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storiesofsvu · 5 months

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Decadent Desires Ch 2

Future Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, sexual situations alluded to. Okay y'all were super interactive on the first chapter so I figured I'd give you an early chapter as a treat. Lol.

A full week had passed, another one full of overbearing work, handling the slight squabbling from the team while also dealing with constant badgering from the higher ups and Emily was over it. She scooped the final bite of linguine out of the pan, chewing it down while she moved the dish into the dishwasher thankful at least that she didn’t have to hand wash things tonight. It had been an annoying week and the bottle of wine on the counter had been calling her name since about two in the afternoon, the thought of an orgasm to relieve some stress on her mind from the moment she got home. However it wasn’t close enough to shower or bed time yet so the wine would have to do for now.

Emily refilled her glass, picked up her phone and opened the door to the patio, figuring at the very least she could enjoy the warm evening and actually get some fresh air after being cooped up in the office all week. Settling into one of the chairs she swiped open her phone and immediately had to resist the temptation to check her email, reminding herself she wouldn’t be so frustrated if she left work at work unless it was completely urgent. So she scrolled through a couple of social media apps, wasting time looking at pictures posted by friends, which in turn made her feel even more like she was missing out on something. She closed Instagram and her thumb hovered over the screen while she tried to figure out what to doom-scroll on next, finding herself staring at the little red apps Heather had installed. She took a breath, a large sip of wine and bit the bullet, opening the first one and she was pleasantly surprised she could scroll through a handful of profiles without setting one up for herself first.

‘Caitlin. 21.’

“Okay well you’re barely legal.” Emily muttered to herself, scrolling down further.

‘Steven. 32.’

A better age, but still a step in the wrong direction.

‘Kyla. 38.’

Better. But she could only see the main picture, age and location. Pulling her lip into her mouth she flicked around through a couple of pages until she found the how to tips and realized she would have to make a profile after all, even if it was just to see more information. She let out a huff, closing the app, hesitating only a minute before she opened up her text conversation with Heather.

‘Are you SURE this is a good idea?’

Her phone buzzed only a few seconds later.

‘The apps are fine. I’m assuming you haven’t even made a profile yet and it’s just pushing out what it thinks people want to see. You can curate your own experience once you put in your preferences.’

‘And if it still sucks?’

‘Oh come on, what’s the harm in one date? At the very least it’ll keep you entertained.’

‘Who said I’m not entertained?’

‘It’s Friday night and you’re texting me instead of being out somewhere.’

‘And you’re answering.’

‘I’m waiting for Rob to pull the car around; you just caught me at a convenient time.’ ‘Make a profile. There’s no harm in seeing what’s out there. You can blame me if it’s terrible.’

‘Add on a free lunch.’

‘Tell you what, this doesn’t work, I’ll bump it up to dinner and show you a couple of the discreet clubs around the city.’

‘Mark me down as intrigued. Deal.’

Emily let out a huff, swigging back a mouthful of wine before finally reopening the first app to start to put together her own profile. Maybe there really was a chance that this could work out.

Carly. 35.

Emily was almost late, one work call turning into another, turning into getting put on hold meant she didn’t have time to go change after work, arriving at Smoke and Mirrors still in her business casual. She was just in the nick of time and instantly found her date nestled into a cozy table on the patio overlooking the river, martini already in front of her.

It wasn’t necessarily that she slipped back into work mode, but her job did help her meet and interact with new people on a regular basis fairly easily. A warm smile and greeting, unsure how awkward something like a handshake would be considering the situation. A few rounds of drinks, a couple of split appetizers, and a decent enough time. While Carly could hold a perfectly good conversation and Emily could see them perhaps being friendly in the future, it wasn’t the right vibe. It certainly wasn’t helping that Emily could practically feel every set of eyes in the lounge on them throughout the night and that you didn’t have to be a profiler to put it together what kind of a situation was going on. It made Emily uncomfortable, like everyone was judging them, more specifically, her. If the two of them had been more friendly to each other right off the bat you might have been able to tell that it wasn’t a date, that they were colleagues or friends but that simply wasn’t the case. Her mind wandered to the thought that there was someone in the room that likely just assumed they were mother, daughter and that made her skin absolutely crawl and instantly ask if they could get the check. She at least felt a little bit better when Carly offered to split it, offering her a small smile that meant she was about on the same page.

Alice. 36.

This time Emily gave herself more than enough time to get home, have a glass of wine to help her relax and change into something more date appropriate. Alice had recommended Fiola and Emily had simply gone along with it, not realizing just how high end it actually was, her eyes widening at the fact that a single cocktail could set you back twenty-five to almost thirty dollars much less the food menu. At the very least, it seemed like the restaurant’s lounge was the place to be for date night on a Thursday, couples scattered throughout the place in various levels of dress. She noticed something on the menu advertising it being the place to be prior to theatre events and their server asked if they were attending a show tonight.

Emily had a little bit more faith in this one, feeling more comfortable considering the setting, actually relaxing as she laughed over her very expensive drink. It didn’t take long for the conversation to roll around to what one did when not out on the town and she let it slip that she worked for the government, a few more carefully worded questions and Alice had enough to figure out she was a fed, excusing herself to use the bathroom. When the room started to clear and Emily realized the other woman’s purse was gone from the back of her chair she let out a soft groan, realizing she was definitely stuck with the pricey cheque.

Lily 31.

Emily knew going in this one could be risky based off age alone. Lily’s profile seemed like she did this full time and she already wasn’t sure about things by the time she set foot into 1798. Her suspicions were confirmed when her phone went off with an urgent call she had to take, letting out a sigh as she returned to the table explaining that she had to leave for work and likely wouldn’t be back for a few days at least. In return Lily let out a huff and a whine like she was a toddler, crossing her arms over her chest and demanded that Emily pay for a three course dinner and send her roses each day she was going to be gone since she had wasted her time. Emily outwardly laughed, saying drinks were the only thing she’d even agreed to have, much less pay for and left as fast as she came in.

Kimberly. 39.

This one got postponed immediately as a case kept them out of town longer than anticipated. They were still only chatting back and fourth on the app and Emily was venting about being the one in charge and how her team were agents and you’d think they could handle certain things themselves but apparently not. She woke up the next morning to find a couple of messages that insinuated Kimberly might have been doing other things for money that weren’t exactly legal and thought it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with a cop. After Emily sent a reply agreeing, the match disappeared.

Emma. 34.

This one started off slow, a match, Emily shot off a message and waited a while to hear back. She was pleasantly surprised when her phone pinged with the reply she’d been hoping to get for a few days. They got along wonderfully, everything seemed to be falling right into place, their opinions, expectations, they shared a handful of the same favourite movies, foods, for once it seemed like things would be perfect. Emily opened the app when she got home from work that night to ask her out for drinks that weekend to find that she’d been completely ghosted, unmatched and no way to find Emma again.

Kori. 40.

The second match that had gone off without a hitch and a plan to meet at Blue Duck Tavern that coming Thursday night. Emily arrived a little bit early thanks to a complete lack of traffic and figured she would just grab a drink at the bar while waiting. You could only imagine her confusion when she was tapped on the shoulder and turned around to see an older than middle aged man with a timid smile introducing himself, apologizing that he didn’t look like his pictures.

That one earned an eye roll and a ‘yeah, right’ before Emily was heading for the door.

The week had finally come to a close and Emily had dismissed the BAU shortly after lunch, telling the team to get out of there while they still had the chance and everyone was quick to leave the building, herself included. Construction rerouted her normal commute home and when she ended up in the same neighbourhood as Heather’s office her mind wandered back to how unsuccessful her past two weeks had been and before she even really realized it, she was pulling into the parking lot.

“I’m being serious Heather, it’s fucking terrible.” She groaned, dropping down into a chair across from the other woman’s desk. “This is almost as bad as dating men was.”

“From what I heard some of them are men.” Heather replied with a tease and Emily shot her a glare.

“I just thought this would be easier.”

“Finding the right fit is the hard part, it’ll smooth over once you do.” Heather flipped the book in front of her closed, standing from her chair and crossing over to the liquor cart, filling up two glasses of scotch.

“I didn’t want to deal with the hard part though.” Emily continued to mope, thanking her for the glass.

“Drink. You’re too pent up.” She settled back at her desk, “you really do need to get laid.”

“Don’t you think I’m trying!?” She sucked back a mouthful of the liquor, stewing in her thoughts for a moment. “Please tell me you’re having more success in this than I am, how’s your bartender doing?”

“Are you kidding?” Heather laughed, “you saw her. She’s practically pathetic. She was pretty enough, but my god the level of insecurity? The constant whining and worrying? Don’t get me wrong, I love a good brat but there was no way she wouldn’t have been crying on my doorstep begging me to leave my husband in a week’s time.”

“Have you had that happen before?” Her eyes widened at the sheer thought of it as Heather nodded.

“Best piece of advice I can give you, don’t let them know where you live. Stick to hotels.”

“Noted.”

“What are you having the biggest trouble with? Maybe I can help.”

Emily sighed softly, swirling her cup as she stared into it, sorting through the string of failed dates, “honestly I don’t even know. Maybe I just need to play around with the age range…. Would probably help to bump it up a little it.”

“Anything under thirty-five does usually end up getting messy.”

“I want someone who has their life a little bit more put together; you know?”

“Mmhmm.” Heather replied over the rim of her drink, “you need to make sure that this isn’t their only source of income, that they have something else going on to fill their time and bank account up. Maybe someone who has an actual partner.”

“I don’t know about that.” Her nose crinkled, “would feel wrong. But someone who has a full time job and wouldn’t be completely dependant on me certainly would be nice. I don’t have the time or energy for that.”

“You need a gorgeous, ambitious girl who knows how to be discreet in public and likes get her brains fucked out in private.”

“Exactly.” She laughed, taking another sip of her drink as Heather tilted her phone screen towards her, hitting a couple of buttons before returning her attention to the other woman, “you know, if you ever think of changing career paths…”

“Become a matchmaker for sugar babies?” She chuckled, “there would likely be a market for that, maybe after retirement.”

Emily laughed, shaking her head as she watched the wheels start turning in the other woman’s head. She heard a brief knock on the door behind her before it swung open,

“I didn’t realize you needed this by the end of the day, sorry.” You swung through the office, coming to perch on the side of Heather’s desk as you handed her the file.

“It’s alright, it slipped my mind too.” Heather replied as she opened the file, skimming through it.

Her eyes flicked over to Emily briefly, watching the way her gaze drifted from the designer heels on your feet all the way to the necklace laying against your collarbone. You were dressed professionally yet incredibly stylish, dark pencil skirt, a peach sleeveless blouse tucked into it, blazer no doubt laying over the back of your desk chair. A delicate silver watch around one wrist, perfectly manicured nails and eyes that were suddenly set on her.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt. You’re FBI, right? Prentiss?” Your words jolted her out of her trance and she caught herself scrambling over the fact that you knew her name, wondering if she’d left her ID badge on after work.

“Well now I feel bad.” She laughed.

“Don’t.” Heather cut in, her eyes back on the file, “she just does checks on anyone that comes in here.”

“Ignore her.” You replied with a grin, sticking out your hand to introduce yourself, “y/n Walton.”

“And you’re what? Secret security?” Emily asked with a tease and you laughed as Heather tucked the file away into her desk.

“She’s the head of my PR team, does incredible work.”

“I should hope so, you practically groomed me into the assistant you needed.”

“I did not—” Heather scoffed, “you’re a horrible tease.”

“I do my job and then some, and I do it phenomenally.” You showboated for a second, grinning over at Emily before looking up at your boss, “which is why I’m double checking it’s still okay to duck out early tonight?”

“Why?” The other woman asked with a smirk, “you have a hot date or something?”

“Heather, please.” You barked out a laugh, “you’re a slave driver! You know I don’t have time to properly date with my schedule.”

“So why the need to play hooky?”

“A new Netflix special drops at six and I have a frozen pizza, a pint of ice cream and that bottle of Bordeaux screaming my name.” You slipped off the side of her desk, “besides, you still owe me the OT for putting together the gift baskets and flower arrangements for Senator Reeves. You do remember you have an assistant for that kind of shit, right?”

“Oh but sweetheart you’re so much better than them.”

“I know.” You grinned at her, “which is why I’m leaving early.”

She laughed, shaking her head, “keep your phone on.”

“Of course.” You turned, smiling across at Emily, “nice to meet you Agent Prentiss.”

Emily couldn’t help the way her eyes followed you out of the room before she finally turned back to Heather who was grinning like the cheshire cat over the rim of her drink.

“What?” She asked, feigning confusion and Heather chuckled.

“You liked what you saw.”

“Hard not to.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drool like that over someone before.”

“I—I was not drooling!”

“Maybe not from your mouth.”

“Heather!” Emily felt her cheeks begin to burn, attempting to hide behind her glass as the brunette let out a dark laugh.

“Here, at least take her phone number.” Picking up a pen she scrawled the digits out onto a post it note, handing it to Emily.

“I don’t have time to date, you know this.”

“And you heard her.” She gestured toward the door, “she doesn’t either. You wanted someone with their head on straight who is comfortable occupying themselves when you’re working. I make her schedule; I guarantee she works as many hours as you do. Besides… she’s done this a couple of times before.”

That caught Emily’s attention, looking up from the yellow paper in her hand with her brow furrowed, “really?”

“Yes.”

“With women?”

“She needed some help through college, I was bored.” Heather shrugged, “worked out for both of us and now she’s on my actual payroll.”

“She’s been working for you that long?”

“Mmhm.” Heather nodded.

“So you really did groom her?” Emily teased and it was Heather’s turn to scoff, rolling her eyes.

“Just call her.” She half glared, “god knows she could use a night out, and one where she doesn’t have to rub elbows with politicians the entire time. She deserves a break and likely needs a good fuck, both of which I’m sure you can give to her.”

“We really don’t need to have that conversation.” She laughed, tucking the post it into her pocket, “but thank you. I will think about it.”

“Don’t think too long.” Heather smiled as Emily got up from her chair, scooping up her jacket from the back of it. “If you come back here in two weeks complaining about the shitty apps and you haven’t called her yet I’ll start feeding her lies about how much you suck.”

“Okay, okay.” She laughed, “I’ll call. And I’ll see you later.”

_________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #decadent desires #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #heather dunbar

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thecousinsdangereux · 1 month

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i just recently discovered your soulmate au and i loves it so much. so incredibly intriguing and well written and damn is it hot 🔥 thanks so much for sharing with us. in your mind, does it have a happy ending for them?

also wanted to ask if you'll be checking in to see the big warrior nun announcement coming tomorrow?

Ahhhh thank you! This ask is kind of tragic now given how everything with Warrior Nun ended up going, but I thought I'd use it as a way to share my ideas for the rest of a beggar in the morning, if anyone is interested in learning how it was going to go. Long story short, it was going to have a happy ending. :)

Here's a full outline for what I had in mind for the second half of the fic. Under the cut because it's very detailed in the parts that I'd started writing. Also in case anyone cares about spoilers? At the moment, I don't plan on finishing this fic, but I do plan on returning to writing in general, so guess there's a non-zero chance that I could come back to it. Stranger things have happened.

Beatrice keeps looking for the recipient of the Letter she's been trying to deliver and starts taking trips out into the countryside. She takes Ava's advice and takes to enjoying the journey - stopping into small cafes for lunch rather than eating in the car, taking the long way when it means she can enjoy a new view, etc.

During one of these side quests, she's told about a man who lives way off in the middle of nowhere who has the last name of Reis (the last name of the Letter recipient: Lara Reis), and she tracks him down. He had a sister who had a child with someone who was not her Match. I wanted to go more into what this looks like (and how the church is still anti-abortion in this world, because they think this could potentially ruin a future match, cue eye-roll) but in this case, the woman was basically run out of town. The man directs Beatrice to an orphanage where the child was raised.

This trail eventually goes cold because the orphanage has no records of the girl. They only know she left when she became of age.

The end of chapter six is basically Beatrice being frustrated and taking some 'advice' from Lilith to find someone to fuck hfkjshlk so she goes to the bar and ohhh nooo Ava is working that night, filling in for someone. Ava gets jealous, Bea does some shots, and it's basically a rehash of the lemon drop scene from the show, but hornier. Eventually, they make out, and decide to be friends with benefits.

Chapter 7 was honestly just going to be porn. lol. It's actually some of the first stuff I wrote for this fic - just a page of porn. Beggar came out of a Secret Santa fic exchange, and my friend Alex asked for lots of sex and a soulmate au. So... Chapter 7 was the payoff (part 2). Here's a few disjointed scenes, in case anyone is interested in reading some unedited very E-rated stuff.

A few months go by and all the nuns visit Beatrice for her bday and they're like huh so what's going on here and Beatrice has to pretend that it's not that serious with Ava (lol). I also wanted to do a conversation between Shannon and Beatrice where Shannon talks about the whole Mary thing and loving someone against the will of god (or at the very least, in the very gray areas).

The end of chapter seven is Ava finally talking about her past, which is that Ava doesn't remember hers. She woke up in a hospital without her memories and then spent the next decade traveling around trying to find something that felt like home.

In chapter 8, a lot of time passes, and the fucking continues. Beatrice is kind of losing it, poor girl.

I hadn't exactly decided what was going to happen next, but Ava was going to overstep in some way (or in some perceived way) and Beatrice was going to panic. Either Beatrice was going to have a brief thought about being in love, they were going to have reallyyyy soft sex, or something like that, but either way, Beatrice was going to have to admit she has deeper feelings for Ava than what's allowed allowed, so she goes back to Spain and ignores Ava's texts/calls/etc.

Eventually she realizes she owes Ava closure. She comes back and kind of explains why she's reacted the way she has. She gets more into why she joined the church and it's not for God or the Church itself, but because she does genuinely believe that love itself is holy. She admits she's falling in love with Ava, but she can't break her vows. She believes giving into her feelings would be putting herself above the whole history of love... the sanctity of the entire universe... and to be that selfish would be monstrous.

There's a callback to their early game of three questions, and how Ava still owes Beatrice one answer. Beatrice nearly asks if Ava loves her, but pulls back because she's scared of the answer. They basically break up, but Ava tells Bea to let her know when she's ready to ask her last question.

Beatrice takes it HARD. She buries herself in her work and starts visiting hospitals in various towns. She finds a Spanish doctor and he recognizes the number (or rather, the system behind the number) that is on Letter Beatrice is still trying to deliver. He tells Beatrice she's not looking for a hospital in Portugal, but rather in Spain - one in a small town in Andalusia. He mentions a patient who was in a coma, who woke up without her memories.

At this point, Beatrice obviously knows and she flies to Spain in daze. She visits the hospital, gives them the number, and asks for the name of the patient. When they'd brought the girl in, no one knew where she came from, she didn't have an ID, memories, etc. Nothing except for an old receipt from a restaurant in Portugal. ("Beatrice braces herself for what she already knows, but doesn't want to face.") The nurse at the hospital tells her they used a generic Portuguese name for the girl and it stuck: Ava Silva.

Beatrice visits Cat's Cradle because what else is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to deliver this Letter to Ava, who she's obviously in love with. She talks with Mary and we get the other side of the whole Mary/Shannon thing, and Mary is kind of like, okay, the Letters matter but they don't Matter. Beatrice asks Mary what she would do if she got a Letter (since Mary isn't a nun and could get one, but Shannon never could) and Mary basically says she would throw it away without opening it because she wouldn't want to give Shannon a reason to go self-sacrificial.

Of course, Beatrice doesn't really think this is her call to make. She's going to deliver Ava's Letter. There's this whole scene of her very dramatically and angstily getting ready for the delivery in the Official White Habit, then walking through the town she's come to associate so completely with Ava. And chapter 9 ends.

When Beatrice walks through the doors of the bar, Ava looks up, but doesn't seem surprised, even says 'oh, finally', which is pretty much the last thing that Beatrice expected, but then again, maybe it should have been the first, because Ava is always surprising her, and shouldn't she expect it by now? She asks Ava if she'd known that she was the person Beatrice had been trying to deliver to all along and Ava looks confused at this, like she hadn't considered that at all. "It's not that. I just knew my Letter would be coming because I'd already met you."

Beatrice is like, no no no. That's not how this works. It can't be me. I've been carrying this Letter with me this whole time - before I met you - and the Letters are only sent to a person when they've met their soulmate. And obviously, Beatrice is a nun and can't have a soulmate, etc. etc.

And then Ava says something like this: “Maybe every once in a while, God -- or the universe or whatever it is -- knows that it’ll be really hard to make two people meet organically, so it fudges the rules a little bit. Makes one girl a nun, makes another one hard to find, and sets up the dominos really early on."

And when Beatrice says she's being ridiculous/it's impossible, she says, "I know what’s in that letter. It’s you. I don’t need to open it to know it's you." and "Maybe it’s like some people say and god arranged it all. Fine. Then god chose me for you. Simple. He made me in this exact way, down to my hands and toes and whatever, so that I was perfect for his favorite creation in all of the universe. Because that has to be you."

And: "Or maybe it’s like what those other people say. You know - the past lives reincarnation stuff. Fine, then in our first lives we fell in love and then I found you in the second and third and the five hundredth. I found you and I picked you and I wanted you every time. Or okay, fine, maybe it’s what the the pseudo science people say. Even if those guys are right, I still know. It’s you because at the very start of the universe - at the very beginning of everything - we were the first two bits of something. The first two tiny little sparks. One of those was you and one of them was me. And even when we split off into a million trillion billion infinite pieces, the core of one was you. And the other one was me."

And: "In every religion or in any theory, the world exists so that I can find you again, and the world will do whatever it takes - bend the rules in whatever way - to make sure that at the exact right time, we would meet. And maybe it wasn’t perfect - maybe it was stupid hard for us to get to this point - maybe there was an easier way to make it happen - but I don’t care. Because it worked and I found you and I fell in love with you and I would do anything for that. So yeah. This Letter is telling me that I’m for you. That’s easy. It’s not faith. It’s just a fact.

And: "Besides, whatever’s on that paper? It’s going to be you. If it’s a picture of a butterfly, then it’s going to be you because of that time we went to the dam and one landed on your hand and you said “isn’t the world beautiful?” and that’s when I knew I loved you for the very first time. If it’s the notes to the first bar in At Last, then it’s you, because we used to play it all the time in the bar and I always thought it was fucking stupid to think you'd know like that right away, before everything, but it was the song that played in my head anyways when you walked in the bar that first night. There she is, I sort of thought, a dream that I can speak to."

"It could be any single word or phrase or letter and it would be you, because I love you and I love you so much I see you in every part of this entire world. I love you and I want to keep you with me always, and so you’re always there in my thoughts, slipping over and into everything else and I love it. It makes me love everything I see a little bit more, because it reminds me of you. It makes the world more beautiful."

"So, no offense, but I don't really give a fuck about the Letter. I already know it's going to be you. But I think you need to see it. So you know you’re not as selfish as you think you are."

And Beatrice admits that she wants to be with Ava anyways. Even if it makes her selfish. (Even if it makes her heretical.) Love is holy and what she feels for Ava is holy too, even if it's a sort of holy no one else will ever understand.

I went back and forth about whether they actually SHOULD open the Letter. lol. But I think I eventually settled on that they should, and that when Ava does open it, it's a blank page with like, 7 little dots and Beatrice is like??????????????? But Ava recognizes it instantly and it's the freckles on Beatrice's cheeks, the ones she's always tracing, and she does that again, following the ink on the paper.

Beatrice had been ready to give up her religion for Ava, so getting to keep it, maybe, suddenly is a LOT. She can't quite believe something divine would do something like this for her. But maybe she can believe that something divine would do something like this for Ava.

Later, I wanted Beatrice to have a conversation with Mother Superion. I thought it would be interesting to get into the philosophical bits of it. To debate if Ava could actually be right in her ideas about how this could be, and still fit into what they know about god/Letters/religion. I liked the idea of the conversation ending with neither of them really knowing, and Mother S being like, look girl, you'll never know for sure, but that sounds like faith to me. And Beatrice says no, no this is different, capital F Faith is for the divine. This is just trusting that Ava isn't lying about the freckles thing, or won't get tired of me, or won't find someone else. Etc etc etc. because it's panicking time for Beatrice, suddenly. And Mother Superion just raps her knuckles sort of in the most gentle way she can manage and says "That's love, Beatrice." in the way way someone might say "That's pussy, babe."

Beatrice does leave the church (though she eventually goes back to 'consulting' kind of like Mary). And when she does actually physically leave as well, Ava is waiting outside on a bench. Beatrice asks why she didn't just come inside, and she says something about being a little afraid of churches these days. She did steal god's favorite, after all.

And then they walk off into the sunset, with Beatrice being like wait a second, I thought you said this was all God's plan. And Ava shrugs and says that she would never willingly give Beatrice up, so god might come to her senses and change her mind.

I was going to end it there, but I did consider doing an epilogue as well. Early on in planning I had this idea where, years later, all the nuns regularly come over to the Silvas (because Ava does keep her 'second' name, though she does start to learn more about the Reis family, and meets her Uncle - the dude Beatrice learned about the orphanage from). And on one of these occasions, the nuns are all in white, and they're delivering Beatrice's Letter, which is addressed to Beatrice Silva. In the end, I decided against this, because I liked leaving it more open-ended, but nothing had been set in stone at this point, of course.

So yeah, that was going to be a beggar in the morning. lol. I plotted most of it out before I even started writing, because it wasn't the sort of story you could make up as you went and still tell it well. And I did want to tell the story well! There's a part of me that's sad that I wasn't able to, but I do think it was worth writing what I did. I really loved seeing people realize that Lara was Ava, even as early as chapter 5! And I also loved people coming up with theories about how Avatrice would be endgame. Some of them were honestly really good and maybe better than mine fhdskjhfd I had one person be like PLEASE let Ava's Letter be for someone else so they can metaphorically spit in god's face and honestly that was valid.

I don't know if anyone is going to bother to read this very, very long reply to an ask that doesn't actually ask for any of this, but it honestly just feels nice to put all these ideas together and 'complete' the story. Even if I've done it in the most half-assed way possible I am so sorry fhadskjlfhldsj

#sorry to use your ask from forever ago to go off about the planned ending of this fic #I had to combine notes from my phone google doc and physical journal to find all these details again so it was like I was rediscovering #my own fic #me at me as I was reading back: wow this shit is cheesy you are a huge loser #warrior nun #writing #a beggar in the morning

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angelmachines · 8 months

Text

teru & socialization

i've posted about this before but something ive been thinking about a LOT is mp100's themes of loneliness (and eventual connections). i think this is an aspect of teru's character (in particular) that gets left out because it's not as explicit but i've been wanting to do a deep dive on it for a while and i finally sat down to do it. just a warning, this post is gonna be LONG.

these two panels are from chapter 16 of the manga (which i'm using for my evidence because i. dont want to scrub through the anime LOL). initial sentiment: teru uses his powers to cheat having friends/a good social life and wouldn't have that if he tried earnestly. this is a fair interpretation of the scene. with what we know, at this point of time (as in within the teru-mob fight) teru would not be able to connect with other people earnestly, due to his mindset. which i think is a fair interpretation, HOWEVER:

(from chapter 17 ^^) the first panel shows teru's expression to be strained and the second is visibly unhappy. this puts the first set of panels into a different context, that maybe underneath all of this, teru doesn't WANT any of this life that he's built. keep in mind that i'm analyzing this with teru's possible autistic tendencies in mind & you dont have to believe he's autistic, im not your dad, but i do find this a pretty meaningful indication of masking if he were

(note: yes, the strain can definitely be read as comp-het, and i would agree but that's not relevant so go read this post on that instead)

even if the rest of these panels show teru content with his life, i think these expressions are pretty vital to how we read his life especially because we know so little of it. think about it, if you were a kid desperate for affection because you couldn't get it anywhere else, especially not in a way that would come off as "mature" or "unaffected", wouldn't you also look for validation in your popularity? even if it aligned you with people who you consider fundamentally different to you? my point here is that teru can't not stand out-- it's in his nature-- and we are shown how he tries to blend in & receive attention in the only way possible to him; which is to say that he molds himself into something that is palatable, likeable, and superior to other people. if he's nothing, like mob, he has spent his entire life covering up for it. if he fails socially, like mob, he has to be good at everything (even if he cheats to do so) so that everyone else can look past it.

(side note for my teru angst enjoyers: this is a panel of his mom. the mom who he hasn't seen in years. doesn't it make sense that, if he hasn't heard his mom say he's proud of him for literal years, that he would overachieve in response? not related to the autism thing i just have the teru bug. also don't be misogynistic in my notes both his parents suck we just get a singular mention of his mom)

so if teru couldn't meaningfully have friends before mob, that could very easily be because of his past mindset, right?

...except, we don't.. really... see him make other friends afterwards.

but, the awakening lab, right?

(ok i lied to you sorry there is one anime screenshot and thats because it stood out to me while i rewatched it earlier this month. sorry.) id like to bring attention to this screenshot during the cultural festival because the awakening lab can definitely be seen as a direct contradiction of this and i'd like to point out a couple things:

1) in this scene the shiratori brothers are in another room 2) them and the other three are friends with ritsu (or at least close enough acquaintances to want to see him).

considering this is one of the only times they appear together for Fun i am more inclined to believe this is an encounter where they went together because they all would've gone separately anyway. this isn't to discount the possible bond that these characters might have, but thats the thing. we... aren't really shown that they're friends and enjoy spending time together outside of this screenshot, where two out of six of the members are not even present. not to mention that teru is still placing himself in a role separate from his peers. despite stripping the superiority away, teru is still the awakening lab's mentor, not friend. teru still views himself as fundamentally different in a context where his psychic powers don't make him that way.

...except with mob. i bring this placement of power up because where he is the awakening lab's mentor, teru declares mob to be his rival, or, in other words, teru is just like him. he is accepting that mob and him are the same. (and if we view mob from an autistic lens... so on and so forth)

as if to hammer in that point even further-- in the summer vacation omake, teru explicitly states that "summer break is just a super long, super boring stretch of alone time." i'm not sure of the timeline here, but guessing from the hair, we're at least post season 1. which gives us explicit confirmation here that teru is spending the break alone despite his relationship to the awakening lab. his connection to mob is a lifeline here because mob is one of the only people who can intuitively understand teru's isolation without judgment

(also, on that point of teru's autistic tendencies: teru does and says a LOT of things that would raise other peoples eyebrows and doesn't seem to notice.

here we get teru actively admitting to his home life, right in front of reigen, WHO COULD CALL CHILD SERVICES ON HIM? this genuinely made me rethink this character entirely. teru's filter is... minimal. he isn't constantly volunteering information and generally minds his own business, but if you ask? Well.

teru is a social person, but to say he is proficient in understanding social situations seems... wrong. teru views his loneliness as boring because, despite being fairly open, does not actually allow himself to think about his own feelings and how they affect him. this loneliness is boring because he doesn't have enough of a reference to realize its not

if we are taking pre-mob teru to be a version of himself who is masking, or at the very least someone who is faking a lot of stuff in a less autistic sense, the fight with mob changes teru to the point where he no longer hides himself. in the same way that mob was able to shake teru's fragile superiority complex i think the change in appearance marks the end of the self teru had built up. from this point on we see him become a lot more... Him. his appearance and his fashion choices are, presumably, completely normal to him and we get no indication that he believes otherwise despite the reactions it gets-- which is... well, i wouldn't be writing this post if i thought it was one of his most neurotypical traits.

in fact, he seems... pretty oblivious to what other people think of him. which is an interesting distinction to make considering the intelligence we Know he possesses (which is not to say that you are unintelligent if you don't pick up on social cues, just that its common for media to depict it that way.) these traits are made pointedly, even if unintentionally, separate, ESPECIALLY when you note the amount of characters who Do ruminate on or stare at teru's appearance.

some examples. i don't even think this is all of it-- case in point.)

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mp100 meta #mp100 analysis #teruki hanazawa #fun fact this post was originally going to be about terus autistic traits and then i got scared sorry #mostly bc i was pointing out stuff that made me go Hes just like me Frrrr...#and i dont actually know if thats a good metric bc im only like 90% sure im autistic #tho i think writing 1000+ words on a characters potential autism is. um. its. well.#text #ok ive gone back and forth on posting this a billion times bc ive looked at it too much JUST READ THEPOST

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nova-is-a-writer-now · 29 days

Text

Hidden embers

Chapter 2

Chapter summary: Tensions rise during a church fundraiser, unexpected closeness with Joel begins to blur the lines between what’s right and wrong.

A/N: It took me so long to post this, school has been killing me lately, my sincerest apologies. This is a fun little chapter, wrote it a while back. I’m currently writing chapter 4 and I can’t wait for you guys to read that one. I hope you enjoy this 🤍

Warnings: No outbreak AU, Age gap, DBF!Joel, some accidental physical contact lol

Series masterlist

Two days after the barbeque, you’re woken up by the gentle touch of your dad stroking your hair.

“Hey, sweetheart.” he says almost in a whisper

You squint at the clock on your nightstand, its red numbers flashing in the dim morning light. The faint glow through your curtains barely illuminates your dad’s face. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong, kiddo. Just wanted to let you know I’m off to that church fundraiser we told you about. They need me and Joel to help with setting up lights and whatnot. Didn’t know if you’d wanna come”

You groan, rolling onto your back and closing your eyes. “Dad, it's 6:30 a.m on a Sunday. The only thing I wanna do right now is burrow myself in this bed for at least three more hours.”

He chuckles softly, standing up from where he was crouching next to your bed. “Alright, you’ll have to help your mom with the baking then. She’s gonna be selling all those pastries today and I bet she could use a sous-chef”

Before he can make it any closer to the door, you sit up in your bed and rub your eyes “I’m up. Be down in 5”

You cradle a hot cup of coffee to your chest, the summer heat creeping in very slowly this early in the morning. Your first stop is Joel’s house and even the struggle to keep your eyes open doesn’t distract you from the nervous flutter in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

You've been doing mental gymnastics, trying your damn hardest to keep your mind off of him, convincing yourself this is just a silly fixation and will pass as soon as you get used to seeing him around. Just push through it, and eventually, your heart will get the memo.

Your dad pulls up to his driveway and parks right next to his truck. The front door is in your direct line of sight when Joel opens it, carrying a couple boxes and a toolbelt slung over his shoulder. You have to make a conscious effort to not stare at his arms, at how big they get whenever he carries heavy things around—that proves to be a lot harder when he’s walking in a straight line towards you.

Thankfully, your dad gets out of the car to help, sparing you from further gawking. You hear him ask if there are any boxes left inside and from the way he heads back towards the house, you guess the answer is yes.You roll your window down to ask if he needs any help just as those strong arms you were trying to ignore rest themselves on the window frame.

“You didn’t strike me as an early bird.” Joel says, his eyes now leveled with yours, much closer than you had been two days ago.

Your cheeks betray you, flushing a shade of red that now feels reserved for him. “Do I strike you as my mom’s baking assistant for the entire day?” you retort, a grin sneaking onto your face.

You’d be lying through your teeth if you said you weren’t trying to earn another one of those earth shattering chuckles with your comment. Turns out you’re pretty good at it, because a second later he’s dropping his head, a low rumbly chuckle escaping him. “I reckon you don’t.”

His eyes come back up to meet yours, holding for a beat longer than they probably should, like he’s giving you one more tiny bread crumb to follow the trail, to figure out the riddle. Or maybe you’re just losing your mind, which is entirely possible.

Just when the tension between you two is about to reach a breaking point, your dad reappears with more boxes.

“A little help, pal? It wouldn’t kill ya,” he calls out, breaking the spell.

As your dad parks the car in front of the church, you spot Mrs. Calloway, the lively old lady you spoke to at the barbecue, waving energetically. The early morning sun casts long shadows across the church’s lawn, the air carrying the faint smell of freshly-cut grass.

“Oh good, you’re here!” she greets the three of you as you step out of the car.

“Mornin’, Mrs. Calloway. How’s the day treatin’ you?” your dad asks, hauling open the truck's tailgate.

“Oh, busy, so much to do. I see you brought me an extra pair of hands here,” she says, sidling up to you and giving your arm a friendly squeeze.

“Yeah, he was very convincing, couldn’t refuse the invite,” you reply with a polite smile. You've taken a real liking to Mrs. Calloway. She never talks about your parents when she chats with you. Instead, she asks about your life or shares stories about her cats—which is a refreshing change of pace.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t, pumpkin. I have a bunch of decorations to put up inside.” She leans in closer and half-whispers, “And for all their virtues, I wouldn’t trust these ones with decorating if it was my last day on earth.”

You can’t help but giggle just as a voice comes from the back of the truck. “Heard that.”

You turn to see Joel balancing a couple boxes with practiced ease “Is she wrong?” you ask, a teasing smile on your lips.

He grins, shaking his head. “No, she’s very right.”

“Oh, Joel could help you out” Mrs. Calloway suggests. “There are some pretty big containers stuffed in the back of the storage room with everything you’ll need. Why don’t you go grab them while we start setting up the tables out here?”

“You got it,” you say, trying to wave away the thought of being alone with Joel again.

You walk into the church with Joel trailing just behind, his presence is a comforting warmth against the cool morning air. The quiet of the church envelops you both, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly. You spot a door in the back corner “That’s the one?”

“That’s the one.” Joel confirms, taking the lead as you reach the storage room.

Inside, you find a mountain of containers piled up against the wall, with big brown boxes and plastic bags teetering on top.

“So, how many of these do we need?” you ask, hoping to distract yourself from how close he is.

“Just a couple to start with,” Joel replies, handing you one of the containers. “We’ll come back if we need more.”

You both carry the containers out of the storage room, the clatter of plastic echoing through the empty church hall.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Joel says, setting his container down and opening it. You follow suit, pulling out strings of lights, banners, and a variety of festive decorations.

“I didn’t think we’d be doing arts and crafts today,” you joke, unfurling a particularly colorful garland.

Joel smiles. “Yeah, not exactly my forte, but we’ll make it work.”

You pick a banner out of the container, large enough to hang from one column to the other, and spot metal hooks screwed all the way up—clearly where it’s meant to go.

You notice a small ladder pushed against a corner and leave Joel’s side to fetch it.

He only seems to notice what you’re up to once he hears the ladder scraping against the column

“Leave it, I'll take care of that.”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I’m not a lady in distress, I can hang up a banner on my own, Joel.” You reply stepping up on the ladder trying to test out its stability with a little bounce

“I know you can darlin’, but I’d rather do it myself. That ladder—”

“The ladder is fine, Joel. Go back to untangling those lights.” You’re not quite sure what you’re trying to prove – maybe this was an attempt at stripping away that childish image he had of you.

He disregards your comment and walks right to your side, his hands slightly stretched out like he's preparing to catch you.

“You’re being so dramatic,” you say climbing to the highest point of the ladder.

Sure, it’s old but if it held up this long it could hold for a little bit longer. “See? I’m just fine, I just gotta hook this up here…”

As if on cue, the ladder starts creaking ominously just as you stretch your arm out to reach the hook. Not half a second later, the rusty metal piece that was holding all your weight up snaps and Joel’s arms wrap around your body, pulling you safely against his chest.

For the second time that day, you could say that was the closest to Joel you’ve ever been. His face just inches away from yours, both arms holding you securely, the woody, musky scent your brain had labeled as uniquely his, overwhelming your senses.

Words failed you as you stared into those deep brown eyes, and every part of you wanted to believe it was just the shock of the fall, but it was getting harder and harder to keep shamelessly lying to yourself.

When he finally breaks the silence, it’s pretty much a lost battle. “Will you stop being so stubborn and let me help you now?”

“Favorite color”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Joel chuckles once again, and at this point, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve pulled that off. With Joel Miller, even a small chuckle feels like a major accomplishment.

After spending the entire morning decorating the inside of the church (most of which you spent explaining to him he couldn’t mix the red decorations with the green ones because it wasn’t christmas), you were both assigned raffle duty. You sold the tickets and Joel put them in the big raffle draw, using the lever to mix them up as he went.

The two of you sat behind a little stand, and in your best attempt to hear as much as you could of that sweet, caramel-y drawl, you convinced him to play twenty-questions. Each of you took turns asking the other whatever popped into your heads, and the other had to answer honestly.

Your questions ranged from what animal he would choose to turn into if he could shapeshift at will, to his favorite subjects back in high school, and even who in your family he would take to a deserted island if he knew he’d have to partner up to make it out alive. (He picked you, obviously. Your dad was terrible at functioning in high pressure situations). His questions on the other hand had been generic at best, deadly boring at worst.

You leaned back in your chair, the wooden slats creaking under your weight, and gave him a playful glare.

“You said any question that popped into my head,” he defends himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Oh and you’re dying to know my favorite color, are you?” you ask back, dripping with sarcasm.

“I’ll lose sleep over it if you don’t tell me” his voice gets low and serious in complete contrast to how ridiculous his statement is.

“Blue,” you admit, “but not the default shade of blue everyone thinks of, more like a ‘clear water lake’ kind of blue” you look back at him and he just kind of stares, like he's too distracted by you to even register the answer to his question. “What’s your’s?” you ask, pulling him out of his trance.

“Brown.”

You laugh at his answer.

“Something funny?” he asks

“Only you, Joel Miller, would have brown as your favorite color.”

“It’s a perfectly normal favorite color.” He says defensively, a little frown creasing his features.

“Joel, it’s the most boring of colors, it’s not even a color in itself, it's all the colors mushed together.” you giggle at the absurdity of the conversation, leaning in closer, enjoying the banter more than you care to admit.

“It’s practical, goes well with everything, looks good in any house—an easy, simple color.”

“But your favorite color isn’t supposed to be about practicality, it’s supposed to be about which one you like the most.” You argue back.

“You tryna tell me how to pick my own favorite color, kid?” he teases you, receiving only a death stare in return.The warmth in his eyes makes your heart skip. “Fine, it’s green.”

“See? That's a normal favorite color”

“Yeah, and you’re a piece a’ work.” he mutters, shaking his head, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips that tells you he’s enjoying this as much as you are.

Just like that, Joel Miller makes the rest of the day easy to get through. Even with the awkward feeling of being an outsider, looking through a window into a room full of people who’ve known each other their whole lives, he manages to ground you. He’s either pulling you into senseless conversation or letting you bask in a comfortable silence, and both feel like a lifeline.

By the end of the day, you walk around helping Ms. Calloway clear out the tables, throw all the empty cups and disposable plates into a trash back and group up the chairs so your dad can take them back inside.

During one of your ‘picking up leftover trash’ rounds, you see your mom standing next to Joel’s truck. He’s right beside her loadingback up the tools he’d brought with him this morning. You knew Joel was a lot colder and closed off with other people—that's what earned him his grump reputation in the first place—but in the short time you’ve been around him since you came back, you’ve never seen him be so stiff around anyone like he is with your mom.

That is certainly a rare sight, given your mom was one to charm any and everyone who crossed her path. Pageant queen, cheerleader, hair larger than life type—your mom is a sight for sore eyes, even you have to admit that. It was hard to engage in conversation with her and not be dazzled by her looks and also by her bubbly personality, or the persona she put on for others at least. It almost seemed like she hadn’t been told no once in her entire life.

But Joel seemed immune to it, no warm smile on his face, no polite small talk, not even gentleman-like behavior beyond the strictly necessary. In fact, something in his face told you he couldn’t wait to get on his truck and leave. He stands with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, every line of his body screaming discomfort.

You watch the two of them from a distance, your mom batting her eyelashes up at him, her body leaning towards him slightly, trying to close the gap he’s so obviously desperate to maintain. Meanwhile, Joel looks like he’s doing everything in his power to keep his distance, stepping closer and closer to his truck’s tailgate. His jaw is set like stone, eyes flicking to the side as if searching for an escape route, and you can almost see the tension radiating off him in waves.

Your mom leans in closer, her voice dropping to what she probably thinks is a conspiratorial whisper. Even from a distance, you can see Joel’s eyes narrow, a flicker of something like annoyance passing over his face before he schools his expression back to neutral.

An unshakable uneasiness tugs at your chest that won't allow you to walk away, against your best instincts you decide to barge in.

“Hey, Mom!” you chirp, sliding right up next to Joel. “I think Mrs. Calloway is looking for you. Something about the pies?”

Your mom turns to you with a bright smile, though there’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes that’s hard to miss. “Oh, I’m sure she can manage without me for a moment,” she says, but you can tell she’s not thrilled about being interrupted.

Joel gives you a grateful look, his eyes meeting yours with a silent thanks. You catch a slight relaxation in his shoulders, like he’s the one being thrown a lifeline this time.

“Actually, Mom, she seemed really insistent,” you retort, trying to sell the urgency of the situation. “You know… with the wrapping things up and all.”

Your mom hesitates, her gaze flicking between you and Joel. Finally, she relents with a sigh, though the look she gives you says this conversation is far from over. “Alright, I’ll go see what she needs. But we’re not done talking about this, Joel,” she says, her voice carrying an edge that makes your skin crawl, before turning on her heel and striding away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, Joel exhales a long breath. He extends you one more polite nod and jumps into the truck without another word. You don’t like the feeling it gives you, not one bit.

Before you can dwell too much in your thoughts, you hear your mom’s voice calling your name, and you turn to see her motioning for you to join her. Here comes the earful.

With a resigned sigh, you make your way over to her, bracing for the inevitable.

“Sweetheart,” she begins in a voice that’s both sugar and vinegar, “you really shouldn’t interrupt when adults are talking. It’s important to know your place.”

You nod, biting back the retort on the tip of your tongue. “I know, Mom. I just thought you might want to check on Mrs. Calloway.”

She narrows her eyes, as if trying to read your mind. “If you go around behaving like a heathen, it reflects poorly on me. You’d do well to remember that.”

You stare back at her, head high and an unfaltering cool facade. She used to intimidate you, this tone used to make you feel so small and insignificant, but it doesn’t anymore. Hasn’t for a good while now. “Got it,” you reply, forcing a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

#dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou joel #joel x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #Hidden embers

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seirindono · 2 months

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two questions.

one, HOW DOES ONE COMIC/STORY BOARD??

IM OBSESSED WITH HOW YOU DO IT ITS SO BEAUTIFUL

two, HOW DO YOU SO IT SO FAST( that’s question is more just me being super impressed oh my goodness)

you’re very good😳

Aw, sweet, a board question *puts on serious glasses*

Ok, bring it on anon.

So, the first thing to ask yourself when starting a comic, as I see it, is what type of board are you dealing with. Webtoon? A4 pages? 4 panels? There are many ways to go about it, and each involves different processes. For example, pages will allow for more superfluous scenes, whereas the webtoon format has to be super succinct because of the reading direction. I personally think that's the main reason I do pages, among other advantages: •narrative density •variety •Tumblr-friendly format

There are quite a few disadvantages too but you have to go through the process of trials and errors to really find out what suits you best!

Then there's the ambition of the sequence you're boarding for. And it goes from 1. how used I am to boarding this kind of sequence/drawing these characters/setting and backgrounds, to 2. is it an emotional sequence? Dialogue-heavy? Or more contemplative?

It changes the way you work and how you should approach your board! For example, in TMS, the very wordy chapters (4 and 5 for ex) generally called for simple and narrow framing. Of course, you don't want to bore the reader so you can spice things up to match the characters mood and reactions once in a while, but you have to bear in mind that the sequence aims to provide dialogue and information = the text bubbles are key and WILL take a lot of place. So let them.

( then again, it's all about pacing and balance. A page full of dialogue and one with too much happening are equally hard to read and boring to do)

Only dialogue, simple squares, no compostion, the focus is on Mel's reaction

On the other hand, parts 7 and 8 are all about action and atmosphere! This makes for wider and more varied shots!

They're fighting, things are going fast so why not use a single line to show many actions! They're still basically squares and rectangles but the pacing is totally different!

Or why not give the action a full page to really show its sheer impact

You can also split things, with a zoom or small time gap, depending on if it's a gag or if you want to put the focus on a reaction. Here, the asymmetry helps reinforce the unstable, jerky aspect of the scene. The situation is getting out of hand, and visually, the pages are affected too.

Now, these are case-by-case examples. And I never work on my pages separately.

For context, this-

-is the "first" board I did for part 8.

The drawings are very small and frankly difficult to make out, but the intention is what matters at this point lol I have the script (very important) next to my canvas, and I scribble the pages one after the ither. This allows me to see if the actions flow well, if the compositions are varied and also whether certain passages are too long or too short in regard to their importance. Which scenes can be merged? Removed? Toned down or if they deserve more bite?

This is a really fun and creative part but, I'll say it again, made a lot easier with a solid scipt. And I'm talking about a text document with clearly defined dialogues (or at least outlines) and actions.

I can't really explain how to write a script, it really depends on your work flow and how confortable you are with writing, but it's too important to just rush through it. No matter how much it changes before, during or after your finish boarding (cuz you gotta break your own rules sometimes and you'll often realize some things don't work as well once you put them on paper/sometimes art block can be resolved by writing the scene and just taking the time to imagine) but it's still your one guideline.

Aaaand, that's about it.

Other than that, I can only highly recommend reading lots of comics, Webtoon, books, watching movies, paintings, illustrations, animatics or listening to music, to inspire you and expand your own "personal library of references". Professional or not, anything your find inspiring and well executed. Boarding is at its core, telling stories. No art skill involved, just pure subjectivity. At the end of the day, it's all about squares, rectangles and bubbles so you gotta work on your creativity. The rest is gut feeling!

Constantly ask yourself how to tell this story, and how you want to tell it. How this sequence should be perceived? What do you need to show to make pages and pages of words appealing and interesting.

Be patient, be bold. Start with easy stuff to get some confidence if you need to. Accept that "boring" pages are smt necessary and that it's up to you to build up tension for a scene to really pop. Try new ideas and be ready to scrap many of them, the result will be worth all the work!

Now, concerning the "fast" part, I'm flattered but I personally think I'm super slow xD You prbly get that impression bc I finish the whole chapter before posting it, but behind the scene, I'm just working at a very regular pace.

Thank youuu anon ♡( ◡‿◡ )

#ask #ask me #forgot the tag I use for those errr #tuto #boarding is so much fun *sigh* unlike this *looking at the pile of pages waiting for lineart*#I personnaly prefer boarding for animatic but comics are fun cuz I know I'll get to actually see the final result haha #I know some artists love to do intricate shots with lots of details and pers (big flex here) but I'm more about the vibe really xD

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cosmitton · 4 months

Text

my friends should know i don’t listen by now

Johan Seong X F!Reader (foreign)

A/N: It’s been a while since I wrote anything, sorry about that! I just finished my Spring semester of university and am set to graduate at the end of this year, so I’ve been busy lol. This one is a bit more romantic than the others, though they’re not really in a relationship yet. Idk what chapter this takes place around, exactly, but it’s a little while after the first 2 I wrote. (Maybe around chapter 283, the end of Hostel, or a little bit after that?)

This is a continuation of this and this that I wrote before, if you haven’t read them. Same reader. Also, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think Zoe’s ever met Johan? Right?

Once again, I hope you enjoy and please let me know if anyone’s OOC or anything I need to improve. Thank you! c:

masterlist

Warnings: None

Summary: Johan comes to pick you up from school to go to the park. For the first time, your school friends find out who you’ve been spending time with.

You’re so into finishing with writing your notes that you don’t even realize that class has ended already. Not until you’re pulled from your thoughts, at least.

You hear your name being called and turn to see Daniel at the doorway to your classroom. Of course, Zack, Vasco, and Zoe are with him – and another girl… Mira, you think? The girl Zack has a crush on. You haven’t really spoken to her, seeing as you’re in the baking department while she’s in the fashion department with the others – and she’s not as outgoing as Zoe is to introduce herself, she seems nice though.

You nod to him, starting to pack up your things. You almost forgot that you have a date – well, not really, but kind of. It’s a good thing Daniel pulled you back to Earth or you would’ve been late, and your date would’ve been pouty, despite how much he denied that he ever pouted.

“Hey,” you stand up, putting the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, “sorry.”

“Take your time.” Daniel smiles, ever polite.

“Hurry up.” Zack huffs, but cowers when Mira looks at him chidingly.

“How was your day?” Vasco asks, always the buff, oblivious golden retriever.

You smile fondly at him, “fine, thanks. Yours?”

Vasco prattles on about everything that he and Jace, and the rest of Burn Knuckles, did today as your group walks out of school together. Admittedly, you stop listening once you get outside, looking around for your date – he should be meeting you at the gates. You see a couple of other students glancing confusedly in a direction and chattering with each other, and when you turn to look in that direction, you see him.

“Johan!” You raise your hand in the air as he looks up, straightening up from the way he was leaning against the pillars at the entrance of the schoolyard, to show that you’ve seen him and are on your way. “Hey, guys, I’ll see you late–”

You’re cut off when someone gently, but firmly, pulls you back. You turn to see Vasco with his hand on your arm, staring straight ahead at Johan with a tense look. The others in your group seem to have similar looks of apprehension or surprise on their own faces – except for Zoe, who just seems curious.

“Who’s that guy? He’s cute. Is that your boyfriend?!” It’s cute how Zoe seems genuinely excited about the prospect.

Vasco says your name tensely, and you turn to see the concern on his face. “You know him? Did you invite him here?”

You take another glance around the group – they’re all watching you now, “You guys know him? He’s my friend.”

“Do you know him? I mean, really know him? You should be careful around him, he’s–”

“It’s fine, Vasco. I can handle myself. And he’s a good guy.”

Vasco seems about to refute that, but Daniel steps in this time, “are you sure? Do you know what he’s involved in–”

“It’s not my business. And, no offense, but this isn’t yours.” You pull your arm out of Vasco’s grasp. “Thanks, guys, really. Don’t worry about it.”

You start to back away when Zack steps forward, a mix of eager and some kind of concern – though you don’t think it’s for you because Mira has a similar look, though she’s staring at Johan with shock as well. You wonder how they know him, and why they’re so surprised to see him, but you don’t ask – that also isn’t your business, and Johan will tell you in due time. “Wait, how do you know him?”

You turn toward Johan now, “see you later!” Now that you look at the brunette, he’s definitely pouting – figures.

You ignore Zack calling after you to answer his question and jog to meet with Johan and his dogs. “Hey,” you aim at the boy while you pet Eden and Miro in greeting.

He doesn’t answer. You look up to see that he’s glaring back at the group of your school friends, before he turns and starts walking away without you. You laugh slightly before catching up with his long strides. Your friends have bothered him, but you don’t ask why because you know that he’ll end up saying it anyway. It just takes him a minute, it’s like he can’t help himself.

As expected, he finally speaks, “you’re friends with those guys?”

You hum, knowing it’ll annoy him that you don’t elaborate further. But he never does, so why should you?

You can almost hear him roll his eyes, “and that big idiot? You’re friends with him? Really?”

“Vasco’s nice.” You offer.

Johan scoffs, “he’s not that great. Why is everyone so hung up on him?”

“Everyone?”

He doesn’t elaborate, of course.

You try again, really twisting the knife. “Jealous?”

He finally looks at you, half-annoyed and half-aghast. “Of what? Ignorance and failing grades?”

“You’re not even in school.”

“Shut up.”

You laugh as he turns away again, “you’re pouting~.”

“’M not.”

“Are.”

“Not.”

“Are.”

“Not–”

“Isn’t he?” You turn to Eden and Miro with your ‘stupid voice’ – as Johan calls the baby talk you naturally do with dogs – to ask them, “isn’t it so obvious that your dad’s pouting?”

“Don’t bring them into this.” Really, it’s adorable to you the way Johan is scandalized as if his dogs can actually understand and agree with you.

Eden and Miro both bark anyway, excited by the attention. You laugh, “see? They know it, too.”

“Traitors.”

#lookism #lookism x reader #johan seong x reader #seong johan x reader #seong yohan x reader #johan seong #seong johan #seong yohan #lookism webtoon #my writing

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soren-apologist · 3 months

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i wonder if the reason soren can cast magic silently is because of his dragon blood

it’s canon that soren doesn’t actually verbalize his incantations when casting thanks to the fact he was taught magic years before anyone ever bothered to help him learn how to speak, hence the “silent master of winds” moniker. heck, we even see it during lucia’s execution cutscene where soren is visibly mouthing the words for elwind but is entirely inaudible.

considering no one else can apparently do this (based on how the silence staff works, and ignoring the fact that those also affect soren because of gameplay reasons), i’m curious as to what exactly makes soren so special. it’s possible that the sage that taught him magic was the one who gave him this technique, but since soren never mentions him also being able to do this, he may have just figured out how to do it himself since the sage apparently never bothered to teach him how to even speak to begin with.

it’s a given that branded will have unique abilities based on their laguz parentage, but it’s only really ever expanded upon with micaiah, who can heal others at the expense of her own health, read hearts, and has the ability to see events in the future. meanwhile, the only thing we really know about soren is that it’s implied that he has a perfect sense of direction because of scenes like fe9 chapter 17 where he mentions knowing exactly where he was in the burnt serenes forest when even ike was getting confused, as well as it offering an explanation for how, exactly, he was able to track ike all the way to crimea with nothing but a vague memory and a dream.

with that said, i propose that being half-black dragon, the most powerful variant of laguz on the continent, grants soren two other abilities:

1. draconic heart-reading

2. unusually high magical talent

the first thing isn’t really relevant for this specific topic even though it does offer a reason why soren is so “empathetic” despite how prickly and misanthropic he is, but the second gives a possible explanation for how he was able to develop that sort of unique ability at such a young age. (it also gives an in-universe reason for why soren, a teenager, ends up a significantly more powerful mage than characters like calill and bastian who both have decades of experience over him, but growths > bases isn’t exactly important here either lol.) silent casting could just be something soren who was already considered a magical prodigy was able to create all by himself, but i’d argue it’s plausible that if his dragon blood wasn’t directly responsible for him being able to do it, then at the very least it’s the reason why he was so adept at magic to begin with.

to be more specific on that last point, it’s important to keep in mind that laguz heritage not only gives unique, non-beorc abilities, but also affects any sort of natural talents the branded may have. stefan is an incredibly talented and adept swordsman because of the naturally high strength and skill of a lion, while micaiah is a poor combatant but excellent healer because of her heron blood, who themselves are pacifists entirely incapable of fighting but instead heal and energize their allies. as such, black dragons have unusally high magical stats despite their breath attacks using strength, so i’m willing to bet that if one were to use tomes in combat instead of transforming, their solid magic and skill along with their high resistance would make them formidable opponents. those 3 stats are actually all ones soren happens to excel in, so i believe that it wouldn’t be a massive stretch to claim that black dragon blood grants its owners a natural gift for casting magic.

to sum all this up, while i do think it’s possible that soren is literally just so good at magic he was able to pull a toph beifong and invent an entirely new method of casting, it could still be a result of his dragon blood granting him unique abilities— and honestly, with all the bullshit he had to endure just because he has that dragon blood, giving him special powers is the very least it could do for him.

#whenever i write out shit like this i feel like that meme of charlie trying to solve who pepe silvia is #tellius #long post

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sebuckyverse · 2 years

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roommates [chapter 2]

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson broke your heart once. Now, you have no choice but to move in with him. chapter summary: Moving in, you realize Eddie has changed in more ways than one. You reminisce about that night. warnings: 18+ cussing, angst, sort of enemies to lovers lol; lmk if i missed anything word count: 3,4k a/n: part 2 loves!! let me know what you think i'm nervous about this chapter! LOVE YOU ALL tysm for the positive feedback *mwah* inspo for eddie's tat from here taglist full

↞ previous chapter ↡ masterlist ↡ askbox

chapter two ♫♪♩·.¸¸

It was almost 3am when you made it to Eddie's place. You took an Uber since Eddie claimed his precious baby, aka the shitbox van he still had, was at the shop until tomorrow, or today in this case. Eddie flipped on the lights and waltzed in, his arms open wide as he twirled around the living area.

''Tada!''

You were pleasantly surprised at how nice his place was. It was a bit messy, like he said, but you immediately felt drawn into it, intrigued to dive into the place. It was Eddie's and this was an unfiltered look into who he was today.

The living room was airy, a beige loveseat with an array of random throwpillows that didn't match each other at all in front of the TV, a a slightly dusty glass coffee table sat in front of it, topped with an unwashed mug and half empty glass of water, with a colorful Aztec rug underneath. The kitchen was white and modern with all the necessary appliances, sat against a natural red brick wall that made the space look cozy and warm. The only bathroom you were to share with Eddie was smaller than the one you had before, but big enough to fit a single sink vanity, a round mirror on the wall, a shower with a glass door and a small, but comfortable clawfoot tub. You noticed a couple shampoo bottles on the floor in the shower, along with a loofa hanging from the shower faucet. Ending in the bedroom that would be yours, it was accentuated with a king size bed, two nightstands on either side, with a big closet and a smaller dresser. It was probably the only room in the apartment that felt lifeless at the moment, you couldn't wait to transform it into your own space. Before you went to turn around, you noticed the door to the adjacent room was cracked open. It must have been Eddie's, you could only make out a few posters on the wall and a candle sitting on a nightstand, next to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues. Gross.

Overall, you gave it a solid 7 out of 10. It was definitely an upgrade from the tiny trailer he used to live in.

''It's nice,'' you said.

''It's home.''

You nodded, hiding the yawn that tried to escape.

Eddie nodded his head towards the bedrooms and started walking in the same direction, you following suit. ''So, fresh sheets are in the dresser, towels are in the bathroom. I have a spare key lying around somewhere that I can give you tomorrow. For everything else, we can figure it out along the way.''

You nodded, holding your hands behind your back so he wouldn't see your nervous fingers rubbing against each other. ''Thank you, for this. It's only temporary, until I can get my own deposit together. Then I'll be out of your hair.''

''You don't have to thank me. It's the least I can do.''

You stopped, standing in front of the adjacent doors like the neighbors you now were. It's the closest you've been to him in a long time, both literally and figuratively. He was taller than you, in the best way, with the top of your head fitting under his chin perfectly. You braved to look up at him, finding him already looking down at you. He averted his eyes as soon as they met yours though.

''Okay.''

''Okay,'' he repeated, taking a step back. You gripped the strap of your bag and pushed your door open.

''Good night, Eddie.''

''Night.''

In the safety of your new room, all alone, you took a deep breath. You dropped your overnight bag onto the mattress and fetched out your favorite pajama set, changing into them. You placed your bag next to the bed and opened the dresser, finding your bedding. The pillowcases and duvet cover were easy, but the fitted sheet seemed to fight back every chance it got, slipping off one corner when you went to the opposite one. Groaning out loud for the millionth time, you went to try again when there was a knock on your door.

''What the hell are you doing? It sounds like a porno in there,'' Eddie's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

''You wish. I'm just messing with the sheets,'' you shouted back, now on top of the mattress on all fours, pulling the sheet over the upper left corner. Gently, you held your hands in the air when it didn't budge and started to shimmy your way to the other side, when the sheet snapped back again and hit you straight in the face.

''Ow!''

''Are you okay?''

The door burst open, Eddie barging in, naked. Okay, he wasn't completely naked, he was wearing tight black boxers that left little to the imagination. You and Eddie never slept together in high school, but you did other things and you remember very well how his body felt against yours, or how warm he always was. You were crouched on your side, holding one side of your face, your mouth drier than the Sahara desert seeing Eddie like this. You'd never seen him naked either, only with his shirt off and you were right about him working out. His chest was more toned than before, his stomach rippled with the smallest dusting of abs, a sharp V line that you never noticed before, ending in the light thatch of hair on his abdomen that disappeared into his boxers. He had more tattoos too, he'd once shown you all of them. He had more smaller tattoos littered on his arms, just various simple doodles really. His right thigh was covered in colorful ink, starting from under his boxers and stopping above his knee. The one piece of ink that caused you to have a near aneurysm was the one below his belly button, three phrases all lined up under each other, like a tiny poem above his pelvis. Stark black ink, all capital letters.

TRUST ME LOVE ME FUCK ME

''Y/N!''

''Huh? What?''

Eddie was looking at you, brows furrowed, but his eyes held their typical mischief. He'd caught you staring, that was obvious. Even a blind person would notice that ogling.

''I asked if you were okay?''

''Y-yeah, sorry. Got hit in the face with the sheet, stupid thing won't hold down.''

Eddie snorted and held his hand up for you to grab. You took it hesitantly and he helped you stand up. ''Here, you get that side, I'll grab this one.''

Working together, you got the sheet on the bed in twenty seconds tops. You elected to ignore the way his back muscles rolled or how his thick thighs moved so smoothly, no thigh gap in sight.

''Are you working tomorrow?'' he asked.

''No, thank fuck.''

''Need me to tuck you in?''

''Goodbye, Edward.''

''Cute pajamas, by the way!''

Pushing Eddie out and slamming the door in his snickering face, you fell on the fresh sheets, barely being able to pull the covers up when you were already sleeping.

♡

Ten hours later, you were up and hauling in six boxes full of your personal belongings that you had retrieved from your old apartment. Eddie was still asleep when you left and you didn't want to wake him either. Last night was a set back for you, a mere hour after you swore to yourself you wouldn't fall for him again, you were wishing you had x-ray vision to see through those tight boxers. You blamed it all on being exhausted, you let your guard slip. Then again, that lower belly tattoo he had stayed with you all morning. He had always been a pretty guy in your eyes, but this... upgraded version of him was something much more obscene. He was his same self, personality wise, but that fact added with how good he looked in his almost mid twenties, how he carried himself with more confidence than ever before, was enough to kill a woman.

You were pushing a box of clothes across the hardwood floors, when the door to Eddie's bedroom opened, the sun from his room shining into the hallway. He was wearing pants this time, a pair of grey sweats so low on his hips, you could easily spot that tattoo again. No shirt, of course, but his messy hair was up in a bun, which you thought was cute. He'd never worn it like that. Eddie crossed his arms, leaning on the doorframe.

''Excuse me miss, are you looking for a big, strong man to help you with these boxes?''

''Yeah, you know where I can find one?''

Keening in victory, you grinned at his unamused glare towards you. Pointing your head toward the entrance, you told him about the last box.

''Thank you,'' you said, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. Eddie placed the last box next to your bed, grunting.

''Jesus, what do you have in here, a body?''

''Books,'' you deadpanned.

''Oh, what kind?'' he asked, looking around the room.

''Eh.. fantasy, romance, one Kamasutra book.''

Eddie's head whipped around so fast, his bun wobbled on top of his head. His already big eyes were ready to pop out any second. You giggled, which burst into a full belly laugh when he realized you were joking. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, marching out of the room.

You busied yourself with unboxing everything. You hanged your clothes in the closet, lining your shoes up at the floor of the wardrobe, storing your bras and panties in the drawers of the dresser, leaving a couple bottom drawers empty. You stacked your new unread books on your nightstand, patiently waiting to be read. The room started to come together nicely - the dresser was topped with picture frames, one with your mom and the other with your friends at a night out, all looking at the camera with your glasses raised. The final box contained the last of your things, tiny items mostly. Your shampoo and conditioner, a make up bag, other skin care amenities, your bright pink vibrator, a gift from one of your friends, that you quickly stashed away into the top drawer of your nightstand.

Hours later, your things were put away, Eddie had gone to work, you had taken a 30 minute power nap and were now standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on your hips, lips pursed. Now what? It sounded silly, but until now, it hadn't even occurred to you that you now have to live with Eddie. He said you wouldn't see each other much, but you lived in the same apartment, thinking you would never see each other was just wishful thinking. You thought about just chilling in your room or watching TV in the living room, maybe read one of those books you bought. But looking around the place, it was clear that it needed a good clean. A deeper investigation into Eddie's fridge, cabinets and drawers indicated that you were headed for a long night.

Lucky for you, Eddie wasn't completely helpless, or perhaps they were Steve's input into the apartment, but you found a pair of rubber gloves, a sponge and a couple of cleaning products. You cleaned the fridge, throwing out an expired carton of milk and a moldy lemon, rearranging the items so they made more sense. The cabinets weren't that bad, so you only took everything out to dust the insides. You perfected the silverware drawer, swiped down the kitchen counter and every other flat surface you could find, loaded up the dishwasher and turned it on, fluffed up the throwpillows on the couch and with a strong finish, found a vacuum and swept the whole apartment, excluding Eddie's room. You stayed out of his room, feeling like you were violating his privacy, no matter how nosy you were. Or maybe that's what you told yourself, maybe you didn't want to take a peek because the last time you saw Eddie was in his old room, in his trailer he shared with his uncle. The day that he broke your heart.

It was a hot summer night, the brisk walk to Steve's house still managing to coat the back of your neck in a sheen of sweat. Late night on the 4th of July weekend, the streets were empty, most people still in town celebrating the long weekend. The closer you got to Steve's house, the louder the thumping music got, dulling out the chirping coming from the bushes lining the street.

Pushing Steve's front door open, you were instantly hit with a thick haze, cigarette smoke lingering in the air as nobody had bothered to open a window. Teens and barely legal adults were lining the hallways, dancing in the living room to your left and playing beer pong in the kitchen to your right while Michael Jackson's Bad boomed through the entire house. You were looking around for your friends, but didn't see any of them, neither did you see the wild haired metal head who had asked you to be his date for tonight.

You shot Eddie a quick text, asking where he was. Feeling silly still standing in the hallway, you pushed through the crowd, dodging a couple making out near the bathroom, ignoring the wolf whistle when you passed two guys sharing a cigarette. Clutching your phone in one hand, you used the other one to try and pull your skirt down, suddenly feeling alone and too exposed. You'd hoped to impress Eddie tonight, putting together an outfit you didn't usually wear - a Nirvana crop top with a dark green pleated skirt, black fishnets underneath, finished with a brand new pair of Dr. Martens.

In your - then naïve - heart, you hoped tonight would be the night he'd finally ask you to be his. You'd been going out for weeks now, hanging out in his trailer, studying together, driving around in his van. Eddie always sought you out in school, smiling when he found you at your locker. He'd kiss you every time he dropped you off at home, hold your hand when you navigated the endless rows at the library, buy you cotton candy at the annual fair, call you every night to wish you sweet dreams. Isn't that what boyfriends did? Even your group of friends had started asking questions, Robin specifically. What were you - friends, lovers, strangers?

You knew Eddie and his upbringing, which is why you never pushed him for answers. The timeless classic of 'what are we' always scared every guy off anyway. You figured he had a harder time coming to terms with his feelings. However, the more you spent time together, the harder you were falling for him. Hell, you'd already fallen off that ledge a while ago and you were only sinking deeper and deeper. He was Eddie, your Eddie. Sweet and thoughtful, the way he always hummed a song when you cuddled together in front of the small TV in his trailer. You always found it hard to fall asleep when he wasn't there, lulling you to sleep.

Nearing the back of the house, you could hear splashes and cheering coming from the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you picked up your steps when the double doors came in sight. Before you could make it though, someone called your name and grabbed you by the shoulder, spinning you around.

''Woah, look at you!'' Steve cheered. ''You look amazing.''

Steve pulled you in a quick hug, swaying a little bit when he pulled back. You wanted to laugh, he looked like a drunk child, bobbing his head to the music, his hair even more fluffy than usual. His eyes were rimmed red, popping open a can of beer.

''Thanks, Steve-O.'' You pushed his chest, giggling when he grabbed your hand to steady himself. ''Where's Eddie?''

Steve looked over your shoulder, scratching the two freckles on his left cheek. ''Uh, he's here somewhere. Think I saw him going to the upstairs bathroom.''

Your stomach dropped, Steve only did that when he was nervous. Why was he nervous?

''You sure? I think I heard him by the pool,'' you challenged.

Quickly grabbing your arm, Steve started pulling you towards the kitchen. ''No, no, I think that's Carver and his boys. Let's make you a drink! You look great by the way, did I mention that?''

''Steve, stop. What's going on?''

''Nothing! Just want to make you a drink, come on. What'cha want? Bloody Mary maybe?''

Steve's grip on your wrist was firm, you wouldn't be able to just pull free. Falling to dirtier tactics, you mumbled a sorry before kicking him in the back of his knee, your arm being freed when Steve tumbled to the ground, grunting.

''Y/N, wait! Don't go outside!''

Shooting a quick look back, you quickened your pace when you saw Steve getting up from the floor, rushing after you. You rushed to the back doors, the squeals and laughter getting louder. Pushing through the doors, you stopped in your tracks by the edge of the pool. Eddie was in the water with his back to you, his shirt off, but you could see his black jeans through the wavy water, his arms around Chrissy Cunningham's bare waist, her bikini clad breasts squished against his bare chest. Her arms around his neck, legs crossed on his back, she hung on to him like a koala, head thrown back in laughter.

Your arrival had gotten their attention, Eddie's head turning towards you, the toothy smile on his face dropping instantly.

''Oh, Y/N, you look amazing!'' Chrissy gasped.

Eddie said nothing, did nothing, as the two of you just stared at each other, his brown eyes shameful while yours were filling with tears, blurring your vision. Your struggled to take a breath, feeling like your lungs had just been ripped from your chest, never mind your stupid, optimistic heart.

Steve sighed behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you away. He cleared the party, lead you to one of the guest bedrooms, helped you under the covers and stayed with you the entire night, sitting on the floor next to the bed, while you wept until the early hours of the morning. The next Monday, you saw Eddie near his locker, his head bowed when you passed him in silence. His left eye was blue and purple, top lip busted. Too hurt and tired, you chose to ignore Steve's bruised knuckles when you grabbed lunch with him that day.

It was always a weird game, thinking about the time you spent with Eddie. Your heart treasured the good times, but then your head caught up, slicing those thoughts in half and showing you the pain underneath. You remembered that night so vividly, having gone through the events in your mind more times than you could count.

Then you remembered seeing him at graduation. Flinging his diploma around, his graduation cap long gone somewhere with his busted white sneakers peeking out underneath the blue skirt. He was happily chatting with Wayne, who patted him on the shoulder and looked so proud of his nephew, his son really, that for that one moment you forgot about everything and let yourself be happy for him. That was until Chrissy came along, her ponytail swinging in the air and kissed Eddie on the cheek, their fingers touching. You would have gone over there and slapped that goofy look off of his face if it weren't for Robin and Nancy calling your name, causing Eddie's eyes to look up, his smile dropping instantly.

You were so mad at him, still are if you think about it longer than five minutes. Ever since then there has been a sick battle going on between your head and your heart, like you said. In your heart, you believed he felt something for you as well. Then your head comes knocking, telling you to look at the facts.

It's all true, your head said, he didn't like you, never really wanted you. You were a game to him.

You missed him at times, the boy that you once loved, who he used to be. Your first love and your first heartbreak. But what was once said and done cannot be undone. Maybe it was time to forget about the past and focus on the present. Maybe you'd forgive him enough to become friends again. They say time heals all wounds, but so far, you were still stuck in that day, unhealed and betrayed and you had no idea how to move on from that.

♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #modern!eddie #modern!eddie munson #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #sebuckyverse #roommates fic

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steddieunderdogfics · 16 days

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: LadyKailitha! @ladykailitha has 33 fics posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 32 of them are in the Steddie Tag.

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @ladykailitha:

Little Runaway

Staking My Claim

I'll Be Your Knight

Eddie's Big Stevie Rescue

"LadyKailitha is a wonderful writer both on Tumblr (shout out to WIP Wednesday, makes my day!!) and on AO3! They absolutely deserve all the recognition and respect for their work. And now I'd like to share the love 🫶"-- anonymous

Below the cut, @ladykailitha answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I’m obsessed with them. LOL! On a more serious note, it’s because I relate to the two characters a lot and want to see them happy.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Childhood friends. I just love watching them be friends as kids and then grow apart and then back together again. I could read it a billion times and do it again. As long as there’s a happy ending of course.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

AUs. Just all of them. I like canon Eddie and Steve, but putting them in different worlds and still finding ways to make them who they are. chef’s kiss

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

There are so many good ones but one that I’ve read several times is STRIKE TEN by oaseas. So good.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

That’s the best part of steddie is not knowing there’s a troupe I want to write for until inspiration strikes. Like I never thought I’d do a sugar baby/daddy AU, but I’m currently writing one. Ditto for omegaverse, but now I’ve written two from the same universe. But as I’m typing this… probably sentinel/guide. The idea has always intrigued me.

What is your writing process like?

First is day dreaming up an idea. Then depending on how long the idea is, I’ll do a short write up about. If it’s long, then it gets treated with plot beats I want to hit. I don’t consider it an outline, because they aren’t in order. Then I will sit down and start writing. I will do at least 400 words a day and keep at it until I have at least 3 or 4 chapters into it before I start posting.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I have to have a backlog of unpublished chapters because I worry if I’m not putting out stories people will lose interest. It’s also so that if I write myself into a corner I can go back a couple of chapters if I have to and change it to fit the new direction the story is going.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely on a schedule. I’ve tried waiting until I’m done and I just get too excited for other people to read it and start posting.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Well Met By Moonlight. I’m really proud of the world building and mystery.

How did you get the idea for Little Runaway?

When I first got into the fandom, there was a severe lack of Eddie and Steve postseason 2 and I really wanted to lean into that a bit.

When writing Little Runaway, what was something you didn’t expect?

Max becoming a reader insert in a way. Where you see the characters through her eyes at the end.

What inspired Staking My Claim?

LOL! Steve licking Eddie’s hand like he was a cupcake he didn’t want to share.

What was your favorite part to write from Staking My Claim?

Jeff. I loved how he just kinda rocked up and said, “As Eddie’s boyfriend, you are now my responsibility and no, you don’t get a say in this.”

How do/did you feel writing I'll Be Your Knight?

I love this one. It really does not get enough praise honestly. I loved the idea of the sound of Steve’s lighter as he lights and puts it out over and over again. I just really loved the idea of Steve guarding Eddie because he’s part of the group now.

What was the most difficult part of writing Eddie's Big Stevie Rescue?

The subject matter. It’s one of my darkest fics because Steve gets slipped a date rape drug and the fall out of not trusting the people you care about with the deepest parts of yourself. Also, keeping the tension ramped up.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I absolutely love the scene with Billy and Steve from “Never Hold Back Your Step…” when Billy gets Steve’s lifeguard job and Steve calls him a washed up surfer. That whole takedown was cathartic as hell.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m currently working on a couple that I think are just so much fun. “The Hellfire Exotic Club” a stripper AU that has been a blast to write. And “Of Butterflies and Backstrokes” the Olympic swimmer AU. I’m proud of that title, too.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

nope!

Thank you to our author, @ladykailitha, and our anonymous nominator! See more of LadyKailitha's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddie writers #ao3 writer

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arcadekitten · 4 months

Note

[MY WISHMAKER Spoilers!]

I just played MY WISHMAKER last night and I loved it, so I wanted to give you my thoughts!

Arcade, you are SO SNEAKY AND CLEVER!!! I saw those promo images and was like "oh dear, he has a gunshot wound, what happened?" only to boot up the game and find out HIS WHOLE ARM WAS MISSING! You really can't tell when he's facing right, so I applaud you for hiding it so well.

I LOVE how sassy The Wishmaker is! I was expecting it/them(? I'll just go with them for now) to be kind of highfalutin and regal 'cause they're a deity and all but I really love how you went in this completely other direction! I think it does make sense since The Wishmaker obviously has to, like, grant people's wishes (in some way at least), so having a more casual manner of speech would probably make them less intimidated.

Also! I loved how you implemented the QTEs! I feel like it spices up the gameplay and is a nice little nod to your fans who played My Neighbor Enide. Even though I messed up all of them, though I SWEAR the Vas one was not my fault! I was mashing that Z button for dear life, but my laptop decided to type it into Edge for some reason!? I didn't even have it open!

Oh, and I see you were able to figure out the mouse movement? You said you'd have to move around using the arrow keys, which I was fine with, but I was pleasantly surprised when I booted up the game and I could move with the mouse too! It really completed the experience.

I don't really have much to say about the story, not because it's bad, but because it's so shrouded in mystery that my cogs are still turning as to what it could mean. I did really like the puzzles, though! And I did notice those key items you hid away...

I have plenty of theories I've been ruminating on even before MW, but I don't wanna put them here because 1) since this is an ask it might make you feel obligated to comment on them somehow which you are not and I don't want you to do, and 2) I think I would start rambling and make this ask a mile long LOL.

That's about everything I could think of off the top of my head! Overall, I really enjoyed it, and I hope you the best in all the other chapters and games you plan to make. I'm sure I'll enjoy them just as much, if not even more. Take care!

Haha yes! ♡ I know some people have been asking why Reginald has two arms in the promo images and it's like...it's meant to be a surprise, silly!

Also for our little Wishmaker character, yes! I adore them very much and I'm very excited for people to see more of them and learn their real name!! Another one of my favorites to be sure ♡ Not sure how I'll tag them in posts yet until their name reveal... clock, maybe? Just to avoid confusion? This character can be referred to with any pronouns, but for clarification that in games and in my posts they will only be referred to with "they" and the occasional "it"

I'm happy the QTEs are received well! (Granted they were a bit harder at first haha!) I'm happy to include them in future chapters as I feel future chapters will definitely be more linear and dialogue heavy and so I hope they can spice up the gameplay and keep things interesting and maybe just a tad more immersive! ♡

As for mouse movement controls it's kinda like a "Well yes, but actually no". You CAN move using the mouse if you really want to but you also have to be aware that you could accidentally hit an object's hitbox and activate its event. And you can't back out of an event once it has been activated like in typical point-and-clicks. (There's only so far I can push the engine with my experience level!) It's for this reason (and the surprise of QTE's!) that WASD/Arrow Key movement is recommended!

Thank you so much! ♡ I am so very happy to hear you enjoyed the experience and I love to hear what people have been brewing up regarding the story and the mysteries still unfolding (even though I can't say anything about it yet!) and I can't wait until I can have more to show you all! I'm really excited for it and I hope everyone will be too! ♡♡♡

#MY WISHMAKER #MY WISHMAKER Prologue #MY WISHMAKER spoilers #reply

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pengweng-quack · 7 months

Text

Being a Witch with Vampires

Carlisle Cullen x Witch!OC

Summary: Stella (A witch) and Carlisle (A vampire), and how they blossomed from roommates to friends(?) to partners

Chapter 1/7

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Notes:

This was inspired by this fanfic on tumblr by lis-likes-fics titled "In My Defense, I Was Left Unsupervised"

This is also on Ao3 under the same title and same username too if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448940)

Posting is random lol, hope you guys enjoy this story

Word Count: 5095 words

TW for this chapter: vomitting, blood mentions

Masterlist

~1700~

Stella Allicere was out and about late at night. She'd just come out of a heated argument with her partner, in which the two of them were on the verge of casting terrible spells at each other had she not decided to just leave. With the dramatic rise in vampire assaults in Italy, which she knew that the Volturi was behind, she knew she shouldn't be out this late. But she'd rather battle vampires than deal with her demanding, controlling mate.

“Witch’s blood. Enticing.” A voice hissed behind her, getting her attention “Never thought I’d live to tell the tale of tasting one.”

“Now, now, we shall not be selfish in what could be shared.” Another voice scolded. She had a feeling there were four vampires around, but she was never good at guessing, so she braced herself for more.

“And she feels our presence.” A third voice taunted, and with their vampiric speed, there were at least five vampires in front of her

“You wouldn’t want this, I assure you.” Stella said, preparing herself for another battle

“And the witch speaks!” A feminine voice fake cheered, earning mocking laughs from the other

“I suggest you don’t attack her.” A tone that expresses nothing but superiority ordered from behind Stella “You do know the treaty that we have with witches, right?”

“And once we've drained every ounce of blood from her, that pact will still be honored.” The leader of the coven hissed at the guy “The treaty only asks to not attack them. It said nothing about not finishing the witch themselves.”

“I’m too tired to deal with anything today. Give me a break.” Stella sighed and motioned for the five vampires to be lifted into the air with her hands. Red cords were now all around them, barring any movement from the five vampires, thanks to another movement of her hands.

The red ropes caught fire in an instant. Thanks to additional manipulation from the witch's fingers, the wire was now on their neck, gently but steadily detaching their heads from their bodies. The heads of the vampires were detached and flung away with a single snap from her, while the body was left to burn.

“You looked to be having a bad day if you were killing vampires in this manner.” The guy earlier, who was watching in astonishment, pointed out, as he steps closer to Stella

“Don’t wonder too much. Curiosity kills the cat.” Stella growled, snapping her fingers and watching the decapitated vampires' bodies burn to ash

“Carlisle Cullen.” The guy, Carlisle, introduced himself “An honor to meet your kind.”

“Stella Allicere.” Stella introduced herself, just to be civil

“What got you so heated up in the first place?” Carlisle inquired as she turned around and began going in the opposite direction. He seemed to take that as an invitation to go around with her, so he did just that.

“My mate. Or so they say is my mate.” Stella replied, accepting the vampire's unannounced but not unwanted presence

“Do you witches just not know whether someone is their mate or not?” He asked curiously

“We just feel it, we don’t particularly just know.” She answered quickly “Why, do you get some sort of feeling when someone is your mate?”

“Wouldn’t know myself, I haven’t met my mate.” Carlisle answered with a shrug

“You work for the Volturi, right?” Stella asked, and he nodded without hesitation “Are you planning on drinking my blood?”

“Despite my colleagues' attempts to persuade me to drink human or witch blood, I have no desire to do so as we could survive just fine with animal blood as an alternative.” He answered earnestly

“Interesting.” Stella nodded “That explains your golden eyes in comparison to the red eyes I've seen on other vampires, doesn't it?”

“Exactly.” He answered her curiosity

Throughout the night, the two of them continued to talk and wander around the city. Only until the sunshine struck Carlisle's arm, where it began to gleam brightly, did they realize they'd spent the night together.

Stella was astounded by what she was witnessing; what she believed were legends was literally happening right in front of her eyes. The shimmer reminded Stella of diamonds being struck by light, but it was clear on Carlisle’s face that it wasn't something he wanted her to witness.

“Please accept my apologies; I believe the clock is signaling that it is time for me to return back to the castle.” Carlisle said sheepishly, pulling his arm away to the shadow areas

Stella turned the skies cloudy with a wave of her fingers, allowing Carlisle to walk around freely as they spent the last minutes before they had to part ways.

For eternity?

She hopes not.

“You didn’t have to—

“Well, good for you, because I wanted to.” Stella answered with a small smile just as they reach the Volturi castle

“Are you safe?” Carlisle asked “You know, from your mate?”

“I was deemed the blessed witch of today way back when my mother was still carrying me, therefore I should be able to defend myself enough.” Stella answered with a chuckle, sensing his genuine concern on her “And, you know, I have a certain vegetarian vampire on standby in case I can't handle him alone.”

“You already know who to seek.” Carlisle giggled, playfully winking at her

“I seem to have forgotten. You don’t mind reminding me, do you?” Stella teased, a smile slowly forming on the corners of her lips

Stella looked at Carlisle, his gold eyes showing nothing other than kindness and compassion. ‘He was different,’ she noted. If he ever offers her to be his everlasting mate, she would ponder before answering.

He’s different.

Carlisle's golden eyes flashed at that moment. He desired nothing more than to disappear into the witch's grey eyes. It perplexed him since he'd read a lot of books in his life, but none of them specifically mentioned a vampire-witch pairing. And, given that he had barely met Stella, he was cautious to claim her as his mate too. He did, however, desire her presence with him always.

Carlisle may deny it, but he has a sneaking suspicion that this certain confident witch will be his everlasting companion.

~1720~

“Who decided that knocking at night is acceptable?” Stella hissed as she opened the door, only to discover Carlisle, who appeared to have been in a fight. His once posh looking hair was messy, and he seemed to be rattled, and in a rush

“Join me.” He invited at once

“Join you in what?” Stella asked “And what happened to you?”

“I left the Volturi.” He answered “Aro didn’t take it well. He ordered the guards to try and stop me.”

“Carlisle!” Stella scolded “What were you thinking?!”

“Who’s in there?” Sam, Stella’s supposed mate, asked.

If Carlisle had a heart, it would have dropped in realization already. He was forcing her to leave her mate, whether declared or not. He was robbing her of a life of peace. But he needed her.

He’ll always need her.

“None of your concern.” Stella answered to him before he turned around and closed the door of his room

“Join me.” Carlisle invited again

Stella would not deny that the previous two decades he's spent with Carlisle had made her question whether a witch-vampire mate was feasible, despite the fact that no texts backed the theory.

Now that Carlisle is encouraging her to live a life other than that of a housewife, she realizes that it wasn't her desire to leave that lifestyle that prompted her to consider joining, but rather the simple fact that Carlisle was the one inviting her.

She would choose a life with Carlisle, no matter how rough the outcome will be.

“No pressure, dear Stella,” Carlisle said, looking warily behind him “But we have to move now if we want to be away quickly.”

“Give me a moment to prepare some stuff.” Stella argued before motioning her hands and allowing a number of her belongings to fly around and land in a neighboring trunk.

“How about Sam?” Carlisle asked

As Carlisle watched Stella scramble around the house for stuff that she thinks they’ll need while on the run, all he could think about was how much he wanted Stella to accompany him on his journey around the world. Forgetting that Stella has a partner with whom she has spent more time than they have.

He knew it was selfish of him to request Stella's presence

But he wanted nothing more than to be selfish of her.

“He’s not my mate.” Stella simply said, grabbing the trunk and walking out the house with Carlisle “You know he’s not my mate.”

“He deserves to know,” Carlisle argued

“And if he knew, I wouldn’t be able to accompany you. He’ll bring this to my family, his family. We wouldn’t even be able to step out of Italy.” Stella argued back “So much in asking me to join you.”

With what she stated, Carlisle remained silent. Stella clearly desired to reclaim the independence she had lost when Sam was announced as her partner. But now, as they walked to the outskirts of town, he was deep in contemplation, debating whether bringing her into the mess he had created was a good idea or a selfish gesture.

“Are you second-guessing?” Stella asked him

“You have till now to express your disinterest in joining me. I'll understand.” Carlisle realized that he needed to provide her with a choice. If he pulls her away from everything she's built, he'll feel extremely terrible

“Don't you think if I wasn’t truly interested in joining you, I would have notified you as soon as possible?” Stella asked him. Why was he second-guessing his decision when she was a self-assured witch who would speak out when she believed it was necessary?

“Are you sure?” Carlisle asked her again

“Yes,” Stella answered without hesitation

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily now, you know?” Carlisle asked her, lightening the mood the he ruined earlier

“Well, good for me. I’m not sure for you though.” Stella shrugged, before smiling widely at him

Carlisle realized that the punishments he would have from the Volturi was something he couldn't easily avoid but he was assured that he would be secure with the assistance of her confident witch. At least for the time being.

~1918~

“Stella?” Carlisle called, entering the home the two own. Carlisle was well aware that there were days when Stella was completely absorbed in her studies, and the mere sight of him after he stayed for a while helping in the hospitals surprised her. So much for being a witch who is mindful of her surroundings.

“Here!” Stella announced, stepping out of the kitchen

“Baking?” Carlisle asked, seeing the stray flour on her cheeks.

‘She looked so…human at that moment. And it was like I was her husband, getting home from work.’

‘Husband?’

‘Do I want her to be my wife?’

“Yeah, it got too messy seeing as— who is he?” Stella asked, cutting Carlisle’s pondering as she sees the new guy behind Carlisle, who was trying to sneak away

“Edward Cullen.” Carlisle introduced to the shy guy who stopped in his tracks once he was called out

“Carlisle—

“His mother begged me to keep him alive—

“Not for eternity!”

Carlisle was terrified at the prospect of Stella being outraged by his decision. He was terrified of offending her in any way after their first encounter. However, she just must understand this one.

“That’s why you were gone for a while, weren’t you?” Stella asked in and oddly calm manner “Because you were helping his thirst?”

“You know he won't be able to control himself if he was exposed to you too soon,” Carlisle explained “Because the smell of your blood is very alluring to us vampires.”

“You got him under control now, right?” Stella asked again in the same calm tone

“Yes, but in the meanwhile, I recommend that you share a room with me.” Carlisle offered, getting Stella to raise her eyebrows at him “You know, for your safety?”

“Sure.” Stella agreed, though not convinced that it was just the reason

“Please don’t think of things like that.” Edward asked in a barely audible tone

“You can read my mind?” Stella asked quietly

“I can hear both of your thoughts, yours a bit harder but I could still do so. Both are messy and all over the place.” He replied, answering her question “However, I chose to concentrate on only one. It wasn't really enjoyable.”

“Alright, I’ll keep note of your telepathy.” Stella frowned, knowing that she doesn’t have any sort of privacy now if it weren’t for her own mental abilities “Carlisle, mind if we have a talk?”

“Y-yeah.” Carlisle stuttered, and quickly followed her to their shared room in the mean time

“You owe me an explanation.” Stella hissed at him the moment the door of their room was shut

“And I’ll give it, just calm down pretty woman.” Carlisle said, sitting on the bed that he had in his room, for aesthetic purposes obviously

“Spanish Influenza, he was nearing death.” Carlisle started, staring at the witch, who was waiting for additional information, in front of him “His mother pleaded with me to save him and keep him alive; I know I have you, and that's more than enough; but he was alone in this world. His mother had died, his father had died, and he was alone. I couldn't abandon him, you understand that, right?”

“This won’t be the last time you’re doing that, are you?” Stella asked with raised eyebrows

Carlisle was at a loss for what to say in response to her desire for a commitment. He was a doctor who saved lives and was ready to convert people into vampires to save them, but was this ethical?

“It won’t be.” Stella answered to her own question “Look, let’s come down to an agreement.”

“I let you know if I’m turning someone into a vampire?” Carlisle asked her

“No. That’s too much work. And you need to help their thirst before you introduce them to me anyways.” Stella disagreed “You quickly explain to me if you’re taking another vampire home, no trying to hide them or anything.”

“That could be managed.” Carlisle said, standing up and hugging Stella, feeling the warmth of her skin in contrast to his cold ones

~1933~

“Carlisle— hello there.” Stella said, startled at the presence of another woman in their living room

“Rosalie Hale.” Edward introduced to the woman

“Are you alright?” Stella quickly asked, sensing how she was anxious

“Stella— and you’ve met her before I introduced her to you.” Carlisle said as he walked into the room before seeing that Stella has met Rosalie already, making him sigh lightly “I’m nearing me getting yelled at by you again, huh?”

“You’re terrible at hiding surprises.” Stella teased lightly before sitting next to Rosalie

“Are you also a vampire?” Rosalie asked her, ‘it seemed like she wasn’t enticed by her blood’ Stella noted

“No.” Stella answered, shaking her head “But, I'm a witch if you’re wondering, there's no need to be afraid of harming me so terribly. I'm almost as tough as all vampires. Can fend off myself.”

“Almost.” Carlisle gave emphasis to the word

“What happened to you anyways?” Stella asked her

“Monsters happened. They’re all monsters.” Rosalie said through gritted teeth “I’ll get them back. Slowly and brutally.”

“Who did this to you?” Stella asked again, feeling a sense of protecting the woman next to her right now

“Her fiancé and his friends.” Edward answered, probably seeing the answer to Stella’s question in Rosalie’s thoughts

“I’m getting you a gown to wear when murdering them.” Stella decided at once, standing up and walking to her room to prepare for getting the gown

“Stella.” Carlisle warned, close on her heel as they enter their room

“Are they together?” Rosalie asked Edward who could only shrug in response

“Been with them since the 1920’s, never had an answer if they were together.” Edward answered “So, much for being the mind reader, don’t you think?”

Carlisle could only watch as Stella used her magic to create the perfect wedding gown for Rosalie as they entered the chamber. He quickly saw how determined Stella was to assisting Rosalie with her vengeance, something that she was always so against with. And that changed his opinion on her.

He just realized how right he was with his suspicion all those decades ago.

~1935~

“Carlisle!” Rosalie’s desperate voice yelled from outside, startling the two who were having a lazy day

“Carlisle! Stella!” Edward now called out, getting the two to quickly stand up and see why both Rosalie and Edward were calling for them

Stella and Carlisle were both surprised to see a bleeding guy on Rosalie's arm as they walked out of the room. She was visibly upset, prompting Stella and Carlisle to act quickly.

“What happened?” Carlisle asked, seeing for any signs of survival on the man

“He was mauled and assaulted by a bear. I was going to personally change him, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it, his blood is enticing me so much. So, I brought him to you.” Rosalie sobbed, and it was clear that if tears could flow down her cheeks that she had already shed some.

“You have to help him Carlisle.” Edward, who was always so against with Carlisle changing people to vampires, begged him. Stella had a feeling that he saw how distressed Rosalie’s thoughts were, and that got him to help her in getting Carlisle to change the man

“Stella, can you prolong his existence for a little longer?” Carlisle asked

“I can’t.” Stella immediately responded, knowing that it was a different branch of magic, one that she had sworn she would never study in fear of being hooked to it and using it in exchange of accepting the consequences

“You have to do it now.” Stella urged him, sensing the life fading away from the man in Rosalie’s arm

With Stella’s urging, as well as Edward and Rosalie’s begging, Carlisle went and bit his neck. Starting the man’s transformation to a vampire. Soon, he was pulling away from the guy’s neck. Wiping his mouth and looking at the guy

“Stella?” Carlisle asked, seeing the sickened look on the witch’s face. In a quick act, Carlisle took Stella and carried her bridal style, taking her to the rest room where she just barely made it to the toilet. He patiently watched as she started puking her guts out in disgust from what she just witnessed

"I'm sorry, you didn't have to witness that." Stella murmured, just as Carlisle passed her a bundled-up tissue which she used to wipe her mouth

"Are you alright?" Carlisle asked, rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe her down

"It must have been all too much for me." Stella weakly answered, resting her figure on the bathroom walls and catching her breath

"It's alright. No need to feel bad just because you reached your limits." Carlisle assured her “Though, why’d you stay?”

"I was already feeling sick the moment Rosalie brought him in, you know, the blood and everything, but I wanted to stay. Because Rosalie was lost and didn't know what to do at that moment. I tried extremely hard to keep it together until it was all done, but it was just too much." Stella rambled, while Carlisle watched her with nothing but adoration on his face

Carlisle was well aware of Stella's willingness to make sacrifices for their new forming family; her being with them was already a huge risk for her. But the fact that she sat through something she didn't want to watch to console his adoptive daughter made his dead heart quiver. She was the reason he felt human again.

All those decades ago, it was just a feeling Stella was his match. But now, he knew Stella was his soul mate. He just needed to know if she felt the same way for him as well

‘Or if this was all a ploy for your demise’ a part of his brain taunted to him

Knowing about how her blood affects vampires from one of her books lightly scared him. Though it also proved his point that the witches have always been stronger than vampires. It’s just the vampires are more…full of themselves, as she says.

Would she really spend this long just for one vampire’s demise?

Everyone was looking forward to the newborn vampire's emergence a few days later. Rosalie is more jittery than normal due to her anxiety. Carlisle has ordered Stella to remain away for a time, to her dismay, but with the help of Rosalie and Edward, she has been able to get around the home. She's the only one who can make them feel better.

"Is he awake?" Rosalie asked Stella who was peaking. The guy was still changing, it was slow but Stella had some assurance that he was changing

"Carlisle's coming." Edward informed. Stella and Rosalie had one look at each other before Stella hugged her for assurance.

"I have to go. I'll see you soon." Stella said, rubbing her back one last time before sneaking out the nearby window

Stella heard Rosalie's call for help to Carlisle before she could fully escape. Stella realized that the newborn vampire was awake. She dashed back into the home, instantly understanding that she was the source of the problem. While Carlisle, Rosalie, and Edward fought to stop him, the man was trying all in his power to get to Stella.

"Stella!" Carlisle called as the three of them were thrown aside by the guy and quickly attacked Stella

He was quicker than Stella so she couldn't run. As a result, she made the decision to protect herself. With a rapid stroke of her fingers, the newborn had red ropes wrapped around his body and legs, tripping him up as he attempted what he could do to get free off the cords.

"I told you not be here!" Carlisle yelled, rushing to be in front of Stella in an attempt to protect her

"Let him free, we'll hunt with him." Edward said

"No!" Rosalie argued immediately "We have to take him out the house first! It's too dangerous for Stella if we free him now."

"Set him free once we step out the house. Then we'll quickly hunt." Carlisle ordered "Rosalie, stay with Stella."

As they walked out the door, Edward and Carlisle assisted the newborn in standing up. Stella swiftly removed the wires she had conjured up on him after the door was shut, and they went off to hunt.

"He's angry at you, isn't he?" Rosalie asked, guilt laced in her tone

"It'll pass." Stella coolly answered

"I'm sorry. You wouldn't do this if you didn't sense that we were anxious for him. Because of that, your life was just placed in danger." Rosalie apologized, sitting on the couch as she waits for the three

"Don't apologize." Stella assured, sitting next to her "I willingly helped you two out. I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to."

"Why'd you think he's mad at you?" Rosalie asked after a long silence between the two

"I don't particularly think that he's mad at me that way. He wouldn't specifically be that vocal if he's mad." Stella frowned "I think he's more hurt than mad."

"Hurt?" Rosalie asked

"It's easier to say why you're mad as to why you're hurt." Stella explained "He'll find it easier to explain that he was mad at me for not listening to him than explaining that he's hurt because of my actions."

"Does he believe that or that's what you've noticed on him?" Rosalie asked

"A bit of both, I guess." Stella shrugged

Edward, Carlisle, and the newborn, who had introduced himself as Emmett, returned from their hunting trip a little time later. Carlisle was the first to enter the home, rushing up to Stella to protect her.

“Hi.” Emmett greeted, waving his hand at the two that he just met

“Hi.” Carlisle said in a rush, before dragging Stella up to their room

“Are they together?” Emmett asked as both Edward and Rosalie shrugged in response

“Why were you there?” Carlisle hissed the moment that the door was shut, separating them from the outside world and leaving them on their own for a while, giving them the illusion of privacy in a house filled with vampires with vampiric senses

“Because they needed me.” Stella hissed back, ready to argue “Edward had no idea how to console others, and Rosie – poor Rosie – had no idea what to anticipate. I couldn’t leave them alone at that moment, you know I can’t.”

“What about me? Who needs you being alive and well just as much as they do? How will you have stayed with me if you – wishing to whatever deity there is that it never happens – didn’t make it out alive tonight?” Carlisle asked in a tone louder than how he usually would when they argued

What he said took Stella by surprise. They've been together for decades, but she was taken aback when he stated flatly that he relies on her for his desire to continue living. She was well aware that she, too, was reliant on him for the desire to continue living, but she would never confess it, particularly to him.

“Say something.” Carlisle said, startling Stella

“Witches are the most powerful supernatural beings that there is. A witch is exceptionally difficult to be killed, especially by vampires. They will only be severely harmed if attacked.” Stella explained to him, ignoring the strong heartbeats in her chest “You came across me when five vampires attempted to group up on me. I know you believe in me and my abilities, so why have you begun to mistrust me?”

“I don’t doubt you and your abilities. I never did.” Carlisle said, sitting down on his bed

“It’s just— you know what, never mind. Just don’t do something like that again.” Carlisle started to continue before changing his mind “Don’t be too reckless. I need you.”

Stella could have sworn with all her might that she felt human again when Carlisle told her that he needed her. The sensation of blood racing up her cheeks, turning them a pale scarlet, the sensation of butterflies in her stomach, and the desire to rush up to him and kiss him. He made her feel human again, a feeling that she missed

Stella realized at that instant that this particular vampire was her true mate. Now she just needed to know if he thought of her the same way.

~1950~

Rosalie, Emmett, Edward, and Carlisle were out hunting for the night and Stella was busy finishing a book when she heard a knock on the door

“Carlisle, you can enter without knocking in your own home!” Stella groaned, bothered that someone disrupted her reading

“I’m not Carlisle.” A sweet woman’s voice said from outside the door. Which confused Stella, they weren’t expecting any guests, especially this late. So, she did what any sane witches would do…

“Who are you and what are your intentions?” She loudly asked, preparing for a battle

“I’m Alice!” Alice sweetly introduced, and Stella was more intrigued than ever, because why is she introducing herself if she has plans to attack?

Stella approached the door, carefully opening it and peering outside to see who was speaking. She noticed two persons, one of them was a small female with pixie-like features and was exceedingly thin. Her glossy black hair was cropped short and pointed in every way. She was accompanied by a tall man with honey blond hair that dropped just below his collar. He is robust but not big in appearance.

Like the other Cullens, they both has pale, marble-like skin, otherworldly beauty, and bruise-like purple shadows under their eyes. If Stella had not spent multiple decades with the other Cullens, she was certain to have confused them as one as well.

“Stella?” Carlisle asked, seeing the two unknown vampires in their front porch interacting with his confident witch

“Carlisle Cullen!” Alice sweetly said, as if she was excited that she was finally meeting him

“How do you know us?” Carlisle asked, motioning Edward, Rosalie, and Emmett to stay behind as he steps closer

“Oh, we mean no harm!” Alice said in the sweet voice that she had earlier “I can see into the future, and I saw that we were gonna be joining the Cullens. I’m Alice and this is Jasper.”

“She’s not lying.” Edward backed her up “She also knows that we will move back to Forks once every Cullen has full control over their thirst.”

“It’s certain?” Rosalie asked

“The reason is because Forks is Stella’s favorite town.” Edward added, getting Stella to furrow her eyebrows

“Of course.” Emmett teased

“Who said that Carlisle is the man of the house when Stella is right there? Just one ‘pretty please’ from Carlisle, and suddenly, we’re doing said plead from her.” Emmett continued, getting Rosalie to laugh

“Okay, too much.” Carlisle said, stopping them from saying more about their future “I supposed these two are another addition to our growing family.”

“You’re still very terrible with surprises, you know that?” Stella teased Carlisle

“Oh, you’re in for more surprises though.” Edward said in a teasing tone before walking in the house and leaving them all dumbfounded

“Okay, all of you, to your rooms.” Carlisle said, urging the two “There’s a spare room in the house, but I have a feeling that you know that already?”

“Oh yes.” Alice answered, reaching for Jasper hand and walking into the house. Rosalie and Emmett following next who was side-eyeing each other after hearing what was in their future

“A mind reader, a drop-dead gorgeous woman, someone who could murder me in a flash, a future seer, and someone who might kill me in a flash again are adopted by a doctor and a witch.” Stella listed down, laughing as her and Carlisle entered the house and to their room “When you asked me to join you over a century ago, I didn’t think that it was to build a family.”

“To be fair, I didn’t think that it was gonna end this way too.” Carlisle agreed with her as he rested his arms on her shoulders, pulling her closer to him

#carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen #emmett cullen #alice cullen #rosalie hale #edward cullen #bella swan #jasper hale #twilight saga #no esme on this one (I love her though I promise)#the cullens #twilight renaissance #carlisle x reader #twilight x reader #twilight #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle cullen fanfiction

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washy0uaway · 11 months

Text

Kiss City Pt. 3

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader Word Count: 1.6k Chapter Summary: Sweet baby fluffy Frankie watches over you as you get to know each other. Series Summary: The thing you expected least on what you swore was a day set out to be cursed by the universe, was Frankie. A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get another part up, and didn't really intend for this to be such a slow burn lol. Life has been, well.. life. Absolutely slammed at work and fighting some dumb health stuff, but I plan to carve more time out for these two more regularly. Cathartic for me tbh <3 Also a bonus that people have been enjoying this - thank you so much for sharing/liking/following! Series Masterlist | Part 2

*I'M ALSO STARTING A TAG LIST!* I haven't kept track of anyone that's already asked, but will going forward! Respond to a post or shoot me a message if you'd like to be added :) xx

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After a short walk back to Frankie's truck (where he somehow managed to hold every door open for you without dropping your hand), you've agreed on tacos for dinner. Finding yourself in his passenger seat again, you glance at the clock to notice it's not even 1pm - hours until a suitable dinner time you think to yourself.

After he closes the drivers side door and starts the truck, he once again hands you his phone for you to enter your home address this time and you're off (Fleetwood Mac now playing over the stereo).

You fall into a comfortable silence the first few minutes, and Frankie thinks he's subtle as he steals glances at you each time he looks to take a turn or check his mirror. Not subtle at all, but cute nonetheless.

"Can I ask you a question?" he finally breaks the silence first. "Of course" you offer. "How did you know I'm not a creep? Back in the lobby, I said I'm not a creep and you said, 'I know,'"

Your laugh is the hardest he's heard yet, and though he's smiling next to you, he asks again.

"I'm serious!" he half jokingly exclaims. "I'm sorry, that's just not the question I was expecting. I don't know, you..." your voice trails off as you've looked up at him and your gazes lock again, now stopped at a red light. A soft sigh escapes your lips and you offer him a sweet, slight smile.

"You just seem like a good person," you continue and he almost scoffs. "Now I'M serious!" you insist, "I have to admit I was pretty pissed before I met you earlier, but you've gone out of your way to make up for it and make sure I'm okay - you've taken care of me."

He shrugs and turns back to focus on the road as the light turns green and tries to play it off. "Can't have you dyin' on me is all, wouldn't look good on my record you know?"

"Of course," you agree. "Can't have me dyin' on you."

The remainder of the drive is pretty quiet, and when you pull into your driveway and unbuckle your seat belt, Frankie is somehow already out of the truck and rushing to open your door for you. You try to protest and insist that you're not entirely useless, and he tells you the same thing he told you as he carried you inside your office building.

"Maybe I want to."

You can't argue with that, so instead take his hand as he helps you out of the truck. You only let go to dig in your cluttered tote bag for your keys. After unlocking the door and letting him follow behind you, you drop your bag and keys to immediately take your shoes off and let out a long sigh.

"How ya doing over there, champ?" Frankie asks as he closes your front door behind him.

"Honestly, exhausted. I don't really know what the plan for the afternoon is but I could use some serious couch time. We could put on a movie?"

"That sounds great, and probably exactly what you need right now."

You point him in the direction of your living room and explain you're going to throw on some sweats and grab you both something to drink, telling him to "Make yourself comfortable."

... which he definitely hasn't done when you walk into your living room, setting two glasses of water on the coffee table. His back is to you as he studies your walls intently. Photos of you as a kid (with people he imagines would be sisters or cousins), posters from concerts, bizarre art prints, all adorn your walls. But your bookcase is what he zeroes in on, as he's completely oblivious to the fact that you're making yourself comfortable on your couch behind him.

There's a range from classics like Dracula or Pride & Prejudice, to biographies of people he's never even heard of, then histories of music genres, and more - all sorted alphabetically in an almost overflowing book shelf.

A meow breaks his focus and he turns to see you sitting cross legged on your couch in lounge shorts and a comfy crop top as your cat, Beans, hops up to join you.

"Having fun?" you ask, after introducing your pet. "Yeah, sorry, you .. you uh, can tell a lot about a person by their books, is all." "Yeah?" you prod, "what did you learn about me?"

You'd propped an elbow on your bare knee, resting your chin on your fist looking up at him, wide eyed and almost sultry. This time, its your gaze that almost melts him, and he has to force his jaw shut before continuing the conversation.

"Well, you obviously read a lot," in a few steps he's sitting down next to you, Beans on your opposite side.

"Which I like in a person," he continues. "But most of your books are about things I know nothing about. I mean, an auto biography of J.M. Barrie? Who the fuck is J.M. Barrie?"

Your laugh startles Beans, who hops off the couch and saunters off in search of his food dish. Frankie makes a mental note that he wants to do that more often - make you laugh.

"He wrote Peter Pan, Frankie! You've never heard of him?" "Okay, don't hate me, I fully would have guessed that Walt Disney wrote Peter Pan."

You tsk and playfully shake your head, "Maybe you need to borrow the book then," giving him a side eye that nearly knocks him out.

"Gladly," he agrees, and you reach for the remote to put on a movie.

"What are you in the mood for?" you ask as you mindlessly start scrolling through streaming apps.

"Whatever you want, I'm just here to keep you company. What's your go-to comfort movie?" he suggests, and a near devious grin spreads across your face.

Knowing already exactly which app to find it on, you pull up the first, original Nightmare on Elm Street.

"THIS is your comfort movie?" He shifts his legs and body toward you in disbelief, pointing at the screen.

"Yup." you smack your lips as you say it, smiling up at him with pride. "Fall asleep to it most nights."

"You fall asleep to Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Sure do! Hey, you're the one that told me to put it on."

A chuckle escapes him as he settles into the couch, draping his arm to rest loosely on the top of the couch behind you.

"I'm not complaining, you're just full of surprises, hermosa." You blush at the term, pressing play on the movie. "I like it though," he admits, now focusing on the TV in front of him.

"Yeah, yeah, just watch the movie, Morales." You kid, as you drape the blanket that had followed you to the couch over both of your legs.

Frankie decides a few minutes in, he'd rather watch you watch the movie. You're animated, talking along with the lines as characters say them, having clearly seen it countless times.

Stealing gazes at you periodically, he brings his arm resting on the couch down into his lap. He doesn't trust himself to not fully wrap his arm around you, and though he doesn't think he's misreading you, doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

After letting out a long yawn though, you sleepily lean over and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes heavy.

He doesn't turn his head to look down, but you feel his eyes on your sleepy face.

"Is this okay?" you ask, lazily turning your head and looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

"Of course," he promises, face now only inches from yours.

You might have been nervous if you weren't so exhausted, but you quickly drift to sleep.

If you knew he was sitting next to trying not to freak out, biting his knuckles, you definitely would have been nervous. You began leaning more of your weight onto him as you fell into a deeper sleep and before he knew it, you were curled up at his side with your head in his lap and his arm draped over your waist.

Time passed quickly and it was safe to say, Frankie was focusing on anything but the movie. The credits began to roll and he hadn't even noticed until you started to slowly blink your eyes open.

"Is it over already?" your sleep stained voice asked, shifting on the couch to look up, your head still in his lap.

"Yeah, I guess it is." Frankie reached down to brush a stray hair out of your face and the look in his eyes made your heart jump.

He'd softened quite a bit over the short time you'd known him, but this look was different. Endearing, like he was in awe of you.

You had leaned your head into his hand as he brushed the hair out of your face and made eye contact with him.

The look you shared was telling - like you had an entire conversation in a glance. Both of you had agreed with this look, "you fascinate me, I can't believe I met you today," and "there's no where else I'd rather be than on this couch with you, and it scares me shitless how attracted I am to you already." All unspoken, but mutually understood, somehow.

You laid for a moment, head in his lap, cradled by his hand, not breaking eye contact.

"You wanna watch the second one?" you ask, gaze and tone still serious.

He really laughs this time, and you're grinning when he looks back down.

"Sure I do, sweetheart." Knowing goddamn well he'll still be watching you instead, he grabs the remote.

#frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x reader #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #fanfic #triple frontier fanfic #francisco catfish morales

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tallymonster · 11 months

Text

Memories of Us Chapter 2 || Masterlist

Literally posting the first two parts and then passing out lol, same tags as last time, same inspiration from this art by @cheesy-cryptid , same everything basically.

Summary: Octavia goes to a place in the Upper City to meet her boss. Turns out it's extremely secretive.

Oh one thing I forgot to mention. The chapter titles are based on the song "I Caught Fire" by The Used.

Thanks again to my babe @micropoe10 for being my beta reader and best friend ❤️

also tagging @satanicspinosaurus because they're the first person to ask to be tagged (!!!!) Thanks for the support guys, it means A LOT.

Chapter 2

Could stay a while

Gale gave Octavia the very secret directions to the restaurant she was due to meet her boss in. It was a fancy place in the Upper City, secluded enough for only those who knew where it was could find it. Looking down at the piece of paper with the code to enter, she knocks on the door. A voice comes out of nowhere, loudly asking, "PASSWORD?" Nervously she speaks the phrase on the paper, instantly the door opens and the piece of paper is gone. "Wow, they really don't want people to know about this place huh?" "I would assume not, some of us do pay quite a bit of gold for the exclusivity." A haughty voice speaks out from behind her, a blush quickly develops on her cheeks as the realization crosses that she was not alone.

She quickly stammers "Oh it's my first time here, I was more surprised than anything." She chuckles at her own expense. The man behind her is cloaked in the light of a street lantern directly behind them. "Well, I hope you enjoy it, they say the first time is incredibly memorable..." The last word spills out with a sultry drawl, he walks past her and into the hallway, eventually fading into the darkness of the restaurant. The blush on her cheeks has definitely covered her entire face now.

Octavia takes a few breaths. Then steps into the dark restaurant. The interior of the establishment is lowly lit, almost completely dark, save for the candles on the tables and sconces on the walls. She looks around to the other patrons, all impeccably dressed in clothes that look like they would cost at least 5 months pay.

"This way, miss." Octavia is led to a private room towards the back, the waitress knocks on the red wooden door in front of them, a voice that sounds like Gale's calls out "I think she's here, let me go greet her!"

Gale comes out in a much nicer suit than his usual one, slightly fitted for a guy who you only see in cardigans and loose sweaters. "Okay, now I definitely feel underdressed, is there a dress code here that someone forgot to inform me about?" Octavia jokes, "Because if I had a reason to go buy a new wardrobe with my graduation money, it would've been good to know."

Gale looks at her slightly confused until he notices her wearing practically the same outfit she wore to work, the only exception was her blazer, it wasn't the one he accidentally spilled ink on when they were restoring some letters together earlier in the day.

He sucks his teeth and apologizes "I absolutely did, and I'm not sure how to make up for it yet, but I promise you look wonderful. You have your talents and expertise to speak for themselves! No amount of lavish clothing can eclipse that. Besides, Mr. Ancunin trusts me much more than anyone else. He and I have talked at great lengths about your impressive knowledge of the Heroes of Baldur's Gate. He's made remarks about it, seeming like you've been there yourself!" He laughs as he leads her into the room, would this be the time to tell him her family history?

As she approaches the table, a shadow becomes clear and his form begins to take shape. His hands are the first thing she sees come out from behind the cloak around his shoulders; slender fingers with a spider like length, lustrous skin like pearls, one reaches out and takes hers in a handshake. "My my..Made your way over from outside, darling?" That voice sounded like the man from outside."How was the walk over? Not too far in the back are we? I wanted to make sure our meeting was nice and private."

The waitress who led her down to this room lights a few more candles, replacing some that had apparently gone out. The barely lit room fills with warm yellow light and her boss becomes more illuminated by each one.

Octavia notices his hair first, a mop of silver and white styled into a messy tousle of curls. His ears were pointed, the few rings of hair that fell on them perfectly encircled around as if on purpose. She noticed something particular though, he was wearing sunglasses inside? In this dark place?

Before she even knew, she asked "Why are you wearing sunglasses inside at night?" Taken aback, her boss laughs loudly as he looks towards Gale, "You were right, cheeky little pup, isn't she?"

His grin grows mischievously. Gale shrugs and pulls the chair out in front of him, he motions Octavia to sit. She makes her way over and takes her spot, Gale sitting to her right. "Miss Octavia, I would be honored to finally introduce you to our esteemed head curator of the Baldur's Gate Museum of History, Mr. Astarion Ancunin."

Gale flourishes the last bit by extending his arm out to his right, Astarion dips his head in a small bow. "I do apologize for the last minute absence, my dear" he sips his wine and places the glass down.

"I believe you're both reaping the benefits of that excursion in the hard work you've been doing. Which is the cause of this little outing I've set up for the three of us. Obviously, I wanted to meet you beforehand, Octavia, but some things have to be sacrificed for the good of preservation. I take this work very seriously, I want to ensure these priceless artifacts don't get lost to time, as some things have before." He takes a slow sip of his wine, "I believe Gale has told you about his little interest in our Szarr art collection?"

Astarion playfully asks Octavia, as he turns to Gale, a devilish smile on his face, sipping more wine. "He has, actually, but I asked." she answers "Really? And what do you make of this mystery subject? You must have a theory, yes?" He places a hand under his chin, turning to look at her behind those dark lenses.

Octavia feels the same chill she felt when she first looked at the painting on the wall. She gulps,"Uh not yet, but I'm curious as well...the subject looks like a male elf, maybe about 40? No more than 100 it seems..."

She trails off a little, looking down at the table. "Whomever they were, they seem important somehow, like they were a favorite or something? A favored consort, possibly? I'm hoping that after Gale and I are done with this project, we may be able to find out?" She fidgets with her fingers a little under the table, hearing a pleased hum she straightens up and looks to Gale. He has a giant smile on his face, and gives her a reassuring nod.

A silence falls on the table as they turn to look at Astarion, his eyebrows come together.. he seems angry, perhaps annoyed, was he upset at her speculation? Her heart was in her throat, where was the waitress? She needed water and quick- "Why do you think that?" Astarion asks pointedly, taking a more prominent drink of his wine. "Why do you think that one is favored?"

Octavia feels a lump at her throat, she swallows and answers "They're in a lot of paintings in the gallery...I noticed them in at least a dozen...in the forefront of four, the background of 6...the main subject of two..it's quite a lot for someone who doesn't matter.." She hears a soft huff, not annoyed this time. "Interesting. Most people say that he's pretty or gorgeous or go on about his beautiful body, but you focused on the importance of the subject. I admire your insight, Octavia. I see why Gale tipped the scales for you."

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion bg3 #fanfic #bg3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x oc #fic tag: au #fic tag: headcanon #fic tag: slow burn #fic: memories of us

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