

He answers the door as you approach it and you step in, scuffing your boots to kick off the snow. You notice how dimly lit the place is with only the light from his TV and the wood stove burning low. A single light in the kitchen above the sink where you first got to experience his touch.

You turn to face him as he closes the door. He looks on edge.

He takes a step towards you and grabs your chin, directing you to look up at him. His eyes are dark and his energy is agitated. Hungry. Lustful. Something is off but you can’t quite place it. You infer that his silence means he didn’t invite you over to chat so you don’t pry. Shoot first and ask questions later was becoming the status quo.

He brushes his thumb across your lip and parts your mouth open slightly. It makes you melt inside as you confirm this invitation was for all the reasons you had hoped. You give him a sultry smirk and tease the tip of his thumb with your tongue.

No words are spoken as he closes the gap and shoves his tongue in your mouth. He presses into you and turns you to swap positions so he can pin you against the door. You can feel the heat of his cock against you as he devours you with his mouth and grinds into you. You can smell the lingering whiskey on his breath while you make out.

His hands pull your jacket off your shoulders and it falls to the ground. You kick your boots off and let them join the mess of clothing starting to gather at your feet. He pulls your shirt over your head and struggles to undo your bra while his body rocks into you; crowding you in. He is careful not to lose contact with you for long. His mouth roams to your neck and collarbone as you reach your hands down to unbutton your jeans. The cruel barrier between you does little to conceal his hardening cock, poking into you as you struggle to unzip and free yourself from your jeans.

Your bare back against the door is cold and sends goosebumps through your skin. His hand brushes over your hardening nipple and it sends him in a frenzy that stops you in your tracks as he becomes preoccupied with your hardening buds.

He hooks his hands under your thighs to hoist you up higher for easier access. You straddle him to help hold yourself up. He maneuvers you so effortlessly. His biceps bulge tightly through the arms of his tshirt as he uses his strength to pin you firmly between him and the door while he ravages your tits.

Your hands grip into his shoulders and he leans in to take your nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls and teases as you become harder and more sensitive.

He is rough and needy. A moan escapes your lips as he sucks hard and flicks you with his tongue before switching over to the other side and does it all over again. He is getting increasingly forceful.

It’s almost too rough and borders hurting but his unhinged desire to take what he wants in the moment makes you feel euphoric. You want to be at his mercy.

A bite catches you off guard and you and you gasp as he nips at you again with more restraint. He pulls back to control himself, panting and realizing he might be getting too intense.

He lowers you gently back to your feet and holds your hips firmly. He leans into your ear and his words come out deep and commanding.

“Bedroom.”

He leads you hastily through the living room to a room you had not been in before. It smells masculine and clean with a woodsy veil lingering from the wood stove. He has dark blue bedding and decor against beautiful rustic, knotty pine walls. It feels comfortable and distinctly Joel. A rush of excitement surges through you. Being in his bedroom. Standing at the foot of his bed.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you and mouths your jawline and collar. It doesn’t take long before he is getting carried away again leaving playful bites on your tender skin. You relish it and welcome being branded by him. You’ve never been with someone so rough and dominant and you find yourself craving this side of Joel. Your body aches for his touch.

One of his hands is forcefully grabbing your breast and the other he slides down your belly and dips inside your panties. You are embarrassingly aroused already and he feels how wet you are as he grazes over your underwear. He curls two of his fingers under the damp fabric and lets out a low growl as he presses them over your swollen clit and gets them wet at your entrance. His fingers are so thick. He gently works his two fingers in and out of you over and over again while his thumb teases your clit. While he is stretching you out he bites at the crook of your neck and earlobe. His cock poking into you and begging for friction as he grinds it into you.

You can feel him everywhere on your body. All your senses are flooded by his presence. His scent. His heat. His touch.

He slides his hand up and hooks his fingers on your waistband and tugs them down. You help shimmy out of them and bend over to let them drop to the floor. With one more layer removed you press back into him as you rise back up and feel his hard cock against your ass. You seize the opportunity to tease him back by rubbing up against him. You can feel his cock swelling against you and you let out a needy moan to further tempt him while you slowly rise back up. You want him inside you so badly and you can feel how badly he wants it too.

“Easy,” he says sternly as his hands find a grip on your hips while you push back into him again. You hear a raspy moan catch in his throat.

“Don’t.” He threatens while he grips you harder and keeps you still. That dangerous side shows itself and it makes you equally turned on as you are intimidated. You listen.

He removes his other hand from your breast and slides it up around the front of your neck and gently around your throat. He tilts your head back and cups your jawline as he presses a needy kiss into you and turns you around to face him.

Joel pushes you down gently onto your back. His bed is messy and unkempt and smells like him. He stands at the foot of the bed and pulls his shirt off. His shoulder frame is so wide and his tapered waist teases you with his happy trail spilling out from his pants that are straining to hold him in. He leaves them and seems to ignore his own arousal for a moment to turn his entire focus on you. He drinks in your naked body laid bare before him and bites his lip back with a crooked smile. He has already made a mess of you and he can see how needy you are for him. Keeping his cock hidden seems cruel but you aren’t even sure if you could handle much more of his body at this moment.

He crawls onto the bed on all fours and situates himself in between your legs. The mattress sinks slightly under his weight as he settles between your legs with his arms holding him up on each side of you. His scruff scrapes the soft skin of your inner thigh as he lowers his head down and it sends a shiver through you. He presses his mouth to the crease at the top of your leg and places a gentle kiss as he moves in closer to your center.

His movements are slow and deliberate and he is teasing you with anticipation. His eyes lock onto yours. They are blown out and mad with desire. Dangerously hungry.

“Need to taste you.” He groans and snakes his hands under and around your legs and drags you closer to him, never breaking eye contact. His hands splay over your lower belly and he dives in. Your head tilts back as you stare up at the ceiling and breathe sharply. Your body is floating in pure ecstasy.

His focus is now entirely on eating you out. He flattens his tongue and licks you up to your clit again and again. You are getting wetter and wetter. He goes at a painfully slow pace and savors your taste. The sensation is intoxicating. He works his tongue with such precision.

Moans escape your lips and your body writhes under his expert tongue. Your back arches up as he dips further into you. His nose teases your clit while he stretches his tongue inside you. His damp beard scrapes against you as he moves his head, tantalizing your skin.

Your hands scramble to grab his tousled hair between your legs and you latch onto him and look down to steal a glance while he works. He is so handsome and skilled it doesn’t feel real. You can’t shake the feeling that you are waiting for the other shoe to drop, but at this moment you don’t even care.

His broadness let him take up so much space and spread you so wide open for him. His shoulders crest as he maneuvers himself deeper and you can see his beading sweat. He is so focused on making you feel good. Making you feel desired while he is genuinely enjoying every moment of it.

You lay your head back again and your vision starts to fade out as the sensation becomes overpowering. His tongue is relentless, exploring your folds and discovering all the right spots that drive you wild. Your hands tangle in his silver streaked hair and you are certain it has to be hurting him with how hard you are pulling. He does not seem to be fazed in the slightest and only responds with more vigor the harder you pull.

“Joel. I’m gonna..”

He interrupts you by sharply pushing you down against the mattress so you can’t squirm anymore.

“Not yet.” He commands, his eyes staying focused on your cunt while he speaks. “I’m not done with you.”

He doubles down on his movements to further push your limits. His whole face is buried in you. Pleasuring your most tender parts with a passionate hunger. Savoring your sweetness.

You writhe under him. His words invigorate you as you grasp onto anything that might help you hold on. His hair. The bed sheets. The comforter balled up around you. He doesn’t seem to mind that your legs are nearly strangling him. You doubt he can even feel it. He is so much bigger and stronger than you.

He sends you over the edge when he takes your swollen clit between his lips and sucks hard while he swirls it with his tongue.

You moan as your orgasm washes over you and he goes into a frenzy lapping at you, moaning as he takes all of you in. You have never come so hard before and he is drinking every bit of you. Reaping the benefits of his handiwork.

You are both panting to catch your breath and enjoy a calm moment as you come down from your high. You look down at him still placed between your legs. He groans as he stiffly adjusts his arms to prop himself up. One of the few moments that reminds you he is damn near 50 years old, and you are surprised to find it so endearing.

“Holy Fuck, Joel.” you say almost giddy and rest your arm across your forehead and breathe deep. No one has ever pleasured you like Joel Miller and you are pretty sure he knows it.

His face is shiny and wet from your release and his beard is covered in your slick. He looks feral and depraved as he drags the back of his hand across his face to wipe off your mess but it only smears it more. He licks his bottom lip, and seems pleased to wear your mess like a badge of honor. He was being such a nasty man, but you liked him nasty.

He backs up off the bed and reluctantly stands up. His cock is begging to be touched and let free. He catches the needy way you look at.

“Not yet, baby.” He slides his hand under his waistband and you can see him stroke his length and groan slightly as he slides his pants down. He jerks on it a few more times and you can see it leaking at the tip. It's fat and ready to burst. You can feel your body pulsing, begging to have him inside you.

“I want more of that pussy first.”

He slips out of his pants completely and then returns to his place on the bed, between your legs. He forces them open with his head. It’s playful but also devious. You didn’t realize how tightly you were holding your legs together until he charged in.

“Joel!” You whine.

He ignores you and places a rogue kiss on your abdomen and then resumes fucking you with his tongue. He uses his thumbs to spread your folds open so he can get in deep. You whimper as the pressure on you and inside you builds. You are wet again in no time and he relishes every molecule that coats his tongue.

He leans into you and pushes your legs back into your chest and laps at you with this new leverage. You can hear him moaning in delight.

“Joel…” You say his name again, louder, trying to get his attention. You are overstimulated and he doesn’t stop. Not that you actually want him to stop, but you do want him to know you are coming undone.

The second wave of pleasure starts to build. You are swollen and begging for his touch. Begging for him to fill you. As good as his tongue feels, you need to feel more of him. Making you beg for his cock turns him on too. He relishes your needy pleas and edges you even more.

He gets you good and wet and reluctantly pulls away from you and sits up. One hand presses your leg open while the other hand zeroes in on your opening. He dips a finger in and immediately adds another as he fucks you with his thick fingers, twisting them inside you. He wastes no time. Much rougher than earlier. He does it just long enough to get them dripping and feel you clench around him. You let out a whimper as he scissors his fingers and then cruelly pulls out of you, leaving you empty.

He wasn’t being so nice anymore. His movements were more urgent and practical. He had neglected his swollen cock for long enough.

His wet hand glides over his shaft while he stares at you.

“You’re being so good.” he praises. His veiny cock glistening in your slick.

“Gonna fuck you now, Sweetheart.”

He kneels on the bed and leans forward to pull you up. Your legs dangle loosely as he pulls you to your knees and spreads your legs to straddle him in his lap. His weighty cock is between your bodies. He notches it at your entrance and grabs it firmly at the base and pumps it before he guides the head into you.

Even though you are soaked and he just fingered you it is still a stretch your body isn’t quite ready for. His slicked up, swollen head splits you open and you feel a searing burn as your walls strain to fit him.

He lets out a grunt as he pushes it in further and locks his hands on your hips. You gasp as he pulls you all the way down to his base and holds you there for a moment. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your head to his chest while your mouth gapes open and you moan. You were not expecting him to fill you with his full length so quickly. He was a lot to take.

He leans back away from you just far enough to catch your eyes and check in on you. You feel his cock twitch inside you while he is admiring how fucked out you look.

Your bodies come together again and he grabs you hard. He thrusts up into you and pulls you down on his cock hard as he fucks you. His arms tangle around you as his pace quickens. Your nails claw into his back as you try to desperately grab onto something.

He snarls and nips at your collar as he fucks you relentlessly. He starts to come undone. His undulating thrusts turn chaotic. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, ready to unload.

You want him to fill you to the brim with his come but you don’t have the capacity to form coherent words. You try anyway holding yourself even tighter against him and moaning. Pleading with your touch. You hadn’t found the appropriate moment to tell him oh, by the way I have an IUD and doing it while being fucked senseless was incredibly difficult.

Your muscles are going weaker by the second but he picks up on your attempts. Joel was incredibly tuned into you. As if he needed another reason to be so attractive.

“Where, baby?” He slows his pace but just slightly. He urges you to reply by placing one of his hands on the side of your face and holding you up to look at him. You can tell from his tone that he is on the brink.

“In… inside.” You manage to get it out. You catch the way the corner of his mouth pulls up slightly while his eyes narrow over his nose. It was exactly what he was hoping to hear. He thumbs over your jawline and then brings his hand back down to your hips.

Joel grunts loud as he thrusts into you while he pulls you down on him. Rough and violent in his movements. His cock kisses your deepest parts and you scream out his name and claw into him. His moan sends you over the edge and your muscles convulse as your release escapes you.

He can feel your walls choking his cock while you come. It sets his own climax in motion and he loses control, bucking into you frantically while he snarls. You can feel his hot ropes of come fill you as his cock pulses. He thrusts up into you with a labored exhale as he empties himself inside you.

Having him fill you with his spend feels so cathartic. For both of you, you imagine, judging by his calmer demeanor. You share a peaceful moment together entangled and panting. Hot and sticky sweat beading between your bodies. The smell of sex and burning wood.

He presses his forehead into yours and leads you down gently back onto the mattress. His come leaks out of you as he pulls out with a groan. He was already taking up any available space before he poured into you. You mourn its loss as it drips out of your cunt.

He presses a kiss to your forehead and drops to his side, next to you. His arm drapes over your midsection and he turns you on your side. He pulls you close so your back is flush against the front of his body. His wet and softening cock nestles at the curve of your ass.

You can feel his heartbeat with heavy thuds starting to slow. He traces his hand along your side and gently rubs your skin. It makes you shiver. Your sides are sore from being held so tightly but his touch now is soft and gentle. Soothing.

Joel was intense in bed, but it never made you feel like you were in any sort of danger. He was certainly capable of harming you but you trusted him. He pushed your limits in all the right ways. On the outside he was rough and dominant, but you were starting to see that deep inside he knew how to be gentle too. He had another side of him that he was content to share with you in these moments.

He made you feel safe. Like he would protect you from anything.

“Joel?” You call for his attention, almost sheepish.

“Mmm?” He mumbles, raspy. From the sounds of it he was nearly passed out.

You roll onto your other side so you are facing him now. His hand snakes over your ass and he rubs you.

“You fuck good for an old man.”

He bites inside his cheek to hold back a smile and shakes his head.

“Watch it.” He threatens, but in a joking tone. He pulls your head into his chest and scoffs. You liked teasing him about his age.

You smile to yourself and bury your face in his chest as he holds you tighter.

You wake up to the sound of heavy boots clunking on the wood floor. You slowly blink your eyes open and then jolt up when you realize you are not at home. You look to your right and the spot on the bed is empty with blankets haphazardly tossed aside. You are in an unfamiliar bed, naked and your body is sore.

Your brain slowly wakes up as you remember Joel inviting you over late last night. You didn’t mean to fall asleep in his bed. He had fucked you silly and it is not at all surprising that you slept like a baby. He wore out your body and the last thing you remember was being held by him and listening to his rhythmic breath as you dozed off together.

Your eyes searched the room for your clothes but half of them were still out by the front door.

You see his olive green and orange plaid flannel draped over his dresser. You snatch it and put it on. It floats on you but feels so soft and comforting. The arms are so much longer and it hangs over you frumpy. It smells worn but you like being in his stink. You button just a few to hold it on you. It barely covers your ass but it does a good enough job.

You push the bedroom door open and wince as you see the sun is just peaking through the treeline. A stark contrast to the room you woke up in. The reflection on the ice covered lake is bright and blinding. After your eyes adjust you can really take in what a beautiful morning it is.

“Morning.” Joel greets you. He is standing over in the kitchen holding a coffee carafe and pouring it into his thermos. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

He looked so handsome. Fresh with his hair wet and slicked back. He cleaned up well and looked like an entirely different man from the night before. More put together anyways. More peaceful too. It reminded you of the first morning you met him.

He was dressed for work and had on a few layers from head to toe. It made you feel foolish to still be so exposed. He did not seem to mind one bit.

He looks you up and down and he bites his lip while he tilts his head slightly and stares.

“Mmm. Like you in my shirt.” He almost growls it at you.

You smile shyly and stand across from him at the island.

“I like it too. I might have to keep it.” You tease.

You notice a coffee mug already prepared next to him. His big hand claws it on the top and he slides it over towards you.

“Figured you’d want this.”

“I sure do.” You pick up the mug with both hands and breathe in the sweet aroma. He had apparently paid attention enough to know that you like your coffee with cream and sugar. Another bonus point for attentiveness.

“I got an early job today and I have to go. Stay as long as you need.” His offer was generous.

He twists the lid onto his thermos and grabs a bag with some tools and blueprints. He slings it over his shoulder and walks around the other side to stand next to you.

He reaches his free hand out and gently pushes your messy hair behind your ear. He slowly drags his hand to your jaw and tenderly caresses you with his thumb.

“See you later, sweetheart.” You melt inside.

And then he was gone.

You collect your things and quickly dress yourself properly. Your daily work alarm goes off on your phone while you are lacing up your boots. Just enough time to go home and shower and get ready for work.

As you are about to head out a devious thought compels you to snatch the flannel. He won’t even miss it. He has plenty.

As you close the door behind you you take a deep breath. The sun is warm on your face and the air is crisp and refreshing. Your senses are invigorated and your energy is bright and vibrant. The realization hits you as you start across the street.

You are falling hard for Joel Miller.

Part 4!

Thank you to my dear friends who beta'd for me @magpiepills and @legendary-pink-dot 🧡 ILY

Love to the rest of my sluts who support my creative shenanigans and give me life @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @for-a-longlongtime

@youandmeand5bucks @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen

Inspo Tags for some of my favorite Joel fic writers that have inspired me in so many ways with their amazing, talented writings (Please give them all your love! Im sure you are already familiar with them) @toxicanonymity @swiftispunk @hier--soir @atticrissfinch @bageldaddy

Tag List - If you want to be added please leave a comment! You can also follow my Update blog at @ArcaneFoxFics but I realize the traditional tag list is still a preference so this is an option too 🧡

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#Joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #Joel miller smut #Pedro pascal #the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fandom #the wolf you feed #arcanefox fics #dom!joel miller #Pedro pascal characters #Joel miller angst #joel miller au #the Joel shirt

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your-averagewriter · 1 year ago

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Imagine the Spiderverse characters meeting Miguel's assistant

Including: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar Miguel O'Hara, Peter B. Parker

Miles Morales - Miles is taken to meet Miguel and he was warned of his cold exterior but he wasn't warned about Miguel's assistant and her bubbly persona. You walk in and instantly his eyes are diverted from Miguel to you as you introduce yourself. You smile at the group and apologise for Miguel's bad mood as well as shaking Miles' hand upon meeting him and he swears he'll never wash that hand. Now he definitely wants to joining the Spider Society if he gets to see you everyday, after a while he comes back to see you asking you cute little questions and using bad pick up lines.

Gwen Stacy - Gwen also meets you when meeting with Miguel except it's not in his office, it's when she is 'enlisted' to the Spider Society. You saved her from the anomaly and whilst you did, she couldn't tear her eyes off of you and didn't snap out of it until Miguel was shouting at her to help. Afterwards, every time she saw Miguel, you'd be near (as his assistant) and she'd make up excuses to get to talk to you despite her awkward exterior. This includes 'bumping' into you when you go to lunch as she knows your schedule and checking with Miguel for the smallest of things.

Hobie Brown - You were actually the one who spoke to Hobie first at the Spider Society. Lots of people were put off by his 'extreme' exterior but you just thought he looked cool and naturally you wanted to tell him. Hobie was slightly confused by the small woman walking up to him and when you started complimenting his punk pins he was even more confused but also intrigued. He found out you liked similar music to him despite you're 'normal-looking' attire and he basically fell in love with you: the cute girl who liked punk music.

Pavitr Prabhakar - Pavitr was a relatively new Spiderman and was struggling to get to grips with certain skills so Miguel assigned you to helping him as you were of similar age. As soon as Pavitr saw you walk out from the portal in your Spider suit he was hooked and when he saw you take off your mask? He was even more hooked, sticking to your side throughout missions less for the safety aspect but more for the closeness and even after you've finished the short mentor programme with him he still hangs around you at the Spider Society not that you minded. You were perfectly happy having the puppy like boy following you around, keeping you company.

Miguel O'Hara - Miguel had a habit of scaring off every assistant assigned to him but that stopped entirely when you were hired. He expected you to be the same, nervous girl he always gets assigned but when you walked in you brought a couple of empanadas with you (not knowing his obsession with the food) which immediately gave him a good impression of you. After days of you working for him, his harsh stares became softer just for you and he understood the reactions you received from other Spider people that came to meet him. Afterall even he couldn't resist you're cute smile and friendly persona.

Peter B. Parker - When Peter met you he didn't know that you were Miguel's assistant but that probably only made him like you even more. You met when he bumped into you, after all he's not the most self aware of Spidermen. He was surprised to see such a unique Spiderperson as when everyone's wearing the same suit it's hard to stick out but you're kindness and friendliness really melted his heart. He, like Gwen, would make excuses to come and see you, his friendship with Miguel making it easier to come up with things. It's always "I need to show Miguel this new food from the canteen" or "I need to tell Miguel something I remembered about Miles" although he always means "I just wanna see (y/n)" and Miguel always knows.

AN: I thought I'd try this new format. If you guys would like more fanfics with this format then let me know as I really enjoyed writing this!

I hope you enjoyed reading!

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bowtiepastabitch · 1 year ago

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Historical Analysis: class and injustice in 'The Ressurrectionists' minisode

Alternate title: why we're tempted to be upset with Aziraphale and why that's only halfway fair

Okay so first off huge thanks to @makewayforbigcrossducks for asking the question (and follow-up questions lol) that brought me to put these thoughts all together into a little history nerd ramble. That question being, Why is Aziraphale so clueless? Obviously, from a plot perspective, we know we need to learn some lessons about human moral dilemmas and injustices. But from a character perspective? A lot of this minisode is about Aziraphale being forced to confront the flaws of heavenly logic. This whole idea that "poverty is ineffable" basically boils down to 'yeah some people are poor, but their souls can be saved just as if not more easily that way, so it's not our problem and they probably deserve it anyway for not working hard enough,' a perspective that persists in many modern religious circles. Aziraphale isn't looking at the human factor here, he's pretty much purely concerned about the dichotomy of good and wicked human behavior and the spiritual consequences thereof, because that's what he's been told to believe. His whole goal is to "show her the error of her ways." He believes, quite wholeheartedly, that he's helping her in the long run.

"the lower you start, the more opportunities you have"

So here's what we're asking ourselves: Why did it take him so bloody long to realize how stupid that is? Sure, he's willing to excuse all kinds of things in the name of ineffability, but if someone in the year of our lord 2023 told me he was just now realizing that homelessness was bad after experiencing the past two centuries, I'd be resisting the urge to get violent even if he WAS played by Michael Sheen.

Historical context: a new type of poverty

Prior to the 19th century (1800s), poverty was a very different animal from what we deal with now. The lowest classes went through a dynamic change leading up to the industrial revolution, with proto-industrialization already moving people into more manufacture-focused tasks and rapid urbanization as a result of increasingly unlivable conditions for rural peasantry. The enclosure of common lands and tennancies by wealthy landowners for the more profitable sheep raising displaced lots of families, and in combination with poor harvests and rising rents, many people were driven to cities to seek out new ways of eeking out a living.

Before this, your ability to eat largely would have depended on the harvest in your local area. This can, for our purposes, be read as: you're really only a miracle away from being able to survive the winter. Juxtapose this, then, with the relatively new conundrum of an unhoused urban poor population. Now if you want to eat, you need money itself, no exceptions, unless you want to steal food. Charity at the time was often just as much harm as good, nearly always tied deeply up in religious attitudes and a stronger desire to proselytize than improve quality of lie. As a young woman, finding work in a city is going to be incredibly difficult, especially if you're not clean and proper enough to present as a housemaid or other service laborer. As such, Elspeth turns to body snatching to try to make a better life for herself and Wee Morag. She's out of options and she knows it.

You know who doesn't know that? Aziraphale.

The rise of capitalism

The biggest piece of the puzzle which Aziraphale is missing here is that he hasn't quite caught onto the concept of capitalism yet. To him, human professions are just silly little tasks, and she should be able to support herself if she just tried. Bookselling, weaving, farming, these are all just things humans do, in his mind. He suggests these things as options because it hasn't occurred to him yet that Elspeth is doing this out of desperation, but he also just doesn't grasp the concept of capital. Crowley does, he thinks it's hilarious, but Aziraphale is just confused as to why these occupations aren't genuine options. Farming in particular, as briefly touched on above, was formerly carried out largely on common land, tennancies, or on family plots, and land-as-capital is an emerging concept in this period of time (previously, landowners acted more like local lords than modern landlords). Aziraphale just isn't picking up on the fact that money itself is the root issue.

Even when he realizes that he fucked up by soup-ifying the corpse, he doesn't offer to give them money but rather to help dig up another body. He still isn't processing the systemic issues at play (poverty) merely what's been immediately presented to him (corpses), and this is, from my perspective, half a result of his tunnel-vision on morality and half of his inability to process this new mode of human suffering.

Half a conclusion and other thoughts

So we bring ourselves back around to the question of Aziraphale's cluelessness. Aziraphale is, as an individual, consistently behind on the times. He likes doing things a certain way and rarely changes his methodology unless someone forces his hand. Even with the best intentions, his ability to help in this minisode is hindered by two points: 1)his continued adherance to heavenly dogma 2)his inability to process the changing nature of human society. His strongest desire at any point is to ensure that good is carried out, an objective good as defined by heavenly values, and while I think it's one of his biggest character hangups, I also can't totally blame him for clinging to the only identity given to him or for worrying about something that is, as an ethereal being, a very real concern. Unfortunately, he also lacks an understanding of the actual human needs that present themselves. Where Elspeth knows that what she needs is money, Aziraphale doesn't seem to process that money is the only solution to the immediate problem. This is in part probably because a century prior the needs of the poor were much simpler, and thus miraculous assistance would never have interfered with 'the virtues of poverty'. (You can make someone's crops grow, and they'll eat well, but giving someone money actually changes their economic status.) Thus, his actions in this episode illustrate the intersection of heavenly guidelines with a weak understanding of modern structures.

This especially makes sense with his response to being told to give her money. Our angel is many things, but I would never peg him as having any attachment to his money. He's not hesitant because he doesn't want to part with it, he's hesitant because he's still scared it's the wrong thing to do in this scenario. He really is trying to be good and helpful. So yes, we're justifiably pretty miffed to see him so blatantly unaware and damaging. He definitely holds a lot of responsibility for the genuine tragedy of this minisode, and I think Crowley pointing out that it's 'different when you knew them' is an extremely important moment for Aziraphale's relationship with humanity. Up until now, he's done a pretty good job insulating himself from the capacity of humans for nastiness, his seeming naivity at the Bastille being case in point.

In the end, I think Aziraphale's role in this minisode is incredibly complex, especially within its historical context. He's obstinate and clueless but also deeply concerned with spiritual wellbeing (which is, to Aziraphale, simply wellbeing) and doing the right thing to be helpful. While it's easy to allow tiny Crowley (my beloved) to eclipse the tragic nature and moral complexity of this minisode, I think in the end it's just as important to long-term character development as 'A Companion to Owls'. We saw him make the right choice with Job's children, and now we see him make the wrong choice. And that's a thing people do sometimes, a thing humans do.

~~~

also tagging @ineffabildaddy, @kimberellaroo, and @raining-stars-somewhere-else whose comments on the original post were invaluable in helping me organize my thoughts and feelings about this topic. They also provided great insight that, in my opinion, is worth going and reading for yourself, even if it didn't factor into my final analysis/judgement.

If I missed anything or you have additional thoughts, please please share!!! <3

#this was a monster of a post to write #in no small part because I was relying more on my own historical knowledge than usual so I had to double check myself constantly #but I had a lot of fun and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens analysis #good omens meta #the resurrectionists #good omens season 2 #good omens minisode #nerd shit #ineffable husbands #aziraphale good omens

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reiderwriter · 11 months ago

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Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3

I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.

The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)

I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">

A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!

Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI

It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.

You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.

You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.

You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.

You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.

JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.

He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.

“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.

He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.

“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.

“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”

“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”

Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.

“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”

“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”

“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.

“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.

–X–

After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.

Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.

You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.

The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.

You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.

“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.

Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.

You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.

“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.

More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.

You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.

“Spencer! What's… what are…”

“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”

You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.

“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”

His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.

“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”

“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”

His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.

His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.

“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”

His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.

You didn't.

Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.

Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.

He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.

He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.

You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.

It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.

The next one was harder though. It was real.

“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.

“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”

His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.

The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.

You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.

You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.

“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.

It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.

It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.

He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.

“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.

“Y-Yes, Spencer.”

“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.

“Yes, sir.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”

With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.

With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.

With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.

It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.

You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.

His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.

You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.

Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.

And most importantly, he didn't stop.

Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.

“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.

“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”

“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.

“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”

“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”

Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.

But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.

“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”

“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”

He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.

“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.

When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.

After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.

He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.

“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”

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