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ace-of-zaun · 2 years

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The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time: pt. 3

Silco x f!reader - SFW

CW: threat/injury detail, swears, rude customers, ANGST, trust issues, self-doubt/ruminating, fluff, soft things and feelings?? in my ‘just for fun’ fic??

6.1k words

Summary: After your reluctant departure from The Last Drop, you’re delighted to gain a new regular at your market stall. But you might have bitten off more than you can chew when you find yourself getting inexplicably closer to the Eye of Zaun.

A/N: oh no. I’m back again. And this fic is getting dafter by the minute. Also, I am sorry to this man for making him such a reader simp. But, it’s true, he would be absolutely crazy about you. Okay, much love to you all, -elsie x

The second time you met the King of the Undercity, you were working your job at the market stall. Well, working may have been an overstatement. You were actually seeing how many blueberries you could successfully chuck into your boss’ open mouth, as he snored loudly from the other end of the table.

It had been a slow work day to say the least, and your boss had been asleep for the majority of it, so you didn’t feel bad about terrorising him for your own entertainment. Although, you should feel bad, considering he’d been kind enough to give you your job back after going AWOL for three days straight.

Of course, you didn’t tell him what had really happened to you. No-one was going to believe that you’d been wrongly kidnapped and bound to a chair by two idiotic gang members. I mean, come on, we’ve all used that excuse before, it’s the oldest trick in the book. And only a fool would believe you’d then been carried to safety by none other than the King of Zaun, and been allowed to take shelter in his home whilst he dealt with the threat.

Instead, you’d told your boss that you were sick and miraculously, he’d believed you. Just like that. No questions asked. …You felt like a god.

Whatever medicine Silco’s doctor had given you after you’d passed out in the warehouse had worked a treat because you’d barely felt any pain from it since (except of course from your initial headache after waking up). You wondered if you could get a hold of some of it to keep in your cupboard at home, for when you inevitably stub your toe on the doorframe for the umpteenth time this month.

You’d just thrown another blueberry, that had missed your boss’ mouth but had rather amusingly fallen down into his shirt, no doubt creating a sticky mess against his skin, when you heard someone clear their throat from behind you. As you turn, it takes mere seconds for you to put on your ‘customer service face’ which consisted of the most sickly-sweet smile you could conjure up, paired with a gaze that could only be described as ‘dead-behind-the-eyes’.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” you begin, the phrase you’ve said so many times at this point, you’re certain it’ll be etched onto your gravestone, alongside a drawing of you wearing your work apron and a clown wig.

You almost do a full-on comedy sitcom double take when you see him.

Silco. The Silco. At your market stall. …The heck?

He’s stood on the other side of the table wearing his signature ensemble (that fits him so damn well), his hair is slicked back in its usual style, and his arms are folded behind him. And those sharp, bewitching eyes, that you were much too enticed by to ever be truly afraid of, are looking directly at you. Honestly, the nerve of this man. How dare he look this good on a Wednesday afternoon??

You fight the urge to say: ‘well, if it isn’t Old Silky himself’ and instead gape at him wide-eyed, as if you were one of the fish on the market stall opposite yours.

“Good afternoon, my dear. I’m wondering if you could assist me with a purchase today,” he informs you smoothly, a playful smirk dancing on his scarred lips.

Ah. So this is the game you were playing. Truth be told, you’d missed this. It had been less than a week since you’d left him at The Last Drop, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t spent most of that time trying to figure out a reasonable way back to him. Seems like he’d solved your problem for you.

Your face morphs into a wide grin and you put on the most exaggerated voice you can muster in your new character of ‘employee of the month’.

“Of course, are you looking for anything in particular today, sir?”

You make a point to coyly emphasise the last word of that sentence, as you recall the time he’d specifically told you not to call it him, when you’d awoken at The Last Drop.

His amused eyes scan across the items and a part of you wonders whether he’s ever set foot in a kitchen before, let alone used one of the utensils laid out neatly in front of him. For the life of you, you can’t picture the man cooking, although you do note with a tiny amount of shame that you would very much like to see him in an apron.

Silco picks up a pizza wheel and meets your gaze, his eyes shining as he awaits your reaction.

“You might struggle to kill someone with that,” you tell him coquettishly, and his smirk widens even more.

“I’ll find a way,” he replies in that low, low drawl that has you taking in a shallow breath.

You bite your tongue once more, as the self-destructive part of you itches to respond with: ‘ooh, now sir, don’t threaten me with a good time’, but you hold it in. Just.

“If it’s a weapon you’re after, might I suggest these measuring spoons?”

“And how, pray tell, could I use those to incapacitate my enemies?”

“Well, they are the perfect size to gouge somebody’s eye out,” you inform him demurely, your lips pouting and head tilting as you hold his gaze.

His chuckle is dark, and quite frankly, delicious. You want him to do it again.

“I’ll take them both.”

“Of course, sir.”

You can’t help but grin as he hands you the money and you carefully place the measuring spoons in his hand, alongside the pizza wheel already in his palm.

“Thank you, have a good day!”

“Oh, I will.”

His lips are still twisted in that sinful smirk, which only makes you certain he can hear the goosebumps beginning to dot the skin on the back of your neck.

With one last sweeping gaze over you, he leaves, and you watch him walk down the street, the pizza wheel and measuring spoons disappearing into his coat pocket as he heads back towards The Last Drop. Everyone else in the market is focusing on how he parts the crowd, like his aura is forcibly pushing away anyone who comes close to him. Of course, ever the odd one out, you’re focusing on the way his hips move as he saunters. That’s right, swish those hips, skinny boy.

Once he’s too far away to see anymore, you feel a strange urge to begin loudly singing about how you’re decidedly not in love, while some marble statues come to life and join in as your backing vocalists.

You think it’s going to be a while before you see him again, but you’re overjoyed to be proved wrong when Silco shows up a few days later. Only this time, it’s an extremely busy day at the stall and you’re battling to serve as many customers as possible, all while trying to avoid losing your mind and smacking the nearest person with a frying pan. There must be a kitchen utensil festival happening soon, you reason. It’s the only plausible explanation for it to be this busy.

It's clear that he’s arrived when the bustling crowd suddenly begins to funnel away, until you’re left with just one smug-looking customer stood across the table from you. You cross your arms and sigh deeply, a grin spreading across your face as you do.

“Do you have to be so intimidating? You’re scaring off all my customers.”

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s my whole business model.”

“Hmm, I bet,” you mumble, “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m looking for a present for Jinx,” he tells you, lifting his chin in the air to look down his nose at you.

“I didn’t realise she liked kitchen utensils.”

“She loves them.”

He doesn’t miss a beat in responding to your facetious comment. You snort.

“Does she really?”

“Yes, she uses them to work on her projects.”

“Ah, I see, that makes sense,” you nod amusedly, his own entertained expression trained carefully on yours.

You chat with him for much longer this time, and you can feel your boss’ eyes burning into you in horror, as the conversation turns from the stall’s new merchandise to how Jinx is doing, to how he is, and finally, to how you are. It’s almost scary how easily you can settle into conversation with the crime lord. What’s scarier is, you know you’re going to have to somehow appease your boss when Silco’s gone, since you’re sure no-one else has ever gotten away with being so openly casual and flirtatious with the Eye of Zaun.

You can picture your denial now. The what of Zaun? Never heard of her.

And to your absolute delight, he’s back again the very next day, this time holding two food containers in his long, lithe hands. Fuck, this obsession with his hands is not healthy.

He peers down at you as you perch on the stool behind the counter, and you wonder if this is what ice-cream feels like when its being ogled at under the glass counter of the ice-cream parlour. This time, your boss has left you in charge of the stall as he picks up a new shipment of stock, a task that shouldn’t take all day, but curiously enough always does. So, you’re left to fend for yourself against the man you’re falling for at a concerningly swift rate.

You can’t help but smile at Silco, whose eyes are indescribably soft as they inspect you.

“Is that lunch?”, you gesture to the containers he’s holding.

“It is.”

“What a co-inky-dink, I was just about to have my lunch break! You wanna join?”

“I’d be delighted,” Silco drawls, immediately making his way around the counter.

It’s bizarre to see him move so quickly, (almost as if he’s eager, you muse), but it’s even more bizarre to see him on this side of the stall. You feel heat begin to creep through your body as he gets closer to you and you’re so distracted, you almost miss him holding out one of the food containers towards you.

You stare at it dumbly and he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Oh. You bought that for me?”

“No, I stole it for you.”

You finally meet his gaze and his smile mirrors your own. You feel like screaming. He bought you lunch?? Is he trying to seduce you? Because, if so, it’s working.

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely (maybe a little too sincerely), and you’re pretty sure you’ve thrown him for one too, if the slight widening of his pupils is anything to go by.

It takes Silco a moment to recover from your villainous stunt of being grateful, before he begins to look around for somewhere to sit. Unfortunately for him, the only other place available behind the counter is the tiny little stool that is usually reserved for you.

Right now, you feel extremely privileged to be sitting on the big stool. Granted, you’re still cautious around the abhorrent little things, but you’re less offended by these ones, because it’s much more difficult to be unwillingly tied to them compared to a regular ch**r.

Silco is looking very fixedly at you now as he realises the situation you’re both in. You stare back innocently.

You’re not moving. It’s a matter of principle. You never get to sit on the big stool and you’re not about to give it up just because he’s the leader of the Undercity or whatever.

Your little staring contest comes to an end when he huffs a deep exhale and slowly sinks down onto the tiny stool, his face painfully neutral.

You feel like you’re in a fever dream. You begin to think you couldn’t possibly see anything more hilarious than the sight before you, until he carefully lifts and places both feet onto the little bars joining the legs of the stool together.

Then, he hunches forward and begins to eat from the container.

…He literally looks like a fucking rat.

An adorable one, mind you, but a rat nonetheless.

And by all means, it would be blatantly criminal not to take this golden opportunity to poke fun, so you do just that.

“How’s the weather down there?”

“Alright that’s enough, get up.”

“Awww,” you whine, as he stands up abruptly and closes the gap between you, until he’s stood inches away from you. The movement is so decisive, and his expression is so commanding, you feel your body automatically obeying his words.

Before you know what’s really happened, you’re suddenly down on the tiny stool and he’s towering above you on the big stool, looking like the cat who just ate the canary. You glare at him menacingly. You really ought to learn how to be unaffected by that trick of his before it’s too late.

It’s not long until you’re back into your rhythm of pleasant chit chat, mixed in with some good old-fashioned joshing. It’s nice. And is beginning to feel entirely too natural. The box in your mind where you’re keeping all your troublesome thoughts about him is starting to overflow, and you worry that once it does, you’ll never get the lid back on it. So, you just add that particular worry to the pile and resolve to deal with it later. …Or never.

Now that Silco has hijacked the superior seat, he’s mostly hidden from the customers’ view, meaning he can eat his lunch in peace while you have to continue to deal with the occasional market-goer. He watches with great interest as you serve the odd customer who appears at the stall during your lunch break.

Silco appears to be awfully impressed when you convince one man to buy an egg slicer, pestle and mortar, a ladle, a garlic press, and a whole set of new chopping boards, when he only came to get a wooden spoon. And the best bit was, he’d openly admitted to not needing a cheese grater since he was lactose intolerant, but still toddled away with it under his arm, alongside the rest of the items you’d lured him into buying.

You were just starting to feel cherished under Silco’s fascinated approval when another customer makes his presence known by repeatedly clicking his fingers at you.

“Oi, do you actually work here or are you just paid to sit there looking ugly?”

Oh. So, he’s that kind of customer. (A prick)

You stand up and turn on the ‘customer service smile’, but your eyes are filled with pure fire, straight from the pits of hell. Luckily, your cheerful tone hides the hatred you feel radiating inside you.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“I need some aftershave.”

He does.

“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t sell aftershave,” you tell him politely, looking down at the items on the table that anyone with a single brain cell could identify as kitchen utensils and not aftershave.

“Why not?”

“We only sell kitchen utensils.”

“That’s stupid.”

You kind of agree. It was a bit stupid. But you weren’t about to tell him that. In your humble view, the customer was never right. It didn’t matter anyway, because he continued his little rant, as if you actually cared about what he thought.

“What a waste of a market stall. Who’s idea was that? Yours? You look stupid enough to think a stall with nothing but kitchen utensils would make any money,” the man insults you and you’re disappointed by his lack of creativity in trying to offend you. I mean, come on, if he was really trying to upset you, he was doing a miserable job.

You’re about to point him in the opposite direction to the one stall you know sells aftershave, when you feel Silco standing up and taking his place directly next to you. His arm brushes against yours and you feel like every neuron in that arm has been fired at once. Looking up at him in surprise, you see his thunderous expression, as he all but snarls at the man.

“Unless you wish to know what it feels like to have every bone in your body broken at once, I suggest you vacate this market immediately.”

It’s with great delight that you observe the rude customer begin to shake as he recognises it’s the Eye of Zaun who is threatening him, and you almost cheer when he runs away from you, stumbling into other shoppers as he makes his hasty escape.

You think you might be in shock. No-one has ever stood up for you like that before. Much less physically threatened them in such a gorgeous display of dominance. Oh no. You’re a goner now.

You must be in a daze as you stare after the man because Silco places a hand on your shoulder, causing the rapidly weakening self-control, that’s keeping you from JUST KISSING HIS GODAMN MOUTH ALREADY, to become a thousand times weaker.

“Are you alright?” he asks, clearly concerned.

No. You’re not alright. You’re far from alright. But telling him that would only ruin all the delicious banter you’ve been enjoying with him over the past week. So, as you finally meet his gaze, you raise a hand over your brow and dramatically pretend to swoon.

“My hero.”

He rolls his eyes and moves to sit back down, an action you follow.

“Seriously though, thank you for sticking up for me,” you tell him genuinely, “Although, I have had customers much worse than him. One time someone threw a sieve at my head because I told them we didn’t offer gift cards for the stall. I mean, come on, who wants a gift card for kitchen utensils?”

“Hmm,” was his response, clearly thinking deeply about something.

After some time, he breaks the comfortable silence with a remark that squeezes your heart in a way that really shouldn’t, considering how unromantic it actually was.

“You’re not ugly. Or stupid.”

“…What?”

“That imbecile called you ugly. You are not.”

“Cheers, you’re not too bad on the eyes either,” you smirk at him, favouring a cheeky response as opposed to a serious one that might have put you in dangerous waters.

He ignores the back-handed compliment.

“Jinx has been asking about you; she misses you.”

“I miss her too,” you tell him honestly. You’d missed him as well, but considering you’d only seen him the day before, that admission was just a bit too embarrassing to be voiced.

“You’re always welcome to visit us at The Drop. When you’re not working, of course.”

“Mondays are my day off.”

“I’ll look forward to your visit this Monday, then,” Silco informs you, a demand, not request, but a light-hearted one all the same.

You nod with a knowing smile. And you’d be damned if the lanky boy didn’t look almost excited at the prospect of you being back in his home once more. What in Janna’s name had you gotten yourself into?

Returning to The Last Drop feels, well… right. Jinx is over the moon when you walk through the front doors and rushes to throw her arms around your waist. She wastes no time in pulling you over to the bar, where she has set up her new projects in a row across the counter top, all ready to be shown to you. Only a few minutes pass before Silco appears at the top of the staircase, clipboard and pen in hand as he makes his way down towards you. Your body is radiating with nervous energy at the mere sight of him, so you resort to your tried and true 5 G’s method, reserved for when you feel yourself going off the rails at something ridiculous. Good gods girl, get a grip.

For the next few weeks, your Monday visits becomes a permanent fixture in your schedule, to your unabashed delight. You alternate between playing games and talking with Jinx whilst Silco works, and chatting to Silco when Jinx is sat on his lap, quietly doodling all over the back of his paperwork. The peaceful domesticity is something you never thought you’d be so enthralled by, but you absolutely adore it. It begins to feel like home.

On one particularly memorable visit, Jinx seems to be overflowing with energy, so the only reasonable option is to hold 8 spoons between the gaps of your fingers, and chase her around the bar in a game you’ve now dubbed as ‘Edward Spoonhands’. Silco tries to keep his face neutral, but the slight upward tick of his lips gives him away. It’s not there for long because Jinx soon squeals in delight and recklessly throws herself onto his lap, trying to hide from you as you charge at her full speed across the floor of the bar. She’s so overexcited, it takes Silco a ridiculous amount of time to finally calm her down. Admittedly, you would feel bad about making his day that much more difficult, but you barely have time to, given how out of breath you are from running about for so long.

Another time, you’re just on your way into the bar, pushing the front door open only to immediately trip and fall face-first onto the ground. You’re not physically hurt, but you’re pretty sure your pride is irreparably damaged from the humiliating stunt. Instead of getting up straight away like a normal person would, you roll onto your back and stare crossly at the ceiling, your hand placed atop the other on your stomach. You hope that by acting like an unmoving chameleon, the ground will swallow you up and transport you to a place where nobody can recognise your brainless mug.

As you’re lying there, a recognisable face comes into view above you, a conceited smirk adorning his scarred lips as he peers down at you. Silco keeps his arms behind his back and you note with some offense that he doesn’t offer to help you up and doesn’t even ask if you’re alright. What a bastard.

“Who put that there?” you ask defiantly.

“The doorstep?”

“Yes, I’d like to make a complaint with the owner,” you grumble.

“I’m afraid he’s rather busy at the moment. But do feel free to leave your comment in the suggestion box,” Silco replies smoothly, his arm lifting to point at something across the room.

He has a suggestion box?? Leaning on your hands as you sit up and follow the line of his outstretched arm and finger, you spot exactly what he’s gesturing to. It’s the bin.

You roll your eyes. This bitch.

“You need some more training in customer service skills,” you tell him emphatically.

“You should consider yourself lucky; I’m usually inclined to kill those who complain about my business.”

You have to agree with him. You do consider yourself to be pretty damn lucky.

A few weeks later, you find yourself inexplicably excited for your next Monday visit because you’d spent a ridiculous amount of your Sunday evening painstakingly gathering ingredients, baking, and decorating some cupcakes for Jinx and Silco. Despite how tired you were after adding on the extra hours to your already long work day, you resolved that it was worth it, just to see the looks on their faces when you presented your gift.

Entering The Last Drop around lunchtime, you make sure to avoid tripping on the doorstep, since the last thing you wanted was to unceremoniously send the cupcakes sprawling across the floor. You find Silco and Jinx sat at the bar working on their respective projects and you can’t help but greet them cheerfully from across the room.

“Asuh my dudes!” earns you a blank look from them both, which only serves to pull your grin even wider.

Making your way over to the bar, you decide to stand behind it so you’re facing them both. You want to be able to see their reactions when they try the sugary goodness you’ve lovingly crafted for them. The old man might even smile, if you’d done your job right.

“I made you some cupcakes because you both work far too hard and I decided you deserve a treat.”

You hold out the open tin towards them both, offering them first choice like the polite young lady you are. Jinx leans forward and looks nothing short of ecstatic as she reaches to pick one up, but she’s interrupted by Silco, who barks out his command in a way that if you didn’t know any better, you’d think was laced with panic.

“Wait!”

You all freeze. Slowly, your eyes meet his and you see the unmistakeable look of apprehension painting his face. Oh. You understand now. He’s worried the cupcakes might be poisoned.

He doesn’t trust you.

You can’t help the way your stomach feels like its falling through your body, like a rollercoaster that has just dropped from its highest point. Does he really think you’re capable of poisoning them? Or that you’d even dream of hurting them in the first place? After everything you’ve been through?

Keeping your gaze locked onto his, you slowly reach for one of the cupcakes and bring it to your mouth, taking a bite and swallowing purposefully. Silco visibly relaxes at the gesture. But you don’t. Despite the growing nausea swirling through your belly, you finish off the cupcake and shove the wrapper in your pocket.

You want to hurl the tin at the wall, but instead you shakily fumble to put the lid back on, drawing it close to your chest.

“You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to, I just thought-” you begin, your voice trembling as you scrabble to fill the heavy silence.

Silco stands, leans over the counter, and gently prises the tin from your hands. Watching him dumbfoundedly, you observe him taking the lid off once more, lifting out one of the cupcakes, and nibbling the tiniest bit out of it.

“Lovely; do try one, Jinx.”

But it doesn’t make you feel better. How could it? He’d basically just implied that there was a chance you might have been trying to kill them.

Jinx wolfs her cupcake down at an alarming rate and wastes no time in climbing onto the bar and throwing herself at you in a hug, until you’re awkwardly carrying her as she’s wrapped around you from your front. She jumps down and pulls you over to one of the booths across the room, loudly babbling about a new idea she has that she wants your opinion on.

You don’t look at Silco again. You can’t. Not when he’d shown such an open display of distrust like that. You’re glad that Jinx has pulled you away from the situation and you’re even more relieved when it turns out you’re able to sit with your back facing him. It takes all your strength, but you put on a careful mask, making sure Jinx doesn’t realise just how upset you are. Truthfully, you’re glad for the distraction she provides, if only to distance yourself from the confusing mixture of shock and heartache and anger you’re feeling.

Some time later, you inform Jinx that you need the bathroom, and find yourself spending much longer than is really necessary to wash your hands. You want to feel okay again, to act like it never happened, but you just can’t. Honestly, it hurt. How could he think of you like that?

When you exit the bathroom, you’re surprised to find Silco hovering in the corridor, evidently waiting for you, since there was nothing else of note in this particular hallway. His gaze snaps up to your crushed expression, which you quickly replace with one of impassivity, taking a page from the kingpin’s book.

The closed off look isn’t the only guard you put up, your sarcastic tone matching it nicely, as you reach into a place that you feel much more comfortable with.

“Do you make a habit of hanging around outside the ladies’ bathroom?”

He scoffs, and opens his mouth as if he is about to retort with an equally sarcastic response, when he snaps it shut again and takes a deep breath in and out.

“It was not my intention to offend you,” he says softly.

You stare at him, trying to read his thoughts.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you finally mumble, not yet feeling emotionally ready for such a serious conversation.

Silco begins to speak again when you hear a crash from the bar. The uncomfortable discussion is forgotten as you both dash towards the noise and find Jinx sat on the floor next to a broken chair.

“I was only trying to build a den!” she protests, as Silco marches over to her to check for any injuries.

Luckily, she isn’t hurt, but that doesn’t stop you from giving the stupid fucking chair a kick like it deserves. Bloody things are more trouble than they’re worth. …Okay, maybe you’re projecting.

Once everyone has calmed down from Jinx’s little mishap, you only stick around for another half hour before the tension becomes entirely too suffocating. You make a pathetic attempt at excusing yourself, muttering something about needing to clean all the kitchen utensils for tomorrow’s work day, before gathering your belongings to leave.

You can’t help but stare at the abandoned tin of cupcakes left on the counter. Part of you wants to snatch them up and take back your gift, if only out of spite for the way he’d made you feel horrible after trying to do something nice for him. But that line of thought is deserted the moment you glance at Silco’s face.

If you were one for dramatics (which you most definitely are), you’d almost say he looks heartbroken, as he gazes at you wistfully. It’s enough to have you mumbling out a short goodbye to them both, before exiting the bar with a heavy feeling sweeping through your chest.

That night, as you’re lying in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, you can’t help but run through the events of the day over and over again, until it makes you want to scream. Part of you doesn’t blame him. In the grand scheme of things, he hadn’t known you for long at all, and in the Undercity, it wasn’t wise to place your full trust in anybody, let alone someone you’d only just met.

And the fact that he was the King of Zaun wouldn’t have helped matters either. I mean, he was probably inundated with rivals and wannabe-kingpins trying to hurt him and Jinx. And not to mention the rumours you’d heard of his troubled past. It made sense that he’d struggle to trust people with all those factors working against him.

But it didn’t stop it from hurting. You thought it had been different between the two of you. That there was something special going on. Perhaps you’d been wrong.

Using your work as a distraction, you focused on keeping yourself busy. And when you were lying to yourself as readily as you’d lied to your boss about when you’d been kidnapped, you could almost believe that you didn’t feel as disappointed as you truly did.

But, the watery illusion you’d found yourself drowning in is pulled down the plug, leaving you mentally gasping for air, when Silco arrives at your stall a few days later. In all honesty, you weren’t expecting to see him so soon after your little misunderstanding, so you feel positively bewildered and entirely unprepared for the encounter.

You’re sat on the tiny little stool, even though the big stool is empty, as your boss has deserted you to fetch some lunch from another stall. Rather awkwardly, there’s a good few moments where Silco just stares down at you and you stare back up at him, trying to figure out just what he’s thinking.

He looks, dare you say… nervous? It’s fairly similar to the way he’d looked when you had left him in his office all that time ago, but there’s something different about it. More hesitant. You bite the bullet and speak first (yet again).

“Hello.”

It’s a quiet sound, one that has him pursing his lips and nodding at you, which you assume is his greeting, as he places down a thin box on the counter in front of you. A quick, confused glance is all you afford him, before you slowly lift off the top to reveal an intricately designed knife. It’s beautiful.

“What’s this?” you ask breathlessly.

You half expect him to say ‘a knife’, like the sarcastic twat he is, but his sincere response tugs at your heart strings.

“An apology.”

The knife itself is sharp, clearly forged by hand, and immaculately polished, if the sharp glint in the neon lights of the market is anything to go by. The hilt is sleek black, detailed with thin, burgundy stripes. His colours.

You feel tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes at the weight of this expensive gift and the sincerity of his words. You thought that him defending you from rude customers was too good to be true, but this was on a whole new level. It made you want to wrap your arms around him and show him just how much you appreciate the grand gesture, to kiss him until he can’t mistake your forgiveness.

But you knew it’d be too much, especially in front of the whole market. So you tease him instead, if only to stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks.

“Thank you, I needed a new bread knife.”

He rolls his eyes and sighs deeply as you manage to meet his gaze once again.

“Your lack of familiarity with knives is concerning, given how many you sell on a daily basis.”

You’re about to tell him that the average shopper doesn’t visit your stall looking for weapons, unlike him in his endearingly crime lord-y manner, when he reaches across the table and gently takes one of your hands into his own.

You think you might have stopped breathing. Is he trying to kill you?

A tender squeeze of your hand brings your focus back to his eyes, creating a moment that is eerily reminiscent of the way he’d squeezed your arms, just before you’d collapsed onto him in the warehouse. You almost feel just as dizzy this time, even without the head trauma.

“I’d like to make it up to you. Let me take you out,” Silco tells you, his soft tone matching the unbearably soft look on his face.

There’s nothing to make up for. Nothing to forgive. You want to tell him he’s already proved just how sorry he is. But that doesn’t stop you from blurting out your ridiculous question instead.

“What, like a date? Or take me out as in murder?” you ask, not knowing which one you’d prefer. Probably the date. …Probably.

Silco rolls his eyes again and you worry that if he keeps doing it so dramatically like that, they might just fall out one day. That’d be a shame. What would they call him then? The Long-Nose of Zaun?

“No.”

“Okay then, I’ll just wear my dusty, old work apron if it’s not a date or an execution,” you respond demurely, shrugging one shoulder.

“You’d look lovely in anything, my dear,” he murmurs, as he strokes his thumb across your hand.

Fuck. WHAT IS HE DOING THAT FOR, NOW??

He must be able to feel the way your pulse begins to raise because his demeanour melts from one of worry to its usual cheeky manner, that appeared to be reserved solely for you.

“So?” he prompts, an eyebrow raising at your obvious sensitivity to his touch.

It takes a few moments of really staring at him before you can give your answer. You had to make sure there was nothing hidden in those captivating eyes of his. Nothing that might suggest he had any ulterior motives that might convince you this was a bad idea. But to your relief, all you saw was longing. Longing to spend more time with you.

“…alright, go on then. I’ll go on a date with you.”

His smile makes you feel like you’re going to burst with joy.

When you’d first realised that it was Silco tied to the chair behind yours, you thought your life was over. Never in a million years would you have expected it to lead to you feeling like your life was just beginning.

But here you were. Holding hands with the King of Zaun as he leant across the market stall, his sleeve getting caught slightly on a whisk that you were in the process of cleaning before he’d shown up. And if that wasn’t the most romantic thing you could think of, you didn’t know what was.

PART 4

A/N: this is now a fast burn bc apparently I believe in love at first sight??? who’d have thunk?? Not me, that’s for sure

Also, I hope this is better than part 2 which I worried wasn’t as good. I hope I didn’t disappoint anybody :( I’m still getting used to writing prose, I’m normally a screenwriter (not professionally tho… I wish)

Tag list: @htmlbitxh

#silco #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco fic #silco arcane #silco x you #part 3

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uncovering-sumac · 1 year

Text

I did it! I wrote my first article!

Although that means now people will read what I wrote… eek. Maybe I should have thought this through.

4 Bars You Should Know in Sumac, by Del Blaushild

Hello, Sumac! My name’s Del and I’m the new tourism writer in town. I never got to meet the last writer, Pat Davies, but I’ve been reading a lot of his articles, getting to know him just a little bit. For my first article I’ve taken one of his old pieces and updated it, revisiting his recommendations and adding a few of my own. Let’s get started!

1. Sprout’s

A controversial favorite on the corner of West and Maple, this bar and grill has held the award for Best Vegan Restaurant for three years in a row. When Pat visited after their first win, a crowd of plant-rights activists had been demonstrating outside for hours. “They’re upset because we’re not afraid to stick to our traditions,” the owner Dave said of the demonstrators. “They may not like it, but nothing’s ever gonna replace plants. Think of a veggie burger. The taste, the texture- no dry, flavorless hunk of meat can come close to that. Americans love plants, and that’s just the way it is.” Three years later, Dave seems to be right. Sprout’s still draws a healthy crop of locals, and curious visitors stop by for a chance to taste the controversial “Veggie Lover’s Pizza.” During my visit I didn’t see any protestors, but a few posters were taped up outside showing vegetables being diced and soybeans being pressed into tofu in graphic detail.

2. Rosencrantz & Guildensterns

Brother-sister duo Frank and Becca opened this Sumac mainstay ten years ago, hoping to create a place “where friends can get together, talk about books, and make weird art.” Their bar is a popular hangout for Sumac’s creative types, who donated the paintings hanging on the walls and have featured it as a location in countless short films. In his original article Pat wrote about the friendly people and spectacular taxidermy assortment, which are both worth a visit on their own, but I also want to shout out their music and poetry parties on the first Friday of the month. Attendees bring records and play them backwards, then everyone writes down what they hear and writes poems out of it. If you’re lucky, you may even see Acacia the cat on one of her weekly visits.

3. Ozzie’s

This bar’s location on the edge of Candor Lake attracts locals and tourists alike. Even in the dead of winter, patrons will sweep snow off the benches on the wide deck to enjoy the view into the steep basin of the lake. An affordable happy hour and weekly live music keep the bar bustling year-round, and the new owner is keeping it cleaner and safer than ever. Sumac’s lake-watching club also meets here. Founded when its members were young kids, this close-knit group of nature enthusiasts has recently started gaining new members due to its welcoming and relaxed attitude. The small group of retired men who made up the club when Pat visited has grown into a diverse group with members of all ages. I learned an amazing amount about freshwater fish while sitting with the group, and the bartender makes a mean margarita.

4. The Ellicott Inn

What list would be complete without Sumac’s oldest establishment? Built in 1810 by Nathaniel Ellicott, the inn has hosted figures such as Rosetta Douglass, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and Kate Gleason, as well as countless Western New Yorkers visiting to take the waters of Candor Lake. On its first floor Gertie’s Tavern serves up historically accurate dishes from the town’s heyday, while the second and third floors still function as an inn. Go on the Sumac Haunted History tour and you’ll finish here, as the ghosts of Ellicott and his family are said to roam the halls to this day. The stable boy, who spent most of his free hours in the tavern in life, is said to appear beside you if you sit alone at the bar, and he’ll challenge you to a drinking contest. What do you get if you win? Nobody’s ever won, but my guess is some kind of medical record for liver damage. Pat recommends the Fox-sister-style seances, which I haven’t had a chance to attend but which he says are thrilling and most fun with friends.

Thanks for reading, Sumac! I look forward to doing more of these and getting to know the town better. If you’ve got a spot for me to visit, or any information about Pat, please write to me or stop by the tourism office. See you again soon!

#sumac ny #candor lake #unfiction

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tsukasageorge · 1 year

Note

8 10 12 14 16 18 artist ask

nico is carrying my entire inbox

1. what is your favorite color to work with?

pink and purple my beloved. red is cool too

2. who is your favorite character to draw?

(shoves mound of alluka drawings under the table) i do not have a favorite ahaha maybe aubrey because she has long hair 😊😊😊😊😊😊

3. what song(s) do you listen to when you do art?

a lot

4. how often do you draw?

at least every few days. it's pretty rare for me to go more than a week without drawing nowadays but i used to draw much less regularly and improved so much slower

5. digital or traditional?

digital! traditional is nice in small doses. i think im done with normal pencils i prefer either painting or like. charcoal as i recently discovered

6. tag your favorite artists/inspirations!

UH. UH. YOU DO I TAG YOUR ART BLOG OR MAIN. @shitbox-drawn my friend who's not on tumblr but she was my first art mutal ever i love her her names kyoki um. ngl i dont know anyone's name. tiucotheus (i dont wanna tag them i feel like id bother them) & yuumei art. hyperpop type art has been a pretty big inspiration for me recently i love colors

7. do you prefer sketching, outlining, or coloring?

sketching <3 lineart is to me what coloring is to normal people. it's relaxing sometimes but i need 1 million stabilzer. you already know how i feel about coloring

8. show us at least 2-3 drawings from 1-2 years ago.

this is the iconic sibling moment i was talking about. its roughly a year old now, and looks pretty stiff, but it was like. kinda insanely good for my skill at the time. pretty big point in my art history

here's one from 2021, its one of the oldest drawings i have on my computer. gilda was supposed to be there but i couldnt draw her so i gave up

9. what drawing program do you use? (if the artist does digital art)

clip studio paint my beloved

10. are you right or left handed?

right

11. warm or cool colors?

why are we pitting two bad bitches against each other..... personally i like ourple

12. draw one of your favorite characters in 15 seconds.

unlluka

14. what was something that you used to draw a lot that you don’t draw as much anymore?

um. bows i guess? butterfly wings, i really liked drawing those for a bit (i drew like 2 ever)

15. when was the last time you did art?

1 minutes ago if u count unlluka. i did draw earlier today though

16. what kind of tablet do you use? v v

the wacom one its like. flat. no screen

17. (alternative for traditional art ) ^ ^ do you work with pencils or pens more often?

pencils my beloved

18. how long have you been drawing/ when did you officially “declare” yourself as an artist?

i considered myself an artist when i actually drew something and didn't just shade a picture. i've been drawing for probably like... 4 years now??? that's insane i swear it was 3 yesterday

19. do you like drawing short hair or longer hair more?

LONG HAIR ESPECIALLY THE KIND THAT IS SLIGHTLY WAVY

20. how often do you get art block?

not in my art block era but if i dont have an idea then yeah

21. draw one of your original characters.

not gonna lie i actually dont really like my ocs but anyways this one is nyx they're chaotic silly. remember that royal who randomly disappeared 3 years ago yeah thats them they were hanging out w some dragons this whol time

22. do you use a mac or pc to do (digital) art?

23. draw your fav as a vampire

i will do this as not an ask bc i want to put actual effort into it

24. how many followers do you have? (on your art blog)

like 23 iirc but lets say 24 so it matches with the question number

25. where in your house do you usually do art?

exclusively on my bed but i drew nyx on nicos bed

26. draw urself! (it doesn’t have to be detailed)

same as 23 ive been meaning to make a meet the artist for a while

#asks <3 #long post

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couldyoustay · 2 years

Text

Drawn Together [Ch. 3]

pairing: bruce wayne x gn!reader

premise: An up and coming Gotham artist keeps running into trouble. Good thing there's vigilantes and awkward billionaires to help them out.

[a little slice of life slow burn with battinson- fluff and self indulgent soft touches abound]

warnings: very mild spoilers, some violence and cursing, attempted kidnapping and assault, blood and injury, stitches, mature themes

extras: reader is gender neutral, reader is an artist, Bruce Wayne is touch starved, Gotham has an art scene, probably ooc but i'm having fun

chapters: 5 // word count: ~24k

Read it on AO3

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 4 | chapter 5

CHAPTER 3

Alfred had indeed sorted out dinner, the smells of cooking once again drawing you from your room.

“It’s too much, Alfred!” you laughed, sitting with the smiling man and taking in the feast he’d prepared before you two. Lemon chicken and angel hair pasta, diced potatoes and sun dried tomatoes, salads and soup, even fresh bread.

“Nonsense!” he chittered, moving things around and passing you tongs and all manner of bowls and trays. “It’s not every day I get to put the kitchen to good use…Master Wayne never eats much- and I’d hate for my culinary skills to grow rusty,” he grinned.

The two of you dug in. Alfred inquired about your work and you regaled him with projects and tales of your adventures through Gotham’s art scene- which is about as wild as it sounds. By the time you had eaten your fill and moved onto dessert (the madman had been baking a pie the whole time), the conversation had wandered back to the past, seemingly where Alfred’s mind tended to go after long days- or apparently a few glasses of wine.

“Used to be so much more help around here! But of course we had much more to entertain. Yes, but by the time the Young Master came to be of age and the last of his tutors were free of their contracts, not even the oldest maids could stand the gloom of the place,” he went on, glass of wine sloshing in his hand.

“So…Bruce was alone?” You asked, your tired head picking up from its resting place on your crossed arms on the table. The sadness you’d studied in Bruce’s eyes held years of loneliness. Of anger, you were sure, and despair after something so traumatic.

“Indeed…except for me of course,” he added, clearing his throat. His eyes had a wet shine.

“Why stay?” The words simply fell out of your mouth and you immediately regretted prying. “If you don’t mind me asking..” you said quickly.

He shook his head gently, as if to say not at all. After a pause, he spoke slowly. “I had a promise to keep to the elder Master Wayne. And I do not take my word lightly.”

You stared at him, almost seeing the invisible barriers around this man, speculating at all the sacrifice and loss that had made him loyal and kind to a fault, but solemn for the rest of his days. He cleared his throat again and smiled at you apologetically.

“Look at me- here I am talking your ear off about old times when you’re sure to be tired.”

“No- Alfred, really..!”

“Let me get that for you.” He began removing plates and trays, shooing you away as you attempted to help him at the sink.

“Well everything was absolutely delicious, thank you so much.”

“You’re most welcome, y/n,” he smiled. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, really, thank you.”

“Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“I’d like to take a look around the gardens- if that’s alright.”

“Of course, of course,” said Alfred, looking pleased. “Take the main elevator to the 14th floor and follow the hallway all the way down, you can’t miss them.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

You’d followed Alfred’s instructions down to the 14th floor, finding yourself between two opposing doorways- one to an indoor greenhouse and one to an open air garden. You opted for the garden, wanting some fresh air. You stepped out, a cool breeze brushing across your face, and looked over the dizzying maze of topiary bordered by small, gnarled trees- not yet showing signs of withering from the oncoming winter’s chill but would no doubt soon be.

You walked through a wide main corridor, lined with overgrown but beautiful wildflowers, bordered contrastingly by meticulously manicured hedges. You wondered at who could be maintaining all of this- surely not Alfred. But the man’s devotion to the household seemed to hold no qualms. Bruce was lucky to have someone like that on his side.

Bruce. What did he think he was trying to pull? He'd better not be out there putting himself in danger. But he’d been far too cryptic with his plans for your liking. He wasn’t the fighter type, surely. And he seemed the charmer type even less.

Your thoughts were suddenly swimming with worst-case scenarios and you quickly found yourself a bench to sit and be hopelessly nervous. Should I call him? No, that’s a terrible idea, who knows what kind of smoky backroom he’s wormed his way into. Would he have left some kind of indication of his plan somewhere? His room? The study? You hated feeling so helpless here.

Your eyes wandered up into the sky. A rare break in Gotham’s cloud cover- those stars were up there winking at you again. You felt a tug in your chest as you thought about your place here, in this hollowed out manor, sitting perched above the city like a gargoyle. You closed your eyes and breathed in the rich, earthy scent from the dirt, the lingering ozone you’d always associate with this city. The sounds of Gotham’s streets sounded muffled and far away from up here.

So it was all the more startling when that quiet was interrupted by a heavy thud from above, your eyes snapping open. The balcony, surely- off from the large ballroom, the one that looked over the gardens. You stood and strained your neck to try and peer through the marble railing.

“Alfred?” You called. No reply. You became suddenly alarmed that the man had stumbled on his rounds through the house. You hurried to the elevators, making your way back up to the main floor and through the halls, the darkened ballroom rushing to meet you as you swiftly dashed through, flinging open the glass doors.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes fell upon a dark mass collapsed onto the balcony’s floor. A scream began building in your throat as a pair of eyes glinted from the swath of black fabric and your feet stumbled back. Then came a choked gasp- your name on rattled breath- before the figure slumped before you. Light caught on two devilish points and a thick cape, your eyes finally able to make sense of the sight before you.

“Batman…” you breathed, crouching beside him in an instant. What the hell was he doing here of all places? Hands shaking, you nudged his shoulder to the side. Christ, he was heavy. Your hand splayed on his marred chest plates, trying to turn him over. And do what?? Check his pulse? His whole body was covered.

“Hey=“ you began, shaking him gently when suddenly, you realized the hand on his side was wet. You pulled it away, breath hitching at the sight of his blood, dark and sickeningly warm on your skin.

“ALFRED!!” you cried, your own voice sounding far away as pressure rang in your ears. The next few moments were blurs, the two of you somehow grappling the masked man inside. The next thing you knew, he was groaning half-conscious on the dining room table- where you’d just shared a lovely meal no less- bleeding onto the mahogany.

“Alfred we- we need to stop the bleeding-“ you stammered, being handed an armful of towels. The butler whirled around you, bringing supplies from across the house and spilling them onto the table. He hovered over Batman and with a few quick latches, removed the plating and was slicing open an undershirt.

“I need you to apply pressure.” He said it so matter-of-factly to you, offering no explanations. Not that there was time for any, but you caught something deeply worried behind his eyes.

As you pressed the cloth to the Batman’s side, you felt him stir- a sharp intake of breath and a pained gasp as he jerked away from you. A startling red bloomed onto the white cloth in your hands.

“Sir, I need you to lie still,” Alfred said firmly, holding him in place with a surprisingly strong grip. You kept up your efforts, the vigilante staying as still as he was able. The pain had caused him to resurface at least, you thought, catching his burning gaze for a moment. He almost seemed shocked, taking you all in disbelievingly as if you were some sort of apparition, before the man’s eyes squeezed shut in pain, his head lolling back.

“Hold on…” you murmured, “hold on.” Again, louder. “We’re gonna get you patched up..”

“Of course we are,” Alfred insisted gruffly, threading a surgical needle nearby. “Even if you are a bloody fool. I told you it was too soon,” he directed at Batman.

“Alfred…” warned the low voice from the table.

“And did your grand plan come to fruition, hmm?” Alfred said, an uncharacteristic venom in his tone. So they knew each other. Was this some kind of regular occurrence? Wayne Manor just open for the wayward injured vigilante?

“I took care of it.”

Alfred gave an exasperated sigh, handing over new wet towels. You dabbed them gently to the wound, relieved that the bleeding had lessened.

“You feel like you can just take on anything, huh?” Alfred wasn’t letting up. “Was it worth it?”

Batman grit his teeth. “Yes.” His chest rumbled with the word, practically growled. His eyes fell onto you and Alfred’s eyes widened, softening with understanding but still determinedly stern.

Pieces were snapping into place in your head with dizzying speed.

“Y-you..”

Those eyes looked up at you from the table, wary. Those goddamn eyes.

“You!” You said again with finality, pressing ointment into the wound and watching its burn cause the man laying before you- Bruce goddamn Wayne himself- to wince with a sick sort of satisfaction.

“You were the one who said those guys were from a larger group!” you said accusingly, rising to your feet.

“I know…”

“You said they had powerful friends!”

“I know!” He almost moved to sit up, crying out easing back to the table with a groan.

You huffed worriedly and Alfred relieved you of your position, urging you gently to Wayne’s side then taking your spot, peeling away cloth and readying the needle.

“I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing,” he mumbled after a moment of quiet. “…not after..” His eyes flicked upward to meet yours.

Your resolve all but crumbled beneath that gaze- as per usual. You gave a small scoff and looked away, ready to be as determined as Alfred at being angry with him. He’d put his life on the line for you. Not that this was an unusual occurrence with him. He’d been doing it every day- for the entire city. But this one had been personal. You’d seen it in the brewing storm in his eyes when he’d left hours ago. This vengeance was for your sake.

Wayne’s eyes were squeezed shut, wincing in pain with every insertion of the needle by Alfred’s careful and clearly practiced hand.

“Wayne..” you began, but he cut you off with soft laughter punctuated with pain.

“I think.. we’re well past formalities.” His grin came out as more of a grimace.

You swallowed hard but said nothing, reaching slowly for his helmet. He made no move to stop you, only watching you intently now, so you continued. He seemed to need something else to focus on besides the pain anyway.

Your hands found the sides of the headpiece, prying the tight material up from his head. Slick hair fell to his forehead and you watched his eyes fall closed in relief. Think black paint was smeared around his eyes. Added to his already pale skin, which had only been desaturated further due to blood loss, gave his face a frightening, skeletal appearance. You watched the hitched rise and fall of his chest as Alfred worked diligently.

You reached for a gloved hand with your own. Wayne took it without a word, his eyes still squeezed shut.

By the time Alfred had finished, Bruce seemed to be just barely conscious.

“Master Wayne?” said the butler gently.

“Bed.” he replied weakly, an arm thrown over his face.

“Wouldn’t you rather-“

“Bed.” He insisted, letting his stoic expression fall as he removed his arm, showing just how pained and tired he was. You looked to the butler.

“We should get him to his room,” said a weary Alfred, scrubbing the blood from his hands in the sink. You merely nodded. The two of you hoisted Bruce up under his arms and he limped his way down the long hallway to his room, suppressing groans of pain. Alfred opened the large doors and the two of you helped Bruce into bed.

“Thank you for all your help, y/n,” said Alfred sincerely, looking over Bruce like a concerned parent. “Please get some sleep- I’ll get him sorted,” he assured you.

You found yourself nodding again, unsure what to say. Hell, what were you supposed to say to everyone tomorrow? You turned to go and felt a gloved hand catch yours. The hair on the back of your neck prickled hearing your name rumble through Bruce’s chest.

“Thank you,” he murmured, eyes glinting in the dim light of the room.

You couldn’t help but smile sadly, continuing to be perplexed by this man. “I’m the one who should be thanking you..” You squeezed his hand and gently let it go, taking your leave. You hoped he’d get some rest- the bags under his eyes had already told you he wasn’t normally inclined to.

Back in your room, you tried to get some sleep yourself. But after a considerable amount of tossing and turning, you realized your efforts were in vain.

You huffed and shoved the plush duvet away, climbing out of bed. Gotham glittered below you in the night, looking quiet and beautiful from far away. You sighed and grabbed your empty water glass from the bedside table, creeping down the hall to refill it.

As you pad your way back, you swear you hear a soft thud coming from Wayne’s room down the hall. You paused in your tracks, listening for anything else.

Silence.

Could it have been your imagination? No, there it was again. You put your glass back in your room and tiptoed toward the large set of doors. You felt like a creep leaning in and listening intently. But what if he was hurt? What if whatever he was dealing with back in the city had followed him home? You couldn’t wait any longer after hearing a sharp cry of pain from behind the doors.

“Bruce? Bruce!!” You hissed, rushing through the doors and taking in the dark room before you.

Pieces of his Batman armor were strewn about the floor. His sheets looked as if they had been dragged together in a path from the bed to the master bath, flecked in places with dark red. You scampered to the bath and skidded to a halt in the doorway. Wayne was on the floor in boxers, fumbling with a box of bandaids with shaking hands, half the contents of his cabinets strewn about him. His head snapped up at you as you came into view, his gaze already defensive in preparation for the worst but softening to something like embarrassment when he realized it was you.

“Uh-“ you stammered, feeling a hot blush threaten to creep up your collar as you immediately regretted busting into his room. “I just…wanted to make sure you were ok..” you tried, looking sheepish.

Bruce looked like he wanted to disappear in that moment but soon lowered his head, his shoulders shaking with repressed laughs.

“Alfred was right. I do want to get cleaned up. But everything hurts,” he laughed weakly. “I barely made it in here.”

Now that his armor was removed, you really got to see how beat up he was. His skin was a patchwork of bruises and abrasions, dried blood caking cuts you hadn’t even seen before under the suit’s dark material.

“Fuck…” you breathed.

“I know- I look like shit..” he smirked, looking exhausted.

“No! I mean well yes but- argh c’mon, let’s just get you cleaned up. If you can barely stand I’ll draw you a bath..” you said quickly, getting up to do just that.

His eyes followed you around but he was silent. Once the water was running in Wayne’s fancy-ass claw-foot tub and you’d decided the temperature was acceptable, you headed back to him. He was making another attempt to stand, still clutching the bandaids. You swiped the box from him and set it on the counter, giving him an exasperated glare.

“Just hold on a second!” you helped hoist him up like before, taking his arm around your shoulder. “Don’t go hurting yourself more…you wouldn’t want me to wake Alfred and have him do another round of stitches, would you?”

“N-no,” he grimaced, your shoulder digging into a purpling bruise on his ribs.

“Sorry,” you said gingerly, adjusting yourself slightly.

He didn’t look it under those thick overcoats but shit, he was built. It wasn’t an easy feat limping him across the marble toward the bath, the water steaming up his frigid room. You leaned him up against the side of the tub and quickly shut off the water before it got too high. You stood there expectantly for a moment and he stared at you awkwardly.

“Are.. you gonna-“

“Oh!” Your face flushed and you turned around in an instant. You were grateful to turn your tomato-red face away as he took off what was left of his clothes and climbed gingerly into the tub.

You could hear hisses of pain as the hot water and soap kissed his scrapes and he sank into the tub with a groan of relief.

You turned slowly, nervous and suddenly filled with thoughts that the two people you’d been thinking about most in the past couple of weeks were in fact one person. And he was right in front of you. Naked. Thanks brain. You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts.

“Temperature okay?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Mmmm…” Bruce rumbled in reply. His head leaned back on the edge of the tub and his eyes drooped closed.

“Hey,” you called, grabbing a low stool from the vanity and a washcloth from the cabinet. You wet the cloth in the sink and came to sit beside him. “If you fall asleep in the tub I won’t be able to get you out,” you laughed softly. “Stay with me, Bruce.” You went to work on his raccoon eyes, wiping away at the grease paint. A small smile tugged up at the corners of his lips as you did so.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s.. it’s nice to hear you say my name,” he said quietly.

You cursed the pattering of your heart, trying to concentrate on removing the makeup. Your other hand rested on the side of his face. The intimacy reddened your cheeks and you were thankful Bruce’s eyes were closed.

There were a million questions racing through your mind, a million things you wanted answered, but the man before you looked so burned out, you figured you’d spare him the interrogation for tonight. You just wanted to be here for him right now. You hoped that was what he needed.

After a bit, you pulled away the washcloth and sighed.

“Did you get it?” Bruce mumbled, flashing that tired smirk.

“As much as I could,” you chuckled. “It’s alright- the eyeliner look suits you.”

He breathed a soft laugh, his eyes half-lidded and staring right at you. There was a question there, but his weariness wouldn't allow him to put it to words.

After steeling yourself for a pause, you reached out and pushed his slick hair back off his forehead, exposing the sharp panes of his features. You waited for a reproach but Wayne merely closed his eyes. You swear you heard a broken sigh. You continued in that way, running soap and water through his hair and checking what you could of the rest of his injuries, helping when he seemed to be straining. The silence between you no longer felt awkward but of a tired comfort. Gently, your hands brushed over his skin, a feather-light touch across a map of bruises.

Just when you were almost certain he’d fallen asleep, he shifted, sitting up. Water cascaded in droplets from his hair and shoulders.

His voice came out softly.

“I think I can manage…” he began, “..you don’t…have to leave.” Fumbling with his words but clearly trying to make sure you wouldn’t be uncomfortable, you couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“Right- just.. call if you need anything,” you said with a nod and wandered back to the bedroom. Seeing the state of the floor again, you attempted to gather the pieces of the Batsuit into a corner and tore off the bloodied middle sheets entirely. After some rummaging around in the closet, you tossed a few blankets onto the bed.

Bruce emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later wrapped in a towel and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring. His head bowed as he limped into the room and began rummaging in his dresser. Your eyes wandered across his scarred back, watching his muscles ripple with each movement. He looked up before going back to the bathroom with a wad of clothes in hand, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You’re sweet.”

The door clicked shut softly behind him.

From the very edge of the bed where you sat perched, hardly daring to sit anywhere further in, your heart pounded in your chest. Get a grip, y/n!! You told yourself. You were still a guest and these…strange circumstances didn’t give you any special permissions. He’d let you touch him, though. You wondered if he’d do it again.

Bruce emerged some minutes later, clad in a loose-fitting black t-shirt and sweats. The lights from the bathroom illuminated him from behind for a moment before he clicked them off, the room suddenly plunging into darkness. You blinked and your eyes took a moment to adjust. The city glowed from under a light nighttime haze, casting the only source of light onto the floor and up across the bed in dim rectangles.

You felt the mattress sag from the other side as Bruce climbed into bed. He stifled his groans as he laid down, his breaths labored in the pressing silence.

“Will you stay? Just for a little while…” That low voice rolled over you like a wave, pulling you toward him.

You smiled to yourself, easing back until you laid parallel with him.

“Course.”

You lay facing him, your eyes finally able to make out his form under the blankets. He lay on his back, one hand placed gingerly atop the bandaged wound at his side, the other raking through his damp hair. His head turned to face you and his dark eyes glinted with the glow from the windows.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you say, relief pouring into your words. You remembered the tightness in your chest earlier, not knowing where Bruce was or if he was alright. It had turned out you didn’t fully know who Bruce was either. Suddenly your thoughts were all catching up to you at once.

“Oh god..” you mumbled. You felt a flush of embarrassment rush through you.

“Hmm?”

“This whole time…it’s been you this whole time.. In the alleyway, in front of the Arts Center…at my apartment!”

He gave a low breathy laugh, “Ohh, that.. you do seem to have a habit for getting yourself into trouble.” You could hear the smile he wore saying those words. “Unless that was all just to meet the Batman.”

“Ohhh god, and then at the gala.. my drawings…” A burning blush crept into your cheeks.

He chuckled at that. “I gotta admit, I was flattered. And curious who could’ve gotten so close. And then, there you were again- and everything made sense.”

“Stoppppp,” you groaned, having buried your face in a large pillow. Welp, it was all there, out in the open now.

“It…it’s strange having someone know the truth. But I’m glad it’s you.”

You peered out at him, turning your head slightly to the side. “The things you do…”

“It’s dangerous, I know. But this city isn’t going to get better with us just sitting around. People need something to hold onto. Need to realize they have the power to do something, too.”

You smiled at him, shaking your head slightly. After a pause, you sighed.

“Alright Mr. Vigilante. But you’d better promise to be careful,” you said, knowing the absurdity of your request given his line of work, but meaning it all the same.

He chuckled softly, “Fine then, deal.” He offered his hand out between you two. You took it in both your hands and the two of you shook on it, a small laugh drawn from your throat. You found yourself continuing to hold on after, tracing your fingertips across his large hand. Calloused palms and battered knuckles gave way to long, bony fingers as you marveled at the gentleness of hands that could enact such violence. Bruce watched you silently, not daring to move an inch.

His gaze caught yours and you felt yourself shrinking before those stormy eyes. They seemed to be studying you, calculating, and you were suddenly very aware of what you were doing.

“S-sorry,” you mumbled, looking down and releasing his hand, but just as quickly he tensed his hand and closed his fingers firmly around yours. Your eyes snapped back up to his and there it was again- that silent question. His other hand reached over you slowly, coming to rest behind your head. A thrill ran through you. You remembered that feeling- from your first encounter that night in the alleyway. His touch was achingly gentle this time around. You could feel him slowly pulling you towards him. Your heart pounded in your chest. You came to rest startlingly close, his forehead pressed gently against your own. His eyes were shut and you watched the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply.

That invisible barrier between the two of you was crumbling but you were afraid to ask for too much. You watched Bruce’s exhausted body slacken and drift off into sleep, his breaths slowing and his hold on you going limp.

You’d done as he’d asked. Now you’d let him sleep.

You slipped out from under Bruce’s arm and took one last look there in the dark. In sleep, his face had an ease to it you’d never seen in waking hours. He looked strange without his permanently furrowed brow, those serious eyes. You sighed and hoped he’d sleep well into tomorrow. He needed time to recover.

You left the room silently, closing the large door with a soft click. Back in your own room, you felt the ghost of him against you. You tried to get some sleep, thoughts awash with a touch gentle enough to make you cry.

#reader x battinson #reader x bruce wayne #reader x batman #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson fanfiction #bruce wayne #batman fanfiction #batman #touch starved bruce wayne #gn!reader #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #can you tell it was fun writing this chapter can you tell how soft i am at the thought of caring for this wet rat of a man

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scarthefangirl · 2 years

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You wouldn't dare

Hunger Games x fem!reader | sorry no more Clove

Description: Y/N gets picked from District 2 to fight in the hunger games.

Warnings: Starvation mentions, hardcore training, corruption, government, jerk reader

You woke up early this morning so you could get ready for the 'big day'. You washed your hair and body in the shower outside. It wasn't top notch but you were thankful for the cold water. You picked out a dress that reached just above your knees. The reaping was the worst day every year and you hated dressing up. This dress is loose, but tighter in the chest and waist. It is a peach-ish-red. You hate this dress. You and your mother picked it out last week. Your little sister is only 12, so she doesn't need to put her name in the torturous glass box as many times. She is wearing a white shirt with a red puffy skirt. Your older sister, Margret, is wearing a dress that goes to her ankles, it is a simple form fitting dress, with the same color as yours. It has off the shoulder sleeves that are very puffy. Your oldest sister is 25 and she is wearing a black shirt with a red skirt, while her 3 year old baby wears a matching outfit to her.

You hated how your mother had you all wear vivid colors such as red, yellow, lime green, ect. Those colors are expensive, you know that. But your mother wants you to be ready to be drawn. Your family is on the poorer side of the district. District 2 to be exact. But your mother acts like she can buy anything. She pays so much for your training. You worked so hard. Not because it was important to you. Because it was important to your mother. You had strong opinions on the capital. They were not positive ones.

Your family gets ready together and heads to the Hall of Justice. Your mother had begged you hundreds of times to put your name in a lot. You put it in approximately 25 times. The grain and oil will help, you suppose. You put it in a lot to please your mother, who had never got to be in the games herself. You hate the want these young men and women have to kill. It repels you. You get in the line to get your finger pricked. It doesn't hurt much. You stand in closer to the front than you would have liked. To close to the peppy Plumeria Commonstar, your district escort. She was quite the character.

As everyone takes their places, they began the video they show every year on why we have the hunger games. Its a dumb video, most likely propaganda made to fool us into compliance. I can mutter every word of the video without fail.

"Ah, I do love that film! Now, for today's events I am sure you all know what's going to happen. Ladies first, as always." Plumeria says cheerfully in her capital accent. She stuffs her gloved hand into the glass bowl. I can't wait for her to draw some rando's name and I am free from this forever, being 18. "Y/N Y/L/N! Please proceed to the stage!"

I freeze. I can't move. My muscles tighten and lock together. I feel numb. That can't be me. That can't be my name.

"Y/N, please come to the stage!"

#the hunger games #hunger games #peeta mellark #district 2 #katniss ever seen #katniss everdeen #reaping #the reaping #mockingjay #catching fire #panem

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b00ket · 3 years

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OC GUIDE

Character sheets will be added later but here’s basic information on them

This post is already long as shit so BACKSTORIES FOR EACH UNDER THE CUT and side characters will be in a reblog later

Name: Amani Ayad

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Height: 5’ 8”

Birthday: July 23rd

Age: 18-22

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Bisexual (weakness for women 😏👈🏽)

Country of Origin: Karnassos

Languages spoken: Fluent in whatever tf Vesuvians speak, Karnassi, and basic conversational skills in a handful of others

Hobbies: Partying HARD, growing plants, singing & playing Guitar/Fiddle

Magical Abilities:

Herbal Magic

Raw Magic (similar to Asra) (ill put a link that explains it in depth later)

FIREEEE

Personality:

Mischievous and mysterious. A liar. Definitely a flirt. Trust issues and a bit of a coward.

Name: Lucas Karimov

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Height: 7'

Birthday: July 10th

Age: 25-28

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Demisexual

Country of Origin: Vesuvia

Languages spoken: Vesuvian

Hobbies: Cooking/Baking, Fighting, Gambling, Politics

Magical Abilities:

Learned how to channel whatever magic he produces into bouts of extreme strength

Personality:

Outgoing. Friendly! Altruistic and loyal to a fault. Has a fear of loss. Romantically dense (good luck flirting with him). Anger issues 😳. Holds a grudge. Not white.

Name: Kieran Power

Gender: Who cares (They/Them)

Height: 5’ 8”

Birthday: time is nothing

Age: Stopped keeping track (500~ years)

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: As long as you’re hot (Pansexual)

Country of Origin: A long abandoned village in the Southern Spines

Languages Spoken: Fluent in Most Languages

Hobbies: Throwing Parties, Reading, HOMOEROTIC SWORD FIGHTS, sleeping

Magical Abilities

Magic blocked by their deal

Personality:

Dramatic and they love it. Enjoys causing others pain. Depressed but wont admit it. Quick learner and a master of manipulation. Vengeful and will hold a grudge.

Name: Donovan Nwadike

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Height: 6’ 4”

Birthday: September 20th

Age: 33-36

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Country of Origin: Nopal

Languages Spoken: Vesuvian, whatever you call the language of the Scourge

Hobbies: Sword Making, painting, sculpting

Magical Abilities:

Metal manipulation

Personality:

Quiet and reserved. Incredibly shy. Blames himself for most things that go wrong. Has the most braincells. REALLY STRONG PTSD. Self-sacrificing.

Amani Ayad

Family left Karnassos after Lucio’s murder of their mayor. Her family was labeled as cowards since.

Helped parents with a traveling doctor office. They went around the lands, healing people they come across and providing a meal. Her father helped her control her magic and mother taught her everything she needs to know about healing magic.

Helped a struggling town in the Shining Steppe. The people of that town later tried to raid their traveling doctors office. Someone shot a fire spell at the father that hit the shop instead. It exploded, killing the father and nearly killed Amani. Her mother grabbed her and escaped to a nearby abandoned shack to hide. The mother suspected they would come after the both of them and quickly gave Amani to a merchant ship. The merchant watched after her for a few months before selling her to a Pirate ship.

The crew was welcoming and caring at first, as time went on they demanded more of her (ex. cleaning the whole ship by herself instead of with the crew), and later forced her into being a fighter after discovering her magical Abilities and natural skills in fighting

Was undefeated in the ring. Gained the name “Hand of Death”

Made an attempt to kill the Captain. She failed, the Captain using a hot sword to scar her face before dumping her on the docks of Vesuvia. Was taken in by Lucas a few days later. A year later she made a home in a old abandoned apartment in the Flooded District where she grows herbs and heals anyone who catches her in her shop.

Now she tries to run from her past, replacing it with a new reputation. A party crasher, thief, general nuisance to law enforcement.

Lucas Karimov

Grandparents and Mother were refugees from the genocide of the Kokhuri. The mother fell in love and had 4 children.

They made a home in Vesuvia. Opening up a restaurant/bar called “The Iron Clad Owl”

Were generally poor (giving away free food/giving people money). Lived in a 2 bedroom apartment with Grandparents, 2 aunts, 6 children, parents, 2 dogs, and a parrot named stick

It was a crowded but homey house. They all slept in a giant cuddle pile. It was cute as SHIT

The siblings were all older than Lucas and liked the cause trouble to law enforcement, hang out with orphans and shop for food for da parents. The whole family hated Lucio and his rule from the rip. The aunts often participated in politics and 100% ranted to the children about government. Near the end of Lucio’s rule is when things went off the deep end.

During his rule: Oldest Brother falls into the Canal, dies of blood loss. The only sister was robbed (killed when she tried to fight back).

The plague: The Parents and brother die of the plague, the aunts flee out of fear of dying. Lucas takes up a job as a grave digger to keep the shop open shortly after. A brother gets involved in crime as a hitman. Jargal (brother) steals some food, gets caught and fights against the Scourge as a result.

After Lucio’s death: The brother is attacked by a revenge hitman, he is killed and the grandparents both die in the confrontation. Lucas sells the pets in a last ditch attempt to keep the shop open, the shop is closed. Lucas spirals into a depression, mentally stuck in a numbness that is only punctuated by bouts of anger and irritability. Finds a abandoned cat and adopts her. Befriends Amani.

Now he works as a dock worker, trying to heal old wounds and make lasting change in Vesuvia that finally serves the people.

Kieran Power

Works for a rich family. Is picked on and abused by their employers and other citizens in the village. The mayor’s daughter dies of “an illness” and they blame Kieran & their mother, saying they placed a hex on her.

Kieran’s mother is hung and Kieran escapes the same fate, running to hide in an old shed. A strong winter storm swoops in, trapping Kieran in there without food or warmth. Kieran discovers the body of the daughter with a knife in her heart. Kieran burns hot with rage and a need for revenge.

The Devil appears and offers to make a deal, to give Kieran the power to kill their enemies in exchange for a portion of their soul. Its a self enacted deal, sell a bit more if their soul for more power.

The technicalities of the deal: At least once a week Kieran needs to eat a person (collection of their soul). Without a meal their blood runs cold, the hunger grows, and when it hits a peak they become a beast. This can only be reversed with more than one human sacrifice.

They’ve been alive for centuries. They’ve seen and been subject to abuse that is only solved with more power. They only have a sliver of their soul left, instead choosing to gain power traditionally in the past few years. Gaining money and a powerful reputation. Has lost faith in humanity and believes they are better than them.

Hosts parties as an easy way to get a victim to eat. Really into sword collecting, befriending Donovan and has soft feelings for him.

Is always trying to gain power.

Donovan Nwadike (backstory in development)

Abandoned as a newborn in Vesuvia. Grew up as an orphan.

Thinks he is purposeless, joins a gang of orphans and becomes the punching bag/pushover of the group. Has a small book that he draws in.

Joins Lucio is his army (assuming Lucio has made attempts to expand the “Vesuvian Empire”) and befriends the lead medic.

Becomes a sword maker for Lucio’s army and eventually becomes a solider on the field. A sword to the eye takes his vision in one eye and a magical blast takes off his right arm.

He carries the weight of his actions, people he’s killed, people he couldn’t save on his shoulders. Tries to bring his friends back in a magical ritual, it fails. The ghosts of his friends haunt him, whispering and visible only to him.

Runs a blacksmith shop, his main customer is Kieran who enjoys his sword designs and paintings.

#amanidelaoc #lucasdelaoc #kierandelaoc #donovandelaoc #will be updated as i go

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zehecatl · 3 years

Text

rec post for @f-eef that got too long for its own good, and is now just. a general rec post i guess

(as of writing, today is the steam summer sale! writing this before that goes live, so no guarantee everything on here is on sale, but! most of these are older games, so it’s likely. keep them in mind~)

- Iconoclasts my absolute favourite game, ever (along with OFF, but shh), if you check out one game from this list, let it be this one. it’s a genuinely almost flawless package, with gorgeous pixel art, fun gameplay, a really good story, and a cast of characters i just. adore. it’s so so so good, and three years later, i’m still not over it

- The Binding of Isaac so there’s this genre called roguelikes, wherein the whole gimmick is that, when you die, you gotta start from the Very Beginning; and the ‘point’ is getting better and better at the game, until you win! it’s super easy to just, play a few runs (they generally don’t last that long!), and then go on with your day, so it’s a really fun game to just waste time in, if you just wanna chill with some game. and, in my personal opinion, Isaac is the best roguelike game, with so much stuff to unlock, a whole slew of items to play with, and so much content it’s kind of unreal. i definitely think the DLCs are worth picking up, but it’s mostly for more content than like. actually being necessary

- Terraria it’s minecraft, but 2D. unlike MC, it’s got a bit of guidance, which i personally prefer, with bosses to fight and such. an absolutely BLAST with other people too

- A Hat in Time a 3D platformer, ala Mario, that’s just. super charming. it’s also really fun to play. i haven’t actually played the DLC’s, since i played it way back, but i’ve heard good things about Nyakuza Metro, which does look super slick, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- Slime Rancher you are a slime rancher. you ranch slimes. it’s honestly just wholesome as hell, and just exudes happy vibes. mostly for running around and collecting slimes, ngl

- The Messenger really funky retro game, wherein you play a ninja on a mission. it’s primary draw is definitely in its gameplay, but there’s a surprising amount of story for this kind of genre? i honestly really just like this one. it’s neat

- Underhero you play as a cute minion, who kind of like. managed to kill the hero. and whoops, guess you’re doing his job now? it’s got that undertale vibe, though i’d say it’s less polished than it. HOWEVER, it’s absolutely lovely and it’s climax is REALLY good

- Hatoful Boyfriend bird dating sim. trust me. the ‘secret’ finale route is just. *chef’s kiss* fantastic

- Night in the Woods if you don’t mind having a very poignant sad time, oh my god, i could not recommend NITW more. it perfectly captures that period when you’re done with school, and suddenly your whole life is stretching before you, and you feel so so fucking lost, and overwhelmed and pained with it. it’s just. so good. a sadness worth experiencing

- Shovel Knight another retro game! this one is, pretty much, the king of the genre, and for very good reasons. the first one (shovel of hope) doesn’t have much story, but the latter ones really add on it. they’re honestly just, really solid games! with funky knight characters!!!

- Hyper Light Drifter man, it’s just a masterpiece. everything about it is perfect. it’s been like, five years, and it’s still one of the very best indie games

- Tell Me Why it’s currently free for june! and it’s a story game! plus, if you like the genre, the devs got the ‘Life Is Strange’ serie(s) to delve into!

- Cat Quest honestly, i just really like this little game. the gameplay is SO much fun, and everything else is just. really charming :’)

- Yoku’s Island Express metroidvania, where you play as a dung-beetle post officer, and the gimmick is that it’s pinball-y! it’s really fun, and very cute and just an all around good time :)

- Owlboy you play as an owl boy! named Otus! and you can fly around, and there’s GORGEOUS pixel graphics, and a neat story, and just. the BEST cast of characters. it’s delightful

- Yuppie Psycho + Count Lucanor just gonna bundle these two together, because they’re both REALLY GOOD. YP is the newer one, and is therefore probably ‘the better one’, but i like them both a ton! they’re 2D horror, but i wouldn’t say they’re that spooky? though that might just be because they’re pixel games! you explore spooky place, and weird stuff happens around you. just a really fun time :)

- Angels of Death my FAVOURITE rpgmaker game, it’s main draw is, a 100%, the main characters and the relationship that develops between them. i just love it a whole lot, and it’s got that lil’ tinge of horror that i, personally, fucking adore. there’s actually an anime based on this, but i haven’t seen it myself!

- Celeste curve ball! it’s a 2D platformer! it’s really good, got a ton of accessibility features, and has like. the tightest gameplay- and, on top of that, surprisingly emotional story!

- Bastion putting Bastion here, because it’s actually the only one i’ve properly played, but you could probably buy any of the Supergiant Games, and come out satisfied. Bastion is the oldest of the bunch, and is definitely a bit less polished for it, but i personally adore it; the gameplay probably hasn’t aged that well, but i think the story and presentation more than makes up for it

- The Darkside Detective funny point and click adventure, with great wit, and a pair of characters i kind of simply adore. it’s main draw is definitely its humour

- Littlewood very wholesome and chill farming game, that feels more like an RPG than something like stardew valley- i’d not recommend it over SV, but if you want more of SV, Littlewood might scratch that itch!

- Pony Island + The Hex absolutely adore both of these, though if i had to rec only one, it’d probably be Pony Island? they’ve both got that undertale-off vibe, though Pony Island definitely leans harder into it. very interesting plays, both of them

- Oxenfree another horror-ish game! primarily story-focused, but oh boy, what a story! i’m a BIG fan of this game, and the sequel was recently announced too! definitely worth a look if you like ghost shenanigans

- Creature in the Well wasn’t a 100% sure if i should rec this, but beside the finale boss, i really enjoyed my time with this! it’s this weird pinball inspired hack and slash, with some amazing vibes

- Kindergarten 1 + 2 they’re just fun little games okay. the 2nd is much more fleshed out, but the 1st one is really fun too

- the Henry Stickmin collection I JUST... LIKE THESE GAMES A LOT... i think you can find the old versions somewhere on the internet, if you wanna check them out first? idk, they’re fun!

- LIMBO + INSIDE personally, i like INSIDE more, but both of these are classics, and also they’re made by a danish team, and i like them a WHOLE LOT

- The Final Station i could not tell you why i like this game as much as i do, but oh my god. i love this game? it’s got a dying world, neat pixel graphics, big zombie apocalypse vibes, and a weird little story

- Year Walk i love Year Walk :)

- Smile For Me if you liked undertale’s lovely cast of characters, oh boy, you’d likely LOVE this game! it’s really, really, fantastic, and the epilogue (not in the actual game lol) hit me right in the feels

- Pikuniku just a fun little game! there’s not really much there, in the grand scheme of things, but it’s a wonderful little play, one of those games that just sets out to give you a good time, and absolutely success. i like it a lot :’)

- A Short Hike wonderful game, where it’s more about exploring the island than actively finishing the game. it’s real wonderful

- ULTRAKILL ANOTHER CURVEBALL! no idea if you like FPS, but oh my god. ULTRAKILL is so fucking good. just an absolute blast to play. there’s a demo to check out, and i’d definitely recommend it, because if it’s a genre you might like, you’ll love this one (OH also it’s in early access, which means it’s not finished yet! personally, i don’t mind that, especially considering this is more gameplay focused, but ya’ know!)

- My Friend Pedro it’s honestly just really fun to play, and sometimes i still think about the implied lore, and go all !!!!

- Little Misfortune another point and click! this one is pretty short, and is set within the same universe as their other game, Fran Bow, which is much bigger, but idk. i like this one. it’s dark cute

- This Strange Realm of Mine i honestly dunno how to explain this one, because it’s kind of weird and a bit odd, but i really like it, in all its weird poetic glory. it’s neat!

- Donut County you’re a terrible racoon who’s ruined the whole city with holes. it’s great and i love it

- OneShot another ‘gives me undertale vibes’, though this one was in development before UT, if i recall correctly! it’s so good, and it’s got some fantastic meta bits, and i love Niko. i love Niko so much

- Inmost gorgeous vaguely spooky game with a neat story... my favourite genre

- Sayonara Wild Hearts i’d call this more of a spectacle than anything else, but oh my god. what a spectacle it is! the OST is amazing, everything about it just hits right, and even if you suck at the gameplay (which i did), it really doesn’t matter, in my opinion? it’s just great all around!

#ze.txt #the sale likely just went live so #steam sale #hope there's something here to your taste feef!#i honestly haven't been playing any 'real' games in. A WHILE? so all of these are older-ish #and there's a bunch of good new games out there!#but here's my little rec post of older games :')#that i have. actually played #i think inmost is the only one i never finished? plus TECHNICALLY oneshot since it got a BIG update after i played it but shhhh #also TECHNICALLY also ultrakill but that's in ea so it doesn't count okay #i just love ultrakill so much. i had to rec it. I HAD TO #also keep in mind some of these probably require a mouse!! i know ultrakill DEF does #but you might have one?? i usually play on my big pc so i. would not know #oh also DST does have a single player version which is very good also

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otonymous · 4 years

Text

Kissed By The Baddest CEO (MLQC Victor x KBTBB - NSFW)

Description: Old flames and prospective lovers threaten to derail your budding romance with Victor before it even begins. How will you extricate yourselves from a web of misunderstandings?

Warnings:

NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Potential Trigger Warnings: profanity, jealousy, angst, exes, mentions of alcohol, bone fetishes, rough sex, 69 sex position (oral sex), mirror sex, vaginal intercourse, swallowing, size kink

Mild spoilers for Victor’s family history (MLQC); slight bending of MLQC & KBTBB canon universes via creation of original side character

Word Count: ~10K words (please set aside a good chunk of time for some fluff, angst and smut 🤣)

Author’s Notes:

First of all, a GIANT thank you to the super gracious @lin-ful for commissioning this Victor piece from me. You are an absolute joy to work with and I really appreciate the fact that you gave me carte blanche to basically do whatever I wanted 🤣 I really hope you enjoy the read! (P.S. I would never be so sadistic as to ever make you choose between Victor and Eisuke, so please rest easy 😆)

This story is especially significant to me as a writer because it represents the culmination of a number of milestones: the first time I’ve created an original character, my first attempt at writing a crossover story, the first time I’ve written in both first- and second-person perspectives. It is also the longest single piece I’ve ever written. That being said, please note the warnings listed above and happy reading! 😊

Nb. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1: Hello Diana

“Really Vic, I thought you were beyond name calling by now.”

Her voice is sultry and low, smooth in your ears like the whiskey in her tumbler. Completely at ease in a couture Givenchy pantsuit that likely cost more than one of your production budgets, she sat with her legs elegantly crossed in a leather armchair, tipping her glass to vermillion lips. And as the flames danced in the imposing marble fireplace of one of Shanghai’s oldest and most exclusive supper clubs, they reflected off an enormous ruby ring gracing her middle finger.

Victor scoffs, taking a sip of his own whisky and glancing at you as you follow suit with the virgin cocktail he ordered on your behalf while you were in the restroom.

He was so infuriating at times, but at least it wasn’t warmed milk.

“First of all, you weren’t meant to hear that. Secondly, I hardly consider ‘dummy’ name calling. Far worse exists when it comes to options, as I'm sure you can attest to, Diana. You’ve used quite a few in your day.”

Amusement spreads across her fine features as she throws her head back in laughter, the sound enticing even as it disrupts the low chatter in the room. However, none of the men looking her way seemed to mind. She was brimming with so much joie de vivre that even you weren’t immune to her charms, smiling despite the anxiety that sat heavy in your chest from the very moment Victor introduced you to Diana Shum that evening.

You didn’t quite know why you felt ill at ease, especially towards someone who was doing you a favour by brokering a major deal on behalf of your company. Well, more like doing Victor a favour, since he was the one who made the request. Perhaps this was how all men felt in the presence of such a woman: elegantly confident and unapologetically vivacious, drawing attention everywhere she went.

“Are you still dredging up stories from our Oxford days, Victor? Not very gentlemanly of you. How do you put up with him?” Diana turns to wink at you and the spotlight of her attention makes you feel like the only other person in the room. “Let me assure you those boys deserved every insult in the book; one-track minds and transparent to boot. They should consider themselves lucky I even acknowledged their sad existence.”

“Di, you made the Prime Minister’s son cry. You should’ve seen those puffy eyes the next morning at the swim meet against Cambridge."

Victor raises his brows, subtle amusement colouring his expression. And simple though it was, the sight of his handsome face so transformed by the faint smile on his lips made your heart race.

No, there’s no way. It’s probably just the fatigue catching up to you. The flight to Shanghai from Loveland City must’ve been more taxing than you initially thought, even though Victor had graciously offered to let you hitch a ride on his private jet. You place a hand on your chest, trying to calm the frenzied rhythm of your heart. The gesture goes unnoticed by Diana but Victor throws a worried glance in your direction. You smile to ease his concerns. He furrows his brows.

“Oh please, I should’ve ripped him a new one with the way he tried to get frisky on our date. He’s lucky I didn’t call Soryu to deal with him and his wandering hands.”

A sudden change seeps into Victor’s eyes, dark irises softening as if focused on something miles away. “Soryu. How is your cousin doing, by the way?”

Diana leans back, taking another sip of her drink. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough. I take it you are accompanying this lovely producer to Tokyo to meet with Eisuke and wherever the Ichinomiya heir is, Soryu isn’t far behind. In all honesty though, Vic, surely you would know better than I. Weren’t the three of you thick as thieves during prep school?”

You perk up at the topic of Victor’s childhood. It was a rare chance to learn about the formative years of this stone-faced man before he became the slave driver of Loveland Financial Group.

“I was only there for a year and a half with Soryu and Eisuke before…before my mother passed. My father sent for me shortly afterwards. I haven't seen them since.”

Deep voice trailing off, Victor’s gaze shifts to the fireplace where it remains, as if hypnotized by the flicker of orange flames. And as the silence stretches on, you become disconcerted to see him so uncharacteristically lost in his thoughts. You reach out to touch him but Diana beats you to it, laying a delicate hand on top of his much larger one as it rests on the leather armrest.

The gesture is ridiculously small for how much it blindsides you — the sight of her hand on Victor’s dazzling like the light reflecting off her ruby ring.

He blinks at the touch, long lashes fluttering in the split-second it takes for him to compose himself and suddenly, the unflappable CEO is back again.

“I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and we should probably call it a night. But you have my thanks, Diana, for setting up this meeting with the Ichinomiya Group.”

It was Diana’s turn to scoff. “Can we please dispense with the formalities, Victor? Soryu mentioned Eisuke was having difficulty finding the right people to make this documentary on the anniversary of his Tres Spades Tokyo hotel, so it was serendipity that we bumped into each while on business in London. It’s a win-win situation. Meant to be.”

Meant to be.

There is a spark of something in Diana’s eyes when she makes that last statement. It stays with you long after you part ways with Victor for the night, lying awake in your hotel room as you wondered whether the LFG CEO was already asleep in his.

Chapter 2: SOS

“You’re awfully quiet. Should I take this to mean that you already know everything about Eisuke Ichinomiya and his chain of luxury hotels?"

Victor speaks without raising his head, leafing through the documents on his lap and stopping periodically to leave his signature with the same gold pen that marked up your reports. Its barrel glowed warm, reflecting the soft lights of the cabin of his private jet, en route to Tokyo from Shanghai.

Letting out a shaky breath, you try to steel yourself despite the rising heat in your cheeks. Because after a night spent tossing and turning in your hotel room, you arrived at a conclusion so absurd it could only be true:

You were in love with Victor Li.

Against all odds, the bane of your life had become your biggest ally and mentor. All the pieces of the square puzzle that was the LFG CEO had fallen into place to form one coherent and beautiful picture:

His exacting demands transformed into standards of excellence, his workaholism a paragon of commitment and dedication.

And though you were loathe to admit it, each soft utterance of “dummy” leaving his lips made the corners of yours turn up in the goofiest of grins.

Oh god, how did it ever come to this?! Where and when along the rocky path of your working relationship with the slave driver did you fall in love with him? But that wasn’t even the worst of it. If your intuition about the previous night’s events served you well, the beautiful Diana Shum was also enamoured of him.

You turn to Victor, meaning to inform him with utmost confidence that you had already conducted extensive research on the Ichinomiya Group’s charismatic CEO and his chain of casino hotels. You even thought to throw in a snarky reminder that he himself had been marginally impressed with the presentation you gave on the topic back in Loveland City.

“Are you close to Diana Shum?”

Was NOT what had you meant to ask. Especially in a voice that cracked like a 12 year old pubescent boy’s. And if there was a way by which you could’ve drowned in a bottle of water, you would’ve gladly done so. Instead, you settle for gulping it down, trying to keep your stupid mouth from spewing more nonsense in front of the man who was your de facto boss.

“Ahem.” Victor clears his throat, long legs uncrossing as he shifts in his seat. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch the muscles of that chiseled jaw settling firm.

“I-I’m so sorry. It’s none of my business. You don’t have to answer-"

“I’ve known her for a while, if that’s what you’re asking. She’s a classmate from university and also a cousin of a friend of mine from prep school, as you’ve probably gathered from yesterday’s conversation. Since graduation, she’s taken over her father’s role as CEO of Shum Property Developments and we’ve partnered periodically on various business ventures…”

He continues and you nod at the appropriate times, half listening as a million thoughts filtered through your head: your surprise at how unusually verbose Victor was being, the relief you felt to see that he was as determined to avoid your gaze as you were his. Because the truth was that the longer he went on about Diana — so beautiful, polished and charming that you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate her even if you tried — the harder it was to keep the clouds from darkening your face. And when Victor says,

“Not like it has any bearing on anything now, but we also dated for a short period of time…”

…It hurts to breathe.

Finally turning in your direction, Victor fixes you with a scrutinizing gaze. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, um, I just…wanted to know a bit more about the person who helped me and my company. So I can better thank her later.”

You speak without meeting his eyes, hoping to placate him with a quick smile as you pretend to rummage through your purse. Thankfully, he drops the topic, returning to his documents. And though the rest of the plane ride is spent in near silence, the thoughts in your head have never been so loud.

Chapter 3: Sexy Bones [Victor]

She wore that dress today. The same one she had on when she impudently stormed my office to insist that I give her company a final chance before pulling funding:

Fitted to conform to every curve, yet formal enough to be professional. Beautifully sensual in her usual understated way. My favourite shade of red.

“It’s my go-to outfit when I need a confidence boost,” she told me once in between bites of pudding at Souvenir. “It makes me feel like a queen, like I can do no wrong. Perfect for business meetings I just have to nail, you know?”

“Dummy,” I had said then, feigning dismissiveness so she wouldn’t pick up on the way my eyes kept drifting towards her lips, so soft and plush I couldn’t help but wonder if her kisses would carry a hint of caramel sweetness.

It was true that the girl could be incredibly dense at times, playing at being queen when she already ruled my heart. Or how oblivious she was to the fact that the British doctor was completely smitten with her during today’s meeting at the Tres Spades Tokyo hotel.

Dr. Luke Foster.

Completely absorbed in reading through what looked to be like a stack of medical journals, Dr. Foster had largely ignored us while Eisuke and Soryu made quick work of introducing the eclectic mix of other associates in the room:

Ota Kisaki, the so-called “Angelic Artist” whose work I was well-acquainted with, having previously spent a small fortune on his painting, Koro of My Kokoro.

Baba Mitsunari, a charming man whose handsome features were made all the more striking by the black fedora and red suit he wore. The girl pointed out that he bore an uncanny resemblance to the cashier we saw at a convenience store earlier that day and I had to agree.

They glossed over a man named Mamoru Kishi, apparently sound asleep in one corner of the room with his face covered by a newspaper and a full ashtray by his side.

Finally, they came to Luke Foster, a blond-haired man with the air of an English gentleman. Eisuke explained that Dr. Foster was the hotel’s on-site physician as well as a fellow alumnus of our prep school, apparently having left for reasons no one wanted to articulate the year before I transferred in.

And when the doctor finally looked up at us from his readings, his eyes took on an almost maniacal quality to see the girl standing by my side.

“Those proportions, those angles….perfect…absolutely perfect!” He exclaimed as if in a daze, standing up suddenly and causing the reading materials to spill from his lap in the process.

He looked completely unhinged, almost like a zombie as he reached out a pale hand towards her collarbones of all places. I stepped in front of her on reflex, only to have the doctor fix me with a piercing gaze as if he had just become aware of my existence and found it thoroughly offensive.

“Annnnd there he goes again,” Ota’s tone was one of exasperation, but there was no mistaking the amusement in the smirk that spread wide across his face.

“Ooh, Lu’s got a new victim! Maybe now he can finally stop staring at the Boss’s girl every time she comes in to clean the penthouse!” Baba chimes in, fingers stroking at his chin as if hatching some mischievous plan.

“Will the lot of ya shaddup!? I’m tryin’ to sleep over here…zzz…” The man with the papers over his head gave a muffled shout before promptly rolling over onto his side.

Soryu just sighed, running a hand over his face. And just when I began to worry that the girl was scared out of her wits, having wandered into this strange den of wolves, she surprised me by chuckling under her breath.

Did the dummy find this funny?

“Tch, ignore them, Victor. Let’s just get on with the presentation,” Eisuke said as he took his seat at the head of a long table. The girl straightened up and immediately got to work, transforming into the consummate professional she always was when it came down to business. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as I watched her nail her pitch.

Taking a surreptitious glance around at her rapt audience, I stopped at Luke. The intensity of the doctor's stare made me uneasy, the way those blue-grey eyes hovered above the scooped neckline of her red dress, tracing along her collarbones as if he were caressing them with his gaze alone. I mentally berated myself for not putting my suit jacket over her shoulders before she got up there.

And though it was spoken under his breath, Dr. Foster’s murmur of “sexy bones” rang loud and clear in my ears.

Chapter 4: In A (Traffic) Jam [Victor]

“Victor, you won’t believe my luck! Not only did we cinch the Ichinomiya account, I also found the perfect candidate to appear on our Mystery Finder show!”

The girl was practically breathless on the other end of the line, words jumbling together as they came a mile a minute. And though her enthusiasm is as infectious as it is adorable, I remind myself to play it cool. “Really. And who might that be?”

“Dr. Foster!”

HONK!

I swerve back into my lane on reflex, narrowly avoiding an accident as the driver next to me flips me the bird before speeding away. My heart raced, beating fiercely against the cage of my chest, but it had little to do with my near brush with death.

At this moment, I was more concerned with a man who looked like Death himself.

“Oh my god, Victor, what was that? Are you okay?” The concern in her voice is palpable and it makes me think of how kind and tenderhearted she is, of how easily someone could exploit that to their advantage. “This is a bad time, isn’t it? I’m so sorry, I’ll call you ba-”

“Don’t worry about it, just some idiot not paying attention on the road. And what's this about, ahem, Dr. Foster?" The name itself was unsavoury, sticking in my throat until I spat it out. I hoped the vitriol escaped her notice.

“Okay Victor, get this: it’s like the man has X-ray vision!”

She whispers for dramatic effect, and my grip tightens on the steering wheel as I picture those slate grey eyes sweeping over the curves of her body, a lewd expression falling over the doctor’s features. He was a handsome enough man, that much was true; intelligent and a first-rate surgeon according to Eisuke and Soryu. Goldman confirmed as much when I had him dig up all available information on Luke Foster. On that basis alone, many women would find him to be an extremely attractive suitor and ludicrous though it is, I can’t help but think the worst. Luke had been quite open in his admiration of her, especially her collarbones. What if she returned the sentiment?

In retrospect, it was a horrible idea to leave her to her work (and that wolf) in Tokyo while I returned to mine in Loveland City. While she had the company of her coworkers, clearly none of them sensed the danger in Luke Foster that I did. I no longer had the right to call her a dummy when I was obviously the idiot here.

“I’m telling you Victor, he can just look at somebody and tell you everything about their bone structure. It’s too accurate to just be guesswork! Apparently, he can remember anyone he's ever laid eyes on based on their bones. It’s incredible. I’d love for Professor Lucien to meet him. If only he had the time to fly out to Tokyo…”

The girl continues and I catch sight of my furrowed brows in the rear-view mirror, deepening the longer she goes on and on about men who weren’t me.

“…He’s already agreed to be a guest on the show! But…he did make a rather strange request."

For a moment, I can barely breathe. The skin over my knuckles blanches as it stretches tight, my grip on the wheel growing harder as I brace for unwelcome news. God knows what she would’ve agreed to in my absence. Filled with a sense of dread, I had to know all the same. “Which was?…”

She pauses, the hitch in her breath subtle but speaking volumes nonetheless.

“Just say it, dummy.” I soften my tone in encouragement though my mind was already racing, thinking of all the ways my legal team could dissolve a contract should the girl have already signed papers.

“Well, he…he asked if he could examine my body in lieu of payment for appearing on the show. You should’ve seen him! He was so desperate he was practically begging and I…I just couldn't say no."

MOTHERFUCK!

Chapter 5: Role Model

“STUPID VICTOR LI!”

You had meant to throw the rolled-up magazine in dramatic rock star fashion, sending it flying across your suite at the Tres Spades Tokyo hotel to give at least a resounding smack as it hits the wall. Instead, it flutters to the carpeted floor, barely a few feet from where you lay sprawled out on a bed much too large for a single person.

And from the surface of that glossy cover, Victor’s handsome face — all sharp eyes and chiseled jaw - staring up at you from beneath a headline that read: "Man On Top: How Victor Li Conquered The Business World.”

Man on top. What a tease if there ever was one — especially since you’ve developed the recent habit of falling asleep to the fantasy of having the broad expanse of Victor’s muscular chest hovering over you.

“The only thing he should be on top of is ME!”

Your voice echoes in the room, empty save for you. Even still, your cheeks burned from embarrassment over the absurdity of your current situation. Victor Li didn’t belong to you. Not when he had someone like Diana in his life.

Victor and Diana. Diana and Victor. A perfect match regardless of how the pieces fit. And for an instant, your anger flares to remember the nonchalance in Victor’s voice when he told you that their past history as lovers had no bearing on the present, as if they didn’t look like they belonged together when you saw them just now in the lobby of the hotel, moments after you purchased the magazine with Victor’s face gracing the cover from one of the shops.

Practically ecstatic in your surprise to see him there at the Tres Spades, you were just about to call out to him when his name died in your throat, choked by the sight of the woman at his side. Victor was escorting Diana to a limo waiting just beyond the revolving doors. And the last thing you saw before the chauffeur pulled away was the two of them slipping into the vehicle together.

He hadn’t even told you he was coming to Tokyo.

It was only after you became aware of the fact that you were blocking the entrance to the shop that you recovered from the shock, murmuring apologies as you pulled yourself together just enough to make your way back to the safety of your hotel room.

Rising up off the bed, your feet sink into the lush carpeting as you pad over to where the magazine lay. You pick it up and smooth out the crinkles, fingers tracing the outline of Victor’s profile as you do — gentle, as if you were touching the man himself. And when your nose begins to tingle, you know it won’t be long before you feel the familiar sting of tears behind your eyes.

“Think you could stop being so nice to me, Victor? You’ll give a girl the wrong impression.”

Heaving a sigh, you slip the magazine beneath a pillow on the bed. A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table told you it was almost time for your dinner date with Dr. Foster. Sitting around moping wasn’t an option, at least not tonight. Lightly slapping your cheeks, you push the image of Victor and Diana out of your head and get ready to step into the shower.

Chapter 6: Hard To Swallow [Victor]

“I’m glad you remembered that you owe me a dinner, Victor Li. And though I practically had to drag you to this restaurant, I guess the means don’t really matter if the end result is the same. But still, what a lucky coincidence that we bumped into each other again at the Tres Spades of all places. Now that’s something to drink to.”

Diana holds up her glass, Cabernet Sauvignon swirling as it meets mine with a delicate clink. Under the table, the tip of her stiletto pushes against my oxfords before sliding past my ankle, inching its way up my leg. I pull away, watching those red lips spread into a smile as I do.

“You might be the first man who’s ever been able to resist me. Has anyone ever told you you’re one stubborn asshole?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She laughs at that, taking another sip of her wine before setting it down. “So, tell me about her.”

“Her?” I focus on cutting into my Kobe beef, already aware that Diana will see through my bluff. She always did.

“Surely there must be another woman if you keep turning me down over and over again, Victor. A girl has her pride too, you know.”

“We are not getting back together, Diana.”

“Tsk, you’re no fun, Vic. All work and no play, all the time. I’ll have to remind myself of that the next time I start entertaining thoughts of calling you up again.”

She pouts, but it isn’t long before her eyes take on that familiar spark of mischief as she continues.

“But seriously, tell me about your cute little producer. That is the girl you keep rejecting me for, I presume. I need to know about the woman who’s finally managed to infiltrate the entirety of Victor Li’s notoriously impenetrable heart. She must be quite the lover if she’s got you wrapped around her little finger like that, pulling strings with all your friends left, right and centre.”

It annoys me to no end that the mere mention of the girl is enough to reduce me to a swooning idiot. I fight to keep the smile off my face.

“You’ve got the wrong idea. She’s not my lover.”

Diana begins to protest, but her words are lost on me because I’ve stopped listening. In fact, the only thing I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears, propelled by the adrenaline racing through my veins to see him enter the restaurant.

Dr. Luke Foster.

WITH MY DUMMY, NO LESS.

And my dummy looks…absolutely gorgeous. Her hair is done up, leaving her graceful neck and collarbones exposed in a little black dress I’ve never seen her wear before, I realize with not an insignificant amount of jealousy.

But wait…collarbones?!

Sure enough, that surgeon is staring at her clavicle like some kind of pervert. The sight alone incites the beginnings of a dull throbbing in my temples, no doubt exacerbated by the vice-like clench of my jaws.

I follow them with my gaze as they are led to a table for two; fixate on Luke’s face even as the sommelier arrives to make his recommendations to the pair. The doctor stares at my girl like he couldn’t care less about the meal, as if the only thing he hungered for was precisely what I myself had desired for so long: the woman. And she—

Just looked my way.

Surprise etches itself onto her beautiful features — the brows I had dreamt of one day lightly running a fingertip over while she sleeps lifting into a delicate arch. And why shouldn’t she be surprised? I had given her no indication that I had rushed over to Tokyo from Loveland City as soon as I heard what Luke had requested of her.

But there is no nod of acknowledgement, no smile in greeting. Just her, looking away as if she hadn’t seen me at all, her smile apologetic when she retrains her attention on the doctor. And while it was only for a fraction of a second, I could have sworn her eyes carried a hint of sorrow.

Or perhaps I’m projecting.

Because her obvious avoidance feels like a rebuff, a sucker punch to the gut. She’s never blatantly ignored me like that, no matter how wound up she was even during those times when I verbally tore her sub-par proposals to shreds. The feeling of rejection sits heavy on my chest, the tie around my neck much too tight.

“Victor, are you all right?”

Diana’s voice cuts through my thoughts. She is looking at me curiously. I reach for my glass of wine, suddenly feeling like I was on the verge of choking. “Of course, what could possibly be wrong?”

“ ‘What’s wrong’ is the fact that you haven’t listened to a single word I’ve said for the past ten minutes. Even if there’s no chance we’ll ever get back together again as you so adamantly insist, the least you could do is pay attention to the person you’re sharing a meal with.”

I take a deep breath, more than a little disconcerted by the girl’s ability to affect me. “Of course. My apologies, you’re absolutely right. Please, continue.”

Across the candlelit table, I look Diana in the eye, resolved to keep up at least the pretence of being interested in what she had to say when all I wanted to do was storm the table where Luke sat with my girl. With each sideways glance in their direction, my grip tightened on my utensils to see them chatting, seemingly engrossed in the world’s most interesting conversation.

And when she hands over a manila envelope to the doctor, my heart skips a beat.

Could it be…marriage documents?!

One tiny corner of my brain berates me for how ridiculous I am being but when it comes to her, I simply can’t help it, and the fantasy in which I casually stroll over, flip the table onto Luke Foster and steal my girl away in a bridal carry becomes so vivid in my mind’s eye, it almost seems like a good idea.

Diana excuses herself to use the restroom and I pounce on the opportunity to send the dummy a text:

“MEET ME AT THE BAR IN THE TRES SPADES HOTEL IN AN HOUR. DON’T BE LATE.”

Chapter 7: Choked Up

“Is there something wrong, Dr. Foster? You haven’t touched your meal.”

You do your best to school your expression into one of polite neutrality as you take in the strange sight of the pale, blond-haired man shaking out an alarming number of pills onto the palm of his hand, tapping loudly on a bottle seemingly produced out of nowhere. He pops them all into his mouth at once and you pray you won’t have to perform the Heimlich maneuver as he chases them down with a few gulps of water.

A smile spreads across the doctor’s lips as his eyes fall upon your collarbones once more. You were used to feeling like a third wheel by now, even when alone with Luke Foster, given his penchant for carrying on conversations while staring intently at your bones. But you took no offence at his behaviour, especially after Baba’s attempts to give you insight into Luke’s peculiar mannerisms:

“Try not to take it personal, Miss. Lu will look at anyone who’s got beautiful collarbones. It’s a well-known fact that he’s obsessed with the boss’s - he's even framed the X-ray films of Eisuke’s bones. He likely just wants yours to add to his collection.”

Strange though it was, the request that Luke be allowed to have X-rays films of your collarbones in exchange for appearing on Miracle Finder was innocent enough. Certainly nothing that warranted the stony silence you received on the other end of the line when you called Victor the other day to tell him that Dr. Foster wanted to examine you. After a brusque “I have to go,” he had hung up. No goodbyes, not even a mutter of “dummy.”

But Luke Foster had been nothing short of a perfect gentleman, never once laying a hand on you. Moreover, he even insisted on paying for tonight’s meal despite the fact that you had invited him as thanks for appearing on the show.

“Please, just call me Luke. Vitamins and water are all I need to survive. I only ordered because Eisuke said it might be awkward if you seemed to be the only one dining.”

“I-I see.” You smile, taking another bite of wagyu. And for a moment, you are too wrapped up in the blissful way it seemed to melt on your tongue to be disconcerted by the strange events of the evening.

You weren’t, however, too distracted to continue throwing surreptitious glances in Victor’s direction, fighting to keep composed each time Diana’s laughter carried over to your table. What were the chances that you’d find yourselves at the same restaurant in all of Tokyo? You know that he knows you are here; even Chik couldn’t put on a performance convincing enough for the LFG CEO to believe for a second that you didn’t see him.

With your dismal acting skills, you definitely didn’t stand a chance.

“You’re in love with him.”

COUGH, COUGH!

You clear the steak lodged in the back of your throat with a few hacking coughs, half of your face hidden behind your napkin as you tried to be as discreet as possible, the words “Death by Wagyu” flashing through your mind. After soothing your throat with a sip of wine, you ask:

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re in love with that man sitting just over there with the woman dressed in red. That Victor fellow who accompanied you to that first meeting with Eisuke.”

For someone who seemed to pay very little attention to matters that didn’t concern bones, Luke Foster was surprisingly perceptive. Or maybe you weren’t as discrete as you thought you were and it was obvious to all but yourself that you were staring at the golden couple.

“I…how did you...what makes you—”

“Please pass this message on to him for me. If he doesn’t treat your collarbones with the respect they deserve, he can’t blame me for swooping in to take his place.”

Then, for the very first time that night, Luke Foster looks you in the eye, the intensity in blue-grey irises making your breath hitch when he says: “Until then, I hope you find happiness with him, Sexy Bones — especially since he also seems to be exceedingly fond of you. Quite the annoyance, really.”

And for the very first time that night, you smile freely, naturally, at Luke, blushing hard as you contemplate his words. Suddenly bashful, you drop your gaze only to catch sight of the manila envelope you brought with you. You pass it across the table to him.

“Here. Your payment for agreeing to appear on Miracle Finder.”

The expression on Luke’s face can best be described as euphoric when he takes the films from you, momentarily excusing himself from the table as he murmurs something about requiring brighter lighting to examine them.

That is when you hear the buzz of your phone from inside your purse. And when you finally fish it out, you see a single text from Victor, commanding as always:

“MEET ME AT THE BAR IN THE TRES SPADES HOTEL IN AN HOUR. DON’T BE LATE.”

Chapter 8: Green-Eyed Monsters [Victor]

“Another whiskey on the rocks for you, Sir?”

I nod to the bartender, watching as he chips away at a block of ice to produce a perfect crystalline sphere — still spinning in the glass when he pours the amber spirit over it like a libation. It almost takes my mind off the fact that the girl is late. By exactly ten minutes, according to my watch. And for a moment, I’m gripped by a sense of panic when I consider the possibility that she might not come.

She never did answer my text though I knew she saw it — having witnessed her reaching into her purse to pull out her phone seconds after I sent the message. And while the logical part of my brain is telling me I’m being an absolute idiot, worst-case scenarios are already running through my head: the girl is side-swiped by a car while crossing the street, or somehow managed to fall into an open manhole and is currently standing knee-deep in sewage.

Or maybe she is pinned to the wall in a dark corner somewhere, hemmed in on either side by the gifted hands of a world-class surgeon by the name of Luke Foster.

I lift the glass to my lips, too impatient to even savour the smooth burn of the drink as I reach for my phone to send her another text. That is when I see her:

Cheeks flushed and chest gently heaving as if she had rushed to get here. An errant lock of hair falling from her up-do, framing that beautiful face like I had dreamt so many times of doing with the palm of my hand.

She makes her way towards me in that dimly lit bar, and though I’m aware of the faint ticking of the second hand of my watch, time may as well have stood still. Because I could have lived in that moment forever, gazing upon the light in her eyes as if they held every last star in the sky, as if those heavenly bodies had fallen just for her in precisely the same way I had: deeply, irrevocably.

And I know there is no turning back.

“Victor, sorry I’m late! What are you doing here in Tok—”

“Why did you ignore me?” My voice comes out stern, even to my ears, and I curse myself for losing my cool around her yet again. The girl furrows her brows, eyes dropping from my face to the half-empty glass of whiskey sitting on the counter. And when she looks up again, something in her countenance has changed — soft surprise giving way to a hardened expression.

“If it’s the text you’re referring to, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

She looks away, refusing to meet my gaze as she perches on the stool beside me. “Surely you wouldn’t have wanted me to interrupt your dinner date, especially when you and Ms. Shum seemed so intimate.”

Intimate?

The bartender approaches, interrupting our conversation before I get the chance to formulate a reply. “What can I get for you, Miss?”

“She’ll have a glass of warmed milk—”

“Whiskey. On the rocks, please.”

She speaks over me, turning slightly in my direction as she does. I ignore the murmur of “Ladies’ choice” from the bartender as well as the smirk on his face as he begins preparing her drink. The thinly veiled challenge in the girl’s expression — elbow propped up on the counter with her chin resting atop a loose fist — only serves to highlight how incredibly alluring it is when she pushes back.

“Hmm. Bold. Since when did you start drinking whiskey? I don’t think you need me to remind you of your non-existent alcohol tolerance. Besides, didn’t you already have enough to drink at dinner?”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Victor Li,” she says, reaching for the glass the bartender sets down before her. She takes a moment, staring at the rich, golden hues before finally taking a sip. I fight to keep the smile off my face when hers pulls into a grimace from the sting of the alcohol she clearly wasn’t familiar with. Dummy.

“I’m surprised you even noticed me at all, not with the lovely Diana there. But I guess old wounds really do have difficulty closing, no matter how much we say they’ve healed.”

“You’d have to ask for the expert opinion of your overly friendly doctor about that.”

“Excuse me?” She sets her drink down a bit harder than likely intended, sending the liquid sloshing about the glass to kiss the pink of her lipstick imprinted on its edge.

I don’t like where this conversation is going, the ill-disguised barbs only serving to increase the tension between us. It was foolish to have what should’ve been a very private discussion in a public space but, as always, the thought of her and Luke together is enough to make me forget my place and position, throwing caution to the wind and behaving with reckless abandon.

And still, the heat beneath my collar goads me on.

“Luke Foster. The one you’re so enthralled with that your manners seem to have been completely swept from memory. I presume that’s the reason why you didn’t acknowledge my existence when you saw me in the restaurant.”

Her eyes widen in disbelief as she leans in close, voice dripping with sarcasm: “Just like how you didn’t remember to tell me you were coming to Tokyo? Or maybe you weren’t planning on telling me at all, since it clearly looked like you weren’t here on business. But then again, I guess your business is none of mine.”

I don’t know whether I want to push back or kiss her senseless.

Instead, I settle for a deep breath, trying to keep my frustration in check. Having a heated argument with her was not how I had intended my evening to go. In fact, my entire day had not proceeded as planned, and if I hadn’t been accosted by Diana as soon as I stepped foot in the Tres Spades hotel, I would have been having dinner with the woman who occupied all my thoughts, all the time. At the very least, I could’ve saved her from the clutches of a pervert doctor.

I glance in her direction, study the beautiful melancholy of her silent profile as she watches the ball of ice slowly melt into her drink. Then I take another sip of mine, steeling myself for reparations I desperately needed to make.

“I am only going to say this once, so listen closely. Diana Shum and I dated shortly after graduation for all of two months before we decided to part ways on amicable terms. We make for much better business partners than we ever did romantically, and while she has expressed occasional interest in rekindling our relationship, I have never been of the same mind. I can assure you this will never change.

“The reason I came to Tokyo is not because of her — professional or otherwise — but because I was in a rush to prevent a certain dummy from doing anything she’d regret later on. But…”

I knock back the rest of my whiskey, emptying the glass.

“…I’m afraid I’m too late.”

She looks at me now, eyes wide as if she were still processing the words. Her next question comes on a whisper: “Why would you be too late?”

And it is my turn to look away.

“Well, you seemed to be pretty intimate yourself with Dr. Foster during your dinner date. I can only presume that…”

The girl moves closer and I can’t help the way my eyes are drawn to her mouth — the tremble of her lower lip, full and pink and lush. Without thought, I allow my gaze to trace along the graceful column of her neck, settling at the delicate notch between her collarbones and in that instant, I come to a visceral understanding of the extent of Luke Foster’s obsession, for mine was magnified a million times over:

I yearned for the entirety of this woman before me — needed her for myself, now and forever.

“Presume what?” Her voice is low, shaking.

“I can only presume that you’ve already allowed him to…examine your body.”

There is a moment of silence — each torturous second seeming to stretch into eternity to smother the last embers of hope.

“I have…”

Oh god.

“…given him X-ray films of my collarbones as he requested. That is all. He’s never touched me, not even once. I took him out to dinner tonight so I could give them to him as thanks for appearing on the show.”

Petty. Sheepish. I felt all these things, but none so powerful as the staggering sense of relief that washes over me to hear her say these words. Closing my eyes, I let the revelation sink in, finally feeling like I can breathe for the very first time that night.

Chapter 9: The Big Bang

You don’t quite know what made you do it.

The ambience of the bar, perhaps: sultry jazz and flickering candles purposefully placed to create just enough shadows for a veil of privacy.

Or maybe it was the crestfallen uncertainty that painted the handsome features of Victor Li’s face, his sudden display of vulnerability both novel and endearing.

Most likely however, it was the way in which his downcast expression morphed into one of ecstatic relief when you told him that Luke Foster had not laid a single finger on you.

Because when Victor tilts his head back, eyes closed and sighing deeply as if some unfathomable burden had been lifted, you cannot help but bring your lips to the Adam’s apple bobbing along the length of that strong, thick neck.

Cedar wood and pine.

The notes of his cologne are so familiar you didn’t realize how much you missed his scent until you literally came face to face with it. Victor is warm, so very warm beneath the skin of your lips. And under your touch, you become vaguely aware of the fact that the rise and fall of his chest has stilled.

At any other time, you would’ve questioned your sanity for how boldly you were behaving, especially towards someone who was your boss. You had never been one to put yourself out there when it came to matters of the heart. Something about the moment however, about Victor, made you feel like the one thing you could not do was let this chance pass you by.

So when you hear that shuddering breath, feel the faint scratch of his five o’clock shadow when he nuzzles against you in return, you know you’ve made the right gamble. Being with Victor Li feels right. And the surreal sense of belonging you find within the embrace of his muscular arms gives you the courage to say, “You must really believe I’m a dummy if you think I’d let any man other than you touch me.”

He slides a finger beneath your chin, gently lifting until all you can see are those jet black eyes, swimming with heat and emotion. The sudden silence of your surroundings sinks in: no more music, no idle chatter. Not even the rustle of limbs moving about in the dimly lit bar. And there, in the strange privacy of suspended time…

...Victor kisses you.

* * *

“Are you sure…this is…what you want?”

The deep timbre of Victor’s voice sends a thrill vibrating along the surface of your skin as he questions you between kisses — laid on your mouth, the line of your jaw, the pulse of your neck. His firm body presses you into a corner of the elevator, empty save for the two of you writhing in unison against a mirrored wall.

Each movement of his soft lips against yours is purposeful, imbued with meaning: longing in the gentle teeth that nibbled on your lower lip before drawing it into his mouth, in the sensual slide of the tongue that sought yours. Affection obvious in the hands that rose to cup your face, thumbs tracing circles on the apples of reddened cheeks to tell you in no uncertain terms that Victor Li belonged to you as much as you yearned to belong to him.

So you had no qualms about answering in the affirmative, nodding your head because the press of Victor’s muscular thigh between your legs already left you breathless and wondering whether he could feel your wet heat seeping through your panties.

And all he really did was kiss you.

Ding.

The elevator stops at your floor and even before the doors slide open, Victor has hoisted you up, wrapping your legs tightly about his tapered waist and whispering into your ear, “Which room?”

You knew Victor was fit, had seen him move fast and effortlessly through the waters of his Olympic-sized swimming pool that one time he had you deliver a report to his mansion on a Sunday. And yet, you could not help but admire the sheer perfection of his physique — the bulk of his biceps, flexed beneath strained layers of clothing; the ease with which he carries you all the way to your suite.

And when he sits you down upon the king-sized bed, you wonder if it is, in fact, too small for all the things you cared to do with him.

The LFG CEO shrugs off his suit jacket, loosening his tie just enough to pull it over his head before dropping to kneel at your feet. You watch him reach for you, shiver when he caresses the sensitive skin behind your knee with a light graze of gentle fingertips. Large hands trail down your calf — touch barely there and teasing — until his palm finally cups the heel of your stiletto to slide it off your foot.

He looks up at you then, the intensity in ebony irises rendering you still and mute as you patiently await his next move despite the frenzied pounding in your chest. There is a stroke of something almost feral in the dark depths of the gaze that falls heavy upon you — searching your eyes, lingering on your lips…tracing the neckline of your dress.

“I’ve never seen you wear this dress before.” Victor says, taking the same amount of care to remove the shoe from your other foot.

And if you were able to think straight under the influence of his touch — the hands that pushed back the hem of your dress as they roamed higher and higher up your thighs towards your heat — you might have found it strange that Victor was choosing now, of all times, to comment on your wardrobe choices. As it was, you answered without second thought: “It’s new. I bought it especially for tonight’s dinner.”

Victor stills and when he speaks again, there is a faint tremble in that voice, as if fighting to contain some unfathomable emotion.

“The doctor couldn’t stop staring at you. I know because I was the same way. I couldn’t look away from the moment you stepped foot in that restaurant.”

The revelation leaves you silent, waiting with bated breath for Victor to continue.

“Forgive me…”

Fingers entwine with fabric, gripping tight.

“…but I can’t stand the thought of you looking so beautiful for anyone else.”

RRRIIIIPPPP!

You fall back, wincing at the sound even as you feel your body respond to the sudden shock of having your dress torn right down the middle. Victor’s display of brute strength was so at odds with the façade of composure he was synonymous with and yet, there was no denying that you were incredibly aroused by this show of power — by the fact that he was now straddling you on all fours like some wild beast, tearing away the rest of your undergarments to leave you completely bare.

You’ve never been so desperate to feel him inside you, deep and rough and untamed. The thought throws you into a frenzy of lust.

Digging your fingers into the front of his dress shirt, you yank it open to send buttons flying in haphazard directions, but the only thing that concerned you was the sight of that broad chest and muscular torso, so impressive it actually elicits a moan from your lips and a smile from his in return.

Propping yourself up onto your knees, you press against him, flesh to flesh — one hand running over the burning surface of his skin even as the other tugs at the buckle of his leather belt, impatiently moving to palm him when his dress pants fall and gasping to finally see and feel the full extent of the LFG CEO:

Victor Li is rock hard and intimidatingly large.

And the sight makes your mouth water.

Sinking onto your heels, you trail your lips along Victor’s chiseled body, tongue teasing at his nipples as you do and relishing the catch of his breath in his throat.

But just as you begin to lay kisses along the deep V of his abdomen with the intent of tracing lower and lower, Victor stops you, puling you up for a kiss before laying back on the bed and positioning you above him…

…with his face between your legs.

“This way,” he says, voice muffled, and you might have commented on his inability to relinquish control even in the bedroom were it not for the sensation of his flattened tongue sweeping hot and wet along the seam of your already dripping pussy, teasing from end to end.

The sensation is so intense it’s almost unbearable. You throw your head back, mouth dropping in a silent scream as you sink onto Victor’s face, fighting the instinct to grinder lower onto that talented tongue despite the encouraging grip of Victor’s hands, strong on your hips and thighs.

“I’ve wanted to taste you…for so long,” he murmurs, sucking the swell of your clit into his mouth and humming in approval against moist flesh to hear you moan above him. “Your flavour is absolutely exquisite.”

Gathering your wits, you fold forward — intent on giving just as much pleasure as you were receiving. Victor twitches once within your grip, not quite contained by the circumference of your palm and fingers, running up and down the sizeable length of his cock, hot in your hand like his breath on your slit. And after placing a few wet kisses on the smooth, hard head, you open your mouth to taste him.

The tepid salt of his arousal. The groans originating from deep within Victor’s chest each time your lip brushed past the tender underside of his cock. The subtle rhythm of his pelvis, lifting in time to your mouth swallowing more of that solid shaft, quickly becoming slick with your saliva.

And then you catch sight of your reflection in the mirrored closet. See the bulge of Victor’s bicep as he grips your hip, the flex in the muscles of his neck when he lifts to bury his face deeper into your folds. See yourself: hair disheveled and eyes half-lidded, drunk on sex. Observe the messy smear of your lipstick as your mouth stretches to accommodate more and more of your boss’s cock. And when the tip of Victor’s tongue begins its relentless tease of your clit, you watch as a most debauched expression falls over your features, the tension in your body breaking as you find release on his lips.

You are still shaking when he enters you, sensitized by an orgasm that left tiny sparks of electricity running along every nerve, priming you for second helpings. A true paragon of patience, Victor Li takes his time, deliberately slow as he pushes — savouring the sensation of drenched, swollen flesh parting just for him.

It was almost unfathomable that you could experience such extreme pleasure, each powerful swing of Victor’s hips driving him deeper into your body — hitting just the right angles until your very senses were extracted along with your second release of the night, running slick between your legs to ease the slippery slide of your bodies.

It draws out Victor’s own, your lover moving to pull out moments before you surprise him by taking him once more into your mouth — gaze locked onto those dark eyes from below as you taste him on your tongue, euphoric to see him bite his lips when your lick yours to swallow every last drop.

Chapter 10: Pillow Talk

Beep Beep Beep Beep.

You roll over, eyes still closed as you reach out to hit the snooze button on the alarm clock.

Except your palm comes down on warm flesh with a resounding smack, echoing throughout your hotel room and accompanied by a deep voice that says, “Are you finally awake, Dummy?”

Your eyes shoot open to see Victor lying naked in bed next to you, a splotch of red blooming on his chest where he had been attacked. He sets his phone down to hand you a glass of water from the bedside table, and even though memories of the previous night come rushing back to burn your cheeks, you cannot help but notice how glorious he looks bathed in morning light. You hope he doesn’t see the way your hand shakes when you accept the glass from him with a meek “Thanks.”

Victor clears his throat, waiting for you to finish drinking before he says, “That was the fourth time you slept through the alarm. I’ve already informed your colleagues you’ll be taking the day off. We didn’t get much sleep last night and I think you’ll need some time to…recover.”

You bite your lip, turning sideways to feign a sudden interest in the curtains so he wouldn’t see the giant smile spreading onto your face. It was almost surreal that Victor Li was your lover, and if it weren’t for the exquisite soreness you felt between your legs, you would’ve been hard pressed to believe it for yourself.

The sheets rustle and before you know it, Victor has his chest pressed up against your bare back, laying a soft kiss on your shoulder before he rests his chin on it.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Okay. Pretty good, actually.” It was too early in the game to tell him you were already doing cartwheels in your mind.

“Good. I’m glad to hear that because I found this under your pillow…”

He places something in your hands. Your eyes widen when you recognize the magazine with his face on the cover.

“…And this ‘man on top’ wants to know what it feels like to have this woman on top of him for the rest of the day.”

You’ve made it to the end! 🤩 Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

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writer1 · 3 years

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A regretful Wolf and his Beauty

Chapter One

Beast!Rex x fem!reader.

Summary: As punishment for his actions, young prince Rex was cursed to become a monster by a witch. The only thing that saved him from his fate was an enchantress, who gave him a condition. He has to find true love in order to redeem himself and he only has until the last petal of the enchanted rose falls. Rex's family helps you by guiding your way into his heart. Rex's fate now lies in your hands."

A/N: Hey, this is a collaborative fic between myself and @ahsokatano-thetogruta. We have created a star wars the clone wars fanfic based off the story Beauty and the Beast, so we both hope that you love reading this as much as we had fun writing it. Enjoy!

It's a crisp winter's day, the untouched snow was glistening, as more beautiful soft snowflakes danced through the air, swirling around each other in time as they waltzed their way to the ground. The slowly rising sun peers over the horizon, it feels magical as the sun shines over the sparkling snow, glistening and gleaming, creating a beautiful, breathtaking winter wonderland, and the inhabitants of the royal castle start to stir, the younger kids are already running around. They were waiting Impatiently to open the nicely wrapped presents under the tree. Christmas day is finally here again.

Rex was surrounded in peace until he was abruptly awoken to the sounds of exciting cheers and shouting of his younger brothers and cousins who are now running around the halls of the castle outside of his room.

Rex groans at the sound. He tries to go back to sleep, pressing his face tightly into the pillow. He had a late night, and is absolutely exhausted.

He almost growls when his door swings open and Fives, Echo and little Stutter run in. The ten year old twins and four year old kid run over to Rex, with Fives picking up Stutter, dropping him on top of his side. Rex almost growls again, but holds it back so as not to hurt his little brother's feelings.

He turns over, Stutter sitting on his stomach now, hands against his chest. The cute smile on his face makes Rex give him a small little smile.

"Come on, Rex. It's time to get up, right Stutter?" Stutter looks at Fives, nodding happily.

"Yeah! C-C-Come on, O-Ori'vod" Rex smiles tiredly.

"Okay! I'm up Vod'ika, can you three please leave so I can get dressed." They all nod, Echo walking over and grabbing little Stutter from Rex. They all walk out.

"Hurry up, Ori'vod." Echo yells back, causing Rex to huff a little. Rex rubs his face and yawns, trying to wake up more. He feels like he could go right back to sleep for the rest of the day, but that's not happening. He sits up, stretching his arms and legs out.

Once he's half woken himself up, he hops out of bed, padding over to the wardrobe slowly. He looks through his collection of clothes, finding his favorite shirt inside. He smiles, grabbing it and a nice brown pair of pants. Once fully dressed, he starts walking towards the door to leave his quarters.

On his way, Rex's vision goes slightly blurry and his eyes struggle to stay open from fatigue, so he yawns again, but because he couldn't see where he was walking, he clumsily stumbles into a small table making him curse as he snaps his eyes shut for a second. When he opens them again, he can see a vase wobbling around on its base, almost ready to topple over at any second. It all happens in slow motion and Rex is unable to move quickly enough to stop it from hitting the ground.

It makes a loud crash as it shatters into a thousand pieces. Rex feels his frustration earlier come rushing back to him, his annoyance growing with every passing second. A few moments later, he hears his door swing open. Without bothering to turn around to see who it is, his words come out snappy. "Don't you know how to knock?" He turns around to see Cody standing in the doorway. "Oh...sorry Cody. I didn't mean to lash out like that."

"It's alright, Vod'ika. I heard a loud noise so I just needed to make sure that you were okay, I was worried for you." Cody smiles knowing that Rex is okay, he saw the frustration on his face for a second after he turned around. "Are you okay?"

Rex feels a guilt wash over him like a ferocious wave, regretting being so rude, especially in front of his Ori'Vod. "I'm sorry, Cody. I accidentally bumped into it." Cody smiles kindly at Rex, he knows that it's not his fault.

"It's fine, Vod'ika. It was an accident. I'll clean it up, are you okay, you look frustrated." Rex nods, Cody's been here for him ever since their parents died two years ago. The reason Rex is crown prince is because Cody and his other brother Bly didn't want the crown.

"I didn't sleep well last night, and I was woken up by all of the noise." He mumbles a bit, still tired.

"I'm sure you'll feel throughout the day. We have a lot of fun things planned." He says with a big smile, hoping it will make Rex feel somewhat better.

"I'm sure I will too." He thanks him with a tired smile. Being thirteen and having hormones is not making his morning any better, but he tries to power through it the best he can and hopes he'll have a good time.

"I'll meet you in the ballroom to open presents once I've cleaned this up for you."

"Thanks, Ori'Vod."

"You're welcome, Vod'ika."

xxx

It's always very busy in the kitchen on Christmas. Many Chefs are preparing the vegetables and various foods for the Christmas dinner and snacks throughout the day. Gregor is a fifteen year old chef in training after being promoted from a dishwasher to a sous chef. He was given the day off today to spend with his brothers and cousins, but asked the head chef if he could make some cookies for everyone when they all open their presents. His boss is really nice, so he lets him do what he needs to do. Gregor gets up early to start making them. He hears the younger kids start running around upstairs, waking up the oldest of the family. He chuckles thinking of the kids running into his room to find an empty bed, he won't be woken up by someone jumping on him this year.

Gregor grabs all the ingredients he’ll need for the cookies, starting with the flour. He pours it into a bowl, there's a cloud of flour in the air after he pours but he just ignores it. He grabs the milk and eggs next, being careful to measure it correctly, the eggs are cracked in a separate bowl then, once checked for shells, are poured in with everything else. Next is Gregor's favorite ingredient, sugar.

He measures out a little more than the recipe calls for since his brothers and cousins love it when he adds extra into the mixture, because they all have a big sweet tooth. He mixes it in, giving the batter a quick taste. Once he finds that the taste is good he adds the baking powder and butter, checking the taste just to make sure it's still good.

Once the batter has reached the desired consistency and sweetness, he grabs a selection of Christmas spices from a cupboard and places them on the counter. He separates the batter into 3 different bowls, each one for a different flavour. He will make some cinnamon, ginger and vanilla cookies, though he makes about a batch more of cinnamon cookies because almost everyone goes crazy over those.

He mixes in the spices in and then puts the batter onto the counter. Gregor goes to get a rolling pin and some cookie cutters shaped like Christmas trees and stars to give them that extra Christmas feel to them. He rolls out the batter evenly and then cuts some out, placing them onto a tray ready to go into the oven. Once they are all cut out and placed on baking trays, he puts them into the oven that was preheated earlier on and then grabs a sand timer that will tell him in 20 minutes that the cookies will be baked and ready. He turns over the small timer and takes it with him so he can join everyone to start opening presents.

xxx

Rex sits in a circle with the kids, everyone between the ages of 2 to 15 is there. They all have presents in their laps, ready to be opened, the older kids and adults just have to give the say. Cody walks into the room, glancing around and smiling.

“Okay, you can all open your present now!” 99 calls out, he's the oldest among them and is everyone's uncle. All the kids start ripping open their presents, Rex feels a little bit of fear for Anakin's present when he starts to shake it.

“Be careful, ani. You’ll hurt him.” the twelve year old knight in training looks at Rex with wide eyes.

“Him?” he asks, setting the box down gently. He rips it open, hearing a bark when he opens it. He gasps loudly.

“A PUPPY!!!!” he yells, hugging the young dog to his chest. Rex smiles at his best friend's happiness, it was hard work keeping the puppy a secret. And getting it into the box a little while ago was tough, he had to ask Obi Wan for help. The older knight was surprised when Rex had asked him about getting Anakin a puppy, but agreed. He could see why Cody loved the guy. Anakin put the puppy down, pouncing on Rex.

“Thanks Rex, I love him!”

"Aw, he's so cute! What will you name him, Skyguy?" Anakin looks to his left to see Ahsoka petting his new dog gently on its head.

He smiles at her, she's only three years old but he finds her so enthusiastic and sweet "Hmm…" Anakin thinks for a moment, looking deeply into the puppy's eyes. "I'll call him Artoo!" He says, and the puppy lets out a little bark and wags his tail. Anakin feels tears of happiness well in his eyes as he hugs him close to his chest again, feeling Artoo snuggle into him.

After a few moments of admiring the adorable sight, Rex sees Stutter hand him a present. "Here y-y-you go R-R-Rex. T-T-This is f-for you."

Rex takes the wrapped up box from Stutter,smiling as he does so. "Thank you." He is only four years old, so the wrapping is a little bit untidy, but he is just so sweet and thoughtful. He peels back the paper to reveal a box with a lid. Discarding the wrapping paper on the floor, he carefully lifts off the lid to reveal a drawing inside. "Wow! This is so good, I love it. Thank you very much, Vod'ika!" Rex thanks Stutter, making him smile and then giving him a big hug. "Is that me and you that you've drawn?"

"Y-Yeah! We are p-p-playing t-t-together." He grins, happy that Rex loves his present. Stutter loves art so much, so any chance he gets to do something creative he will go and make more pieces of artwork.

While everyone is busy exchanging presents and making conversation with one another, the air is filled with a delightful and sweet aroma, making the ballroom feel even more Christmassy. Gregor notices that the sandtimer has almost run out, so he gets up and heads to the kitchen.

Rex watches as Hardcase rips into the wrapped present, he shakes his head. He swears that Hardcase is younger than him, not the same age. Hardcase finds a jigsaw puzzle inside, it's a puzzle of knights in shining armor, riding their horses into battle.

“This is awesome!”

“Did you remember to check who it's from?” Rex asks, Hardcase makes a sheepish expression.

“Oops!” he looks around. Finding the name tag, it says that it's from Jesse.

“Thanks Jesse!” hardcase yells to the twenty year old, who smiles.

“Your welcome, Vod’ika!” Hardcase laughs, he absolutely cannot wait to put it together.

Not a moment later, Gregor returns with some plates of his freshly baked cookies. Everyone's eyes go wide as he starts to hand them out to everyone. They always love his baking, especially his Christmas cookies, they are his speciality.

Rex runs over to Gregor, grabbing a handful of cookies. He runs them back over to the group, handing them to Anakin, Hardcase, Ahsoka, Stutter and everyone else in the group. Each person gets one for now to be fair, they'll have more once the presents are all done.

Ahsoka is next to open a present. She rummages through the various other presents under the tree until she finds one with her name on it. It's wrapped in silvery white paper with snowflakes and has a big blue ribbon tied around it. The tiny Togruta's eyes light up and the cutest smile graces her face. "Found mine!" Ahsoka exclaimed excitedly. She runs back over to her Ori'Vod.

Ahsoka lost her family about a year ago and Rex took her in, taking care of her and it wasn't long before everyone in the castle became her new family. She is so happy to have so many great brothers and cousins there for her. When they found out that she could use the force, Obi-Wan suggested that Anakin should be her mentor in her training to become a knight when she is old enough.

"Who's it from, Soka?" Anakin asks, still petting Artoo in his lap.

"It's from…" she searches the box for the label and then reads it out loud. "Rex."

Rex smiles at her kindly. "Go ahead, open it. But be careful with it."

Ahsoka nods and her eyes sparkle with excitement as she begins to peel back the paper, revealing a wooden box. She holds it and looks a bit confused at it for a moment.

"Here, you open it like this." Rex gets up from his chair and crouches down next to her, showing her how to open it. She then opens it all the way.

There's a little ballerina posing as if she was dancing. The lady is wearing a cute pink dress and has a pair of slipper silhouettes in the same colour as the dress. Her hair is tied up in a bun with a ribbon.

“I tried to get you a Togrutan one, but I couldn’t find one anywhere, sorry.” Rex says apologetically, he searched for one for weeks but they were always sold out or just didn't sell them.

"It's okay, I love it so much! Thank you, Ori'Vod!" She puts down the box and gives Rex a big hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. Rex chuckles and hugs her back.

"You're welcome, Soka. There is something else to it as well." Ahsoka looks at him puzzled, not sure about what he means. Rex picks up the box and shows her the little key on the back. "Turn this around a few times and see what happens."

"Okay!" She is excited to see what happens. When she lets go of the key, the ballerina starts to turn around as music from inside the box plays a beautiful song. Ahsoka is in love with this gift. "Wow! Thank you so much, I love it!"

"You're very welcome." Rex smiles at her and then she runs off to another room to carry on listening to the melody that the box produces, completely amazed with her present.

Taglist: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @captainrexisboo

#wererex #wererex x reader #star wars clone wars #captain rex x reader #werewolf clone wars au #werewolf rex x reader #my writing #captain rex #beauty and the beast #beauty and the beast au #star wars rebels #ahsoka #hardcase #jesse #fives

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medical-magpie · 4 years

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French podcasts for the french learners

I've noticed that a lot of you in the studyblr community were trying to learn a language, and well, I thought I'd put my two cents in and recommend some of my favourite podcasts for all the french learners out there. I probably wouldn't consider any of them to be beginner-friendly, to be fair I think you'd need at least a B1 level to quite get them since some of them are by journalists who use technical terms, others contain slangs and weird idioms, but if your understanding of french is already good and you want to improve your listening abilities, I'm sure you'll learn something from them.

1) Le nuage, by Nouvelles écoutes

If you enjoyed Chernobyl this one is for you. In the south of France, on a hot summer day, Julia Roch-Rivière, director of Le Douvrey (one of the oldest reactors in the country) is made aware of a breakdown in a reactor, from here, her only goal will be to protect the nearby population while avoiding her colleagues who want to cover it up. it's 5 episodes, all of whom are very interesting 8/10 would relisten to it.

2) Qui est Miss Paddle? By Pavillon sonore

This one is more of an essay, Judith is a journalist one day she realizes that her boyfriend has been liking Instagram's posts from this beautiful girl she'll soon start to call miss paddle. Don't be fooled by the synopsis the story isn't about the girl on the pictures, it's about Judith and her relationship. It's well documented, she interviews experts on the subject as well as her friends and family on what makes a relationship toxic and how to spot one to get out.

3) Mes 14 ans, by Paradisio

Lucie just turned 30, at the bottom of a drawer, in her childhood's bedroom, she finds the diary she kept as a fourteen-year-old, year where she lost her virginity to her first love. The way it's done makes it is intimate like you were the one reading her diary, it's raw and sweet just like a coming of age movie but with the input of her 30-year-old self. Probably my favourite on the list. Still, no transcript found though.

4) Inspiré de faits réels, by charles et mathias

If you liked "last podcast on the left" this one is definitely for you, it follows a similar style by telling the facts that inspired horror movies. Be careful though your hosts speak a french full of slangs at the speed of sound, except when they build some dramatic tension.

5) Le bureau des mystères, by Charles et Mathias

If I were to compare this one I would draw a parallel with either Welcome to night Vale or The Magnus Archives in terms of setting, yet the bureau is no fiction, its goal is to catalogue every mystery on Earth. They tell you stories from around the world and try to explain them. It's entertaining if you're not into horror it's probably not for you.

6) 20 ans d'âge, by MadmoiZelle

Who are the twenty-somethings? what do they dream about? how do the fresh twenty years olds anticipate their next decade? Those are the questions Alix try to answer as she interviews one every two weeks. The portraits are diverse and touching, the guests range from artists to regular students from various economic backgrounds even though most of them seem to come from Paris. To me, it is The podcast to hear from the gen Z, undistorted, unfiltered.

7) Bonus round, Podcasts on my to-listen list

Le Book Club, women talk about books that impacted their life.La base, the basics of a given topic in 2 to 5 minutes.Entre nos lèvres, women talk about their sexualities.La Librairie Yokai, stories about yokais.

#frenchblr #studyblr #podcast recs #podcast #langblr

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justablobfish · 3 years

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Finding a present for that person that is impossible to find a present for

Day 13 of my Advent Calender. A new drabble or oneshot everyday until Christmas, following the Continent’s favourite found family and what they’re up to in the winter season. Based on this prompt list

Read on AO3

Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

______

It's going to be Jaskier’s second time visiting Kaer Morhen.

Two years ago, Geralt had asked him only a few days before they were scheduled to separate for the winter. It had all been rather sudden and the whole season had passed in a blur of anxiety and excitement.

He hadn't even met the whole family then, Geralt's little brother Lambert hadn't made it to the keep that year. Then, the year after, Jaskier got delayed by his family until he couldn't make it to the keep anymore; the path had already snowed over.

This year though - this year Jaskier is determined to make the most of his time at Kaer Morhen and charm his way into the hearts of Geralt's family until they can't imagine winter without him anymore.

Step one is to make a good first impression after the Wolves haven't seen him in so long. And the easiest way to do that is to get the perfect welcome gift for everyone scheduled to be there.

He comes across the first gift mere weeks after the snow of the previous winter has melted. After the tedious experience with his parents he decides to spend some time in Oxenfurt to recuperate.

In his favorite dingy little bookstore he finds the perfect present for Eskel.

Yes, yes, a steamy romance novel might not necessarily be the best way to prove himself to his lover's family, but the cover of the book shows your usual handsome warrior with very revealing clothing clutching a swooning damsel in distress in his overly muscular arms. Except this protagonist is drawn with an enormous scar covering the left side of his face.

He's extremely handsome. So is Eskel, of course, but whenever Jaskier tells him as much he just dismisses the compliment. With this book though, Eskel will have to believe him that scars are seen as attractive by quite a number of people. Why else would they draw the cover like this?

His second gift he also finds in a bookstore, though this place couldn't possibly be more different than where he found the book for Eskel.

The "Ye Olde Books" in Toussaint sells only the most esteemed antiquities to rich noblemen who never intend to read them and only display them to prove their supposedly good taste and to exaggerate their riches.

Jaskier quickly determines the oldest book the store has on offer. It's still younger than the recipient of the gift, of course, but the fairy tale stories it holds should still be similar enough to the stories that must have been popular when Vesemir was a child.

After the events of the last winter Jaskier at least managed to guilt trip his parents enough that he has no trouble paying for the delicate tome.

As for Lambert, Jaskier didn't meet him the one year he spent at Kaer Morhen, but he and Geralt ran into the younger Witcher on the Path once. It was a brief encounter and Lambert didn't seem to particularly like Jaskier.

Geralt reassured him afterwards that it's nothing personal and that Lambert doesn't like anyone.

Even though they couldn't possibly be more different, Lambert somewhat reminded Jaskier of himself. Jaskier is happy with his place in the world now, but he had to carve it out for himself, which hadn't always been easy. He remembers a time when he, too, felt trapped in the life he was born into, never good enough to satisfy his parents or to become a person in his own right, not just the heir to a legacy he wanted nothing to do with.

So the bitterness Lambert carries around with him feels very familiar.

His third gift, therefore, is just as expensive as Vesemir's and on top of that requires a large amount of convincing to work out. Luckily, Jaskier has practice annoying someone enough until they agree to anything. He spent most of his life perfecting the skill with the involuntary help of his lover.

By the time winter comes around again, the specially commissioned Gwent card will have started distribution. Though of course Jaskier will carry a copy of the new Lambert hero card with him as well and present it to Geralt's younger brother. He's made sure it would be stronger than the White Wolf card that became popular in recent years.

Ciri's gift is easy enough. Jaskier simply buys the biggest, fluffiest teddy bear he can find. Ciri is going to roll her eyes at him and claim that she isn't a kid anymore, but that's exactly what makes it the perfect present. With all that destiny business, the kid forgets far too often to allow herself to be a child sometimes.

How to get this monstrous thing, which is nearly as tall as Jaskier, back to Kaer Morhen is an entirely different story, though…

The gift for Yennefer isn't hard to find either once he meets up with Geralt and travels with him again. In a run-down little general store in a village in the middle of nowhere, in the furthest corner of the shop, hidden under a fishing net and a set of gardening tools, lies the most atrocious knitted sweater Jaskier has ever seen. There's no reason to abandon old traditions, even if he and Yennefer don’t meet up at Oxenfurt anymore. And in case Yennefer doesn't attend Kaer Morhen this winter, he'll simply keep it around until the next time they meet. The knitwear is so incredibly ugly, it would be a shame to waste it.

Geralt informs him one day that Lambert will bring a plus one. Not a boyfriend or close friend or anything, just a superficial acquaintance. The fact that Lambert risked his own hide to save the man's life is - apparently - entirely coincidental and without meaning. It's just that this other Witcher of the Cat school has no other place to spend the winter. Nothing more.

Geralt calls his little brother an emotionally constipated idiot and Jaskier can't help but burst out laughing at the hypocrisy.

Jaskier isn't sure whether to get this Aiden a gift as well since he never met the man, but as so often in his life, fate takes matters into its own hands.

He's perusing his favorite clothes store in Vizima when he finds the most beautiful scarf. It's big and woolen and perfectly flashy. Every handspan or so the pattern and colours change completely. All in all it shows every colour of the rainbow.

That is not the gift for Aiden, of course. But it's going to look great on Jaskier, especially since Geralt still insists he wears that old grey winter cloak. Granted, the cloak is warm, but oh so boring looking. The scarf will be just the right accessory to add a bit of color to his winter wardrobe.

The gift for Aiden he comes across as he leaves the store. A little boy, who must be the owner's son, sits at the side of the road and busies himself with thread and needle.

Curious, Jaskier steps closer and finds that the boy is attaching pieces of felt to a simple hairband.

Once the kid is done he puts the headband on and the felt pieces stand up in such a way that it appears like the boy has kitten ears growing out of his head.

Jaskier considers for a moment but then decides that if this Aiden is voluntarily hanging out with Lambert, he must have a good sense of humor. He buys the headband off the boy and heads back to his and Geralt's inn room.

Maybe it's because he's traveling with Geralt and can't really go looking for a gift for the White Wolf, but by the time their departure for Kaer Morhen rolls around, Jaskier has a little something for everyone, except Geralt. He doesn't even have an idea what he could gift to the man. Anything practical like a new whetstone, better armor or a fancy dagger is something that Geralt is far better equipped to pick out himself. Jaskier has little knowledge about such things.

And while Jaskier has spent the last twenty years of his life convincing the big oaf that he deserves pretty things every once in a while, too, Jaskier can't think of anything that wouldn't just be in the way when they eventually set out on the Path again.

The end of autumn creeps closer and closer and Jaskier’s head stubbornly remains empty. It shouldn't be this hard to think of something that Geralt would enjoy. After all, Jaskier has known him for over two decades now. But it seems like everything he could get his favorite Witcher he has already gotten him at some point during their travels.

He still has no idea when they pass the last village on the way to the Witchers’ keep.

Or when they start making their way up the mountain path.

Maybe there's a pretty rock he can pick up?

What? No, that's a dumb idea. He's not just gonna pick up a random rock just because he's desperate. At this point he'll just have to accept the fact that he has no gift for Geralt.

They reach the keep after two days of tedious climbing - not something Jaskier missed from his last visit - and are greeted at the gates by the other Witchers. Geralt's family members each welcome Geralt with a short hug and a pat on the back, while another man, who must be Lambert's tagalong, awkwardly stands to the side. Vesemir and Eskel nod at Jaskier courtly, Lambert only grunts at him.

Jaskier makes eye contact with Aiden who rolls his eyes at him apologetically over Lambert's behaviour.

Then Geralt brings Roach to the stables and they all quickly make their way inside.

In the large dining hall they meet Yennefer and Ciri. Apparently they only came here a day earlier via portal, making Jaskier and Geralt the last to arrive.

"I have welcoming gifts!" Jaskier addresses everyone.

Eskel reacts to his present with eyes narrowed in confusion. Then they grow wide with realisation and wonder.

Lambert scoffs when Jaskier hands him his parcel. He doesn't scoff again after he unpacks it.

Aiden grins at him widely and immediately puts his gift on.

Vesemir simply hums appreciatively. It reminds Jaskier far too much of Geralt. He supposes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Ciri, as expected, reacts with a pout and the declaration that she's not a child anymore. Still, she clutches the plushy to her chest and refuses to let it go when Aiden says he'll take it if she doesn't like it.

Yennefer snarls at her sweater and quickly turns away from the group to hide it, but just like Ciri does with the teddy bear, she clutches it to her chest protectively.

Which only leaves Geralt.

"I, uh…, " Jaskier stutters and stares at his empty hands.

"Hmm," Geralt hums. "Saving the best for last?"

He grabs Jaskier by the shoulder, turns him around so that he's facing the room. He hugs Jaskier from behind and places his chin on Jaskier’s shoulder.

"Seems like you got me the best gift of all," Geralt hums. "Look!"

Confused, Jaskier glances about the room. Vesemir and Eskel are sitting in a corner, flipping through their respective books. Lambert is chasing Aiden through the room, who has stolen his Gwent card and is waving it around tauntingly. Ciri holds the teddy out to Yennefer, who's holding her sweater to the bear's chest to see if it would fit him. There's nothing out of the ordinary that Jaskier can spot.

"I don't under-" he begins.

"Everyone's here," Geralt explains. "My whole family in one place for the very first time. I couldn't possibly ask for more."

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #Jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #aiden #vesemir #ciri #Yennefer of Vengerberg #theblobfishwrites

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bunnymcbunnister · 4 years

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SPN Season 15 Spoiler Sheet, update 8/31

Waited until that second trailer came out to post. I am LIVING with all this new content! Mind the disclaimer and check it out under the cut.

DISCLAIMER: This is gathered info from various sources. This is not confirmed information. Stuff in this WILL be wrong. Don’t take this too seriously. This is for fun. Also, if you use this info for another publication, please let me know as a courtesy. Don’t be a dick. It's all out there, but it hurts to see my same phrasing on other publications after all the work I’ve done to consolidate it…

General Info (oldest to newest). This is a blend of pre-COVID and post COVID, so some might change.

They are adding a whole extra day to filming to do the final scene. They will film the final scene last. (Implies logistics- lots of returning people?) PRE COVID SPOILER

In an interview, Kripe indicated that the series ending would have “peace” for Sam and Dean

Not much new at the TCA’s, but it was said it is “unlikely” Jeffery Dean Morgan will be back since his last appearance was such a good end note. There were some jokes about a Castiel spin off.

There will be a special tribute ep (Post COVID talk seems to indicate this will stil happen)

Misha will be in 15 out of 20 episodes this season (he’s missed 3 so far and I suspect will miss 14 and 16, unclear about 19).

Cas’ deal with the Empty may come up later in the season.

Jack will be a critical part of the ending of the show

Dean and Amara’s connection will be explored

There will be a bunker themed episode (MarySue article)

In one of his cookbook interviews, Misha used the word “we” several times when talking about the final scene of Supernatural. He said that would be the last scene they shoot. It seemed to imply that he was in the scene, but that could be open to interpretation.

JaxCon/Vegas Con spoilers:

Misha said the ending was “happier than he expected” but also had some sadness. He later used “sad and redemptive”

Misha mentioned that Claire will be mentioned on the show, but as of yet not appear.

Dean says the line “stop killing my people” (to god?)

Jensen said he doesn’t see how the story could continue past this season, but Jared said its more of “a see you later”

Misha confirmed he’s in the final scene, but he also indicated he had one week of filming left (total?) PRE COVID SPOILER

Al Cal posted a pic of a “thrown away” call sheet that seem to indicate Micheal, Lucifer, and a character named “Betty” interacting in the bunker. Unclear as to the validity.

There will be a flashback episode

Charlie (original flavor) will return

Filming will resume on Aug 18th. Per Canadian policy, they must quarantine for two weeks. Those quarantining seems to include:

Fairly Clear: Jared, Jensen, Jake Abel (Micheal), Rob Benedict (Chuck/God) Mark Pelligrino (Lucifer), Al Cal (didn't need to quarantine, but he is definitely on set)

Unclear/Rumored: Misha (he is being deliberately cagey), Osric Chau (Kevin- but likely for another project, he was a week ahead of everyone else) Jim Beaver (Bobby) flew to Vancouver on 8/26, so he could make it for the last couple days of filming with a quarantine

No idea: Shoshannah Stern and Ruth

Reasons Unlikely: Sam Smith (chemo treatment), Kim Rhodes (working at a camp during quarantine)

Jensen said sp 19 is more of a season finale, while 20 is a series finale. Repeated in interviews/livestreams.

Megan Fitz. complimented both Dabb’s and Glynn’s writing on twitter. Not sure if it is in reference to rewrites or the special retrospective that is planned.

Jensen indicated that the ending did change per COVID protocols. Unclear how much.

Misha is being very, very cagey about where he is. Some live streams seem to indicate he is not at home, but he has yet to confirm- his presence in 19/20 is hard to track. In an interview with Metaverse, he was in bed in a hotel looking space and you could see mountains in the background. He was not on set for the first week of filming, so he could be a week behind.

Misha has thrown around the words “final” and “what he <Misha> would have wanted” per Cas’ ending. “Sad/Proud” and “poignant” were also used.

The final episodes will premier October 8th. The finale will air Nov 19th in conjunction with an hour long special.

A trailer was released on 8/27. Scenes included:

A moving speech from Sam to Dean

(Possibly from 18) A teary conversation between Dean and Cas

Injured Dean being helped by Cas in the bunker

Jack breaking some cuffs/bring thrown into a wall/saying he has to kill god

Dean and his grenade launcher and a purple nightgown

Sam in a sweater vest getting a gun from under a pillow

A glimpse of a body with “Lust” written above it/a matronly woman (I think the villain from 14) saying “Boys”

Ghost Dean? Little Sam cutting off a hand

Some intermixed scenes from past episodes

A second trailer was released on 8/31. Scenes included:

A monologue from Billie about god coming to destroy the planet plus her banging on a bunker door (with her hand all gooey) and striking someone with her sythe

Jack continuing his speech about killing god but expanding that he has a ritual to do

Lots of red danger lights in the bunker/ 3 people getting tossed around in the bunker/Chuck in the bunker

Chuck saying he doesn't believe Sam and Dean can kill him

Young Sam and not ghost Young dean

Dean angrily driving the Impala then saying “its time”

Cas drawing his blade in front of an old truck to protect someone in a suit (Jack? I cant tell)

More Dean tears

A surprise appearance from Bobby

Some of the same scenes as before

Episode 15x14

Title: Last Holiday

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS: MAKING UP FOR LOST TIME – Sam (Jared Padalecki) and Dean (Jensen Ackles) discover a wood nymph (guest star Meagan Fey) living in the bunker who is determined to protect her family, at any cost. Eduardo Sanchez directed the episode written by Jeremy Adams (#1514). Original airdate 3/30/2020.

Written by: Jeremy Adams

Director: Eduardo Sanchez

Filming Dates:1/15- 1/24

Airdate: unknown- October 8th

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? eh… I don't think so Jack ? yes

Guest stars:

Other Spoilers/info:

Misha mentioned being at an airport the first day of filming, maybe he’ll miss this one

The director shared a BTS shot with AlCal’s chair in the background. He also posted on that looked like the statues in hell. Lots of filming at the bunker. A few impala shots were shared as well.

In an EW article, a mysterious woman gives Sam and Dean every holiday they ever missed. Based on the title, I’m guessing this!

Episode 15x15

Title: Gimme Shelter

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: ?? Davy Perez???? They seem to be keeping it under wraps for some reason

Director: Matt Cohen

Filming Dates: 1/27-2/5

Airdate: unknown. October 15th?

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ?yes Jack ? Yes

Guest stars:

Other Spoilers/info:

There was some filming done at the crossroads with only Misha.

Alex and Misha filmed together

It seems as if J2 didn’t film at all the first week, Misha filmed six or seven days, this is a Cas centric ep

Episode 15x16

Title: Drag Me Away (From You)

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: Megan Fitzmartin

Director: Amyn Kaderali

Filming Dates: 2/6-2/17

Airdate: October 22nd?

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? I think so… briefly? Jack ? not sure either.

Guest stars: IMDB credits Lisa Berry (Billie/Death)

Other Spoilers/info:

Alex got a cast of his face around the filming of this- so this ep or the one after

Looks like we get Dean in a robe!

They filmed at Rooster’s Sunrise Hotel for 3 days/nights

This might be the flashback ep

Episode 15x17

Title: Unity

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: Meredith Gylnn

Director: Catrion McKenzie

Filming Dates: 2/19-2/28

Airdate: Oct 29th?

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? yes Jack ? yes

Guest stars: Rob benedict and Emily Sparrow

Other Spoilers/info:

Chuck and Amara trailers were seen on set when filming in a garden

Jensen was in NOLA Friday, possible Monday

“Uriel” was around for filming (Post COVID update: Misha seemed to indicate that this was because the actor was nearby filming? Not sure if this is to cover up the spoiler or the truth)

Alex and Jensen filmed in the imala

Episode 15x18

Title: The Truth

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: BOBO

Director: Speight

Filming Dates: 3/2--3/11

Airdate: Nov 5th?

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? yes Jack ? yes

Guest stars:

Other Spoilers/info:

Misha and Alex filmed near the impala. J2 showed up later that night. This was the source of the “last time they all filmed on set” photo)

An really emotional scene was filmed with Misha and Jensen. Jared was definitely not there, but Alex was on the flight they took with Rich, so its possible he was too. This was revealed at a con in which the four of them were on a plane that had an in-flight problem.

Filming watchers saw a bro hug

Tape Ball posted a shot of field that looks like were dean came back from hell

Misha indicated this was his “favorite episode” in a recent interview

Episode 15x19

Title: Inherit the Earth

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: bucklelimg

Director: John Showalter

Filming Dates:: 3/12-3/23/cancelled for COVID and then 8/18-8/27

Airdate: Nov 12th

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? unknown Jack ? yes

Guest stars: Jake Abel (Micheal), Mark Pelligrino (Lucifer)

Other Spoilers/info:

Production shut down as a precaution for coronavirus on 3/13, two days into filming. It is scheduled to start again on Aug 18th.

Jensen indicated there might be some re-writes for this ep to account for COVID protocols.

When they started filming, they indicated they were on day two. So maybe they could only use some of the scenes they shot? Then they added an extra day all called it day 9. COVID protocols makes things take longer

AlCal was definitely on set.

Jake Abel is definitely on set, and he posted an instagram story with his trailer and Lucifer’s (Mark Pelligrino)

Some filming was done at a gas station called Showalter’s (name of the director) with Jared, Jensen, and Alex

Jake “Spoiler King” Abel filmed a video showing chairs for Jared, Jensen, and Alex as well as Rob Benedict (Chuck/God). They were filming near a lake with a mountain view (that looked similar to where Cas died in season 13)

Rob Benedict posted it was his last day in Vancouver, indicating we won't see Chuck past this episode? Or very very briefly in 20? Jake Abel posted a similar message, also baiting fans about Misha’s whereabouts

Episode 15x20

Title: Carry On

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: Dabb

Director: Bob Singer

Filming Dates: 8/28- 911? (9/7 is Labor Day, not sure if that affect filming in Canada, or if the finale still requires an extra day. COVID makes things take longer as well)

Airdate: November 19th

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? maaaaybe? Jack ? maaaaybe?

Guest stars:

Other Spoilers/info:

Misha is in the final scene, per pre COVID interviews.

Jake Abel used a “we” when he tweeted about getting back to work as soon as the virus scare ended, indicating Adam/Micheal would be part of the finale. He is quarantining, so this seems likely. Now looking like he was referencing 19.

Jensen indicated filming would take two weeks, longer than usual

#supernatural #spn spoilers #spn season 15 #spoiler sheet

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