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bearhugsandshrugs · 2 months

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A Golden Opportunity

This was incredibly fun to do – a fic-art collab with @littleplasticrat! She had the idea of giving Gortash a strap-on that goes onto his own cock and I had the pleasure of writing a fic along to it. Please check out her full art and if you like, read the fic below!

Gortash x Tav | Explicit | 4.4k words Read on AO3 See @littleplasticrat's amazing art that accompanies this piece here

Tav was only there to drop off some books she had borrowed. Gortash’s office sat empty and abandoned, which was weird, considering he’d told her he’d be in after dinner, and it was already past 10pm. He usually worked late, and she had looked forward to the short, casual exchange they had whenever they ran into each other.

Not tonight, however. It was the first time she’d been to his office by herself, and she took advantage of the fact that no one was around, snooping leisurely through his things. On the table sat a cup of cold coffee, on the far off side was a glass display that seemed to be new, and the rest of the walls were covered with shelves of books, folders, and closed drawers, as well as one large display that held a variety of metalworking tools.

There were a few sketches on the desk that caught her eye, most of them some sort of crossbow design. Tav flipped through them, not bothering to even try to understand what they were. But then, she saw it: A page full of dicks.

No. Not dicks. A page full of sketches of some sort of strap-on, attached to a dick, with instructions on how to use it and how to fuck with it. And then… in the upper left corner… Her face, half-drawn.

What the fuck?

She looked around the office, almost as if to see if Gortash would jump out of hiding now, pranking her, but she was met with the continued quiet atmosphere of the room. If this was real, surely it was around here somewhere? His crossbows sat on a side table, half taken apart and tinkered with. So… where would he keep a… strap-on?

The glass display, she suddenly thought. That’s definitely the kind of ridiculous place he'd put something like this.

Tav almost sprinted over to the case, a sly grin on her face. There it was, in all its glory: golden and with intricate adornments, dark leather straps attached. She giggled, disbelieving that he’d actually put it here, on display, for everyone to see. Or, well. For her to see. There weren’t a whole lot of other people who were allowed into his office.

She tried lifting the lid, but it was secured with a lock, and she rolled her eyes. Who would try to steal… this?

Well. She would.

Picking the lock didn’t take long, and she took the strap-on out of the case in no time, weighing it in her hands. It was massive, fitted to the shape of a cock –

Wait.

Did that mean it was tailored to Gortash’s–

“Like how it feels?” Gortash leaned against the doorframe, smirking.

“Did you have this made to fit your cock?!” Tav asked brazenly, ignoring his tease. She looked back at the thing in her hands, and she heard him cross the room, his heavy boots pounding on the floor.

“Of course”, he said flatly, taking it out of her grasp, “I’m not going to wear it and be uncomfortable.”

Tav chuckled. “How did that work? You went to a blacksmith and let him take a mold of your–”

He held her gaze, slowly raising an eyebrow when she didn’t finish her sentence. “Yes, dear?”

“Did you?”

He stifled a laugh and rolled his eyes, sitting down in front of his desk. “Was there anything else you needed? Maybe the key to the treasury?”

Tav strolled over to him. She hadn’t been done inspecting the strap-on, and she found the whole thing hilarious. Snatching it back out of his hands, she leaned against the table, then wetted her lips.

“Oh. Those are some nice veins.” There was no way he had this fitted to himself. The notion was too absurd.

“Thank you”, Gortash nodded, completely unfazed. “Though you could always inspect the original, if you wanted to.”

Her mouth fell open before she caught herself, her cheeks burning with heat. “Actually I think I’m gonna go.”

Setting the strap-on down on his desk, she turned away, but couldn’t get far when his hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, sending her stumbling into his lap.

“This is completely inappropriate”, Tav scoffed, trying to wrestle her wrist out of his tight grip, but he just chuckled.

“Dear, you went through my things”, he nodded towards the sketch that had started it all and that she thoughtlessly hadn’t cared to sort back into the pile, “broke into my property, and nearly stole my prototype.” His voice was low but there was amusement mixed into it.

“Well you drew my face next to the strap-on design. Of course I wanted to see what kind of fuckery you were up to.”

“Oh, I can show you exactly what fuckery I had in mind for this.” He smirked, and Tav rolled her eyes, cursing herself for basically handing him that one on a silver platter.

Under her ass, his thigh was warm and steady, and her hip pressed into his stomach, forcing her face so close to his she could hear him breathe.

“Besides”, he murmured, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “you have a lovely face. What can I say?”

“You have a dirty mind”, Tav forced herself to reply, but her voice cracked midway through.

Gortash chuckled. “Oh, dear. You have no idea.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, and for a second Tav considered kissing him, but banished the thought before it could take hold. This was all so sudden.

“I held your strap-on in my hands and could feel the outline of your veins, I think I have a pretty good idea of how dirty your mind is”, she scoffed, pulling back slightly to create some space. He still held her down by her wrist, his other hand trailing upwards to her ass, and he smiled wickedly.

“I’d have to prep you first”, he murmured, dragging his gaze across her chest down between her legs. “Get you all wet, and whimpering, and stretched…”

His hand found her ass and gave it a squeeze, and Tav drew a sharp breath in, surprised by his audacity. And the fact that she didn’t mind nearly as much as she thought she would.

His hand was strong, and big, and she immediately wondered if the strap-on actually fit his cock, or if he was winding her up in some sort of weird joke.

“I think you should put it on”, she suddenly blurted out, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“Well, uhm.” Tav hadn’t thought this through. “You can put it on over your underwear. Show me that it fits.”

“I’d have to be hard for that”, he said with narrowed eyes, then smirked. “Not that that would be a problem.” He made sure she saw how he looked down at the massive bulge in his pants, and Tav swallowed instinctively at the sight. Her mind wandered off, wondering how he’d feel inside her. Wondering how wide he could stretch her with his strap-on on, and how long it would take him to make her come.

Pain pulled her out of her thoughts, with Gortash’s fingers twisting her right nipple through her shirt. Tav gasped, shocked by both the action itself and the way her clit twitched with need in response.

She slapped him with her free hand, set the strap on down on the desk, and pushed herself off of him, batting his hands away.

“I came to drop off some books”, she straightened up, turning to leave, “enjoy.”

“Or… you could stay and get the best fuck of your life”, Gortash’s voice rang across the room.

Tav hovered in place for a moment, biting her lip. Fuck, she knew she was wet, and she wanted him, but this was all so completely inappropriate and… wrong?

She hadn’t even heard him walk up behind her when she felt his warm breath on her neck. When she didn’t move, he brought his mouth down to her skin, starting to suck gently, then more and more forcefully until she whimpered. His hands trailed over her stomach down to her hips, pulling her shirt out of her pants and sliding underneath back up to her breasts.

“A good decision”, he hummed, rolling her nipples between his fingers before pulling at them so hard she sobbed out a curse.

His hips were flush against her body, with his erection pressing into her lower back. He felt large enough as he was, why would he need to add even more–

She didn’t get to finish her thought as he unbuckled her pants and shoved a hand down between her legs, chuckling when he found her panties soaked.

Sliding them to the side and dipping a finger against her entrance Gortash groaned, pulled his hand away and impatiently grabbed the waistband of both her trousers and panties. He dragged it all down to her knees in one swift motion before releasing the fabric, which pooled down at her feet on its own.

Tav gasped and tried to turn around, but his arms already wrapped around her, holding her in place in front of him.

“I’ve wondered a lot about how my invention would slide into you”, he whispered against her ear, his hands slowly trailing over her breasts and down between her legs. “How much lube I would need.” He gently bit down on her neck and sucked at her skin, and Tav closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. “But all I’m wondering now is what kind of obscene sounds you’ll make when I fuck your dripping cunt.”

He leaned forward and dragged his fingers through her folds, then pushed two of them into her with ease.

“Fuck”, Tav breathed out, “You’re–“

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Yes, dear? I’m what?”

Gortash started to pump his fingers in and out of her, and he sighed at how wet she was. Slick was already drooling down his hand, and he had barely started.

Tav meanwhile had lost all train of thought, and her only reply was a moan. She held onto his arms, helplessly letting him finger her while her mind desperately tried to process what was happening. Her hips rocked into his hand, but when her walls started to clench around his fingers, he stopped and pulled away from her.

Gortash stepped around her so their eyes could meet, his fingers glistening with her juices.

“What do you say?”, he asked, tentatively licking one of his fingers, smirking. “You want more?”

Tav replied before she could think. “Yes.”

“I’m going to fuck you with that strap-on. I’m going to call you a whore. And I’m going to do things to you that’ll make you blush come morning.” He licked his lips and grinned. “Do you still want it? My cock, my strap-on, stretching you until all you can do is beg to come?”

“Gods”, Tav croaked out, her cheeks burning and her clit twitching. “You already know I won’t change my mind.”

Gortash laughed wickedly. “Oh, I know. But I like when you look at me like that. When I get to ruin you. Little by little.”

He grabbed her chin and pulled her into a deep kiss, his tongue rough and demanding. Tav sighed into his mouth and brought her hands to his chest, pulling at his shirt with greed. She wanted to see him without clothes so badly. Wanted to feel his skin against hers.

Gortash broke away from her to shove his fingers into her mouth, forcing Tav to taste herself on him. She sucked them clean, but when she was done he pushed down on her tongue, her jaw, until she obediently opened her mouth for him.

“Good”, he nodded, “stay like that.”

Tav stood there, half naked, mouth open, waiting for him to come back from behind her. When he appeared, he was holding the strap-on.

“Keep this safe while I undress”, he demanded, shoving it into her mouth, then patting her cheek like he’d pat a dog on the head. Tav swallowed and closed her lips around the contraption, running her tongue along the ridges. The metal was cool in her mouth, but not uncomfortably so. Despite having held it in her hands earlier, Tav was surprised how large it actually felt, now that it sat between her lips.

Gortash took off his shirt, slowly, watching her stand there with the strap-on in her mouth with a grin on his face. Every piece of clothing came off so leisurely it felt like he was mocking her – he probably was –, intentionally dragging out the time it took him to undress.

Tav stared at him, frozen in place. If her mouth hadn’t been full, she probably would have licked her lips, letting her gaze fall over his body. His torso, usually hidden underneath several layers of shirts and coats, was remarkably more toned than she would have expected; the biceps on his arms curving softly in the dim light. Dark hair covered his chest and trailed down beyond his navel down to his pubic bone where it curled between his legs.

His cock was hard and Tav swallowed around the strap-on when she took note of his length and girth. She stared for a little too long, because a low chuckle rumbled out of Gortash’s chest, pulling her attention back up towards his face.

“You asked me to demonstrate the fit”, he smirked, walking over to pull the strap-on out of her mouth. Saliva had drooled down her chin, which he wiped away with his thumb before he leaned in to kiss her. His lips felt fuller than they looked, demanding and rough but with a certain charm underneath it all that sent a shiver down Tav’s spine, and his tongue pushed into her mouth confidently, as if they’d kissed a thousand times before. Claiming her so easily, almost marking her as his with his actions and his words, shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was – but Tav couldn’t help the small sighs and whimpers she exhaled into his kiss.

When he pulled away from her he grinned, holding up the strap-on so she could see and would follow his hands as he expertly set it on his hard cock, slid it into place, and then tied the leather straps around his belt that he’d retrieved from his pile of clothes, the straps fitting into the belt perfectly.

Tav’s eyes widened. There was no way around it: His cock looked absolutely massive with the strap-on, and it hadn’t been exactly small before.

“I… would like to revisit your offer of ‘prepping’ me first”, she breathed out, tentatively reaching down between his legs to wrap her hand around his length. His warm skin contrasted against the cool metal, and Gortash let out a small groan when she tightened her grip around him, stroking him in slow, deliberate motions.

He sighed, not taking his eyes off the way her hand moved around his cock. “That can be arranged.”

After another moment he tore himself away from her. “Come here”, he beckoned her over, hastily moving documents off the desk and pushing other things to the side, some of them falling to the floor, but Gortash didn’t seem to care. He loosened the straps before setting the strap-on to the side.

Tav sat down on the desk, trying to lean back in a way that would be comfortable, but he just laughed at her. “Oh, darling Tav”, he smirked. “I did not clear the desk to take you like a loving husband would his wife on some makeshift bed.” His eyes narrowed as he pulled her back up by her jaw. “For tonight, you bend to my will.”

She sighed with a grin. “Just say that you want to fuck me, bent over the desk, like a normal person”, Tav replied, eyebrows pinched together.

Gortash cocked his head to the side, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk that he did his best to suppress. “Fine.” He licked his lips. “Get down on the desk like the whore that you are.”

When she rolled her eyes he reached out and twisted her nipple between his fingers, dragging a gasp out from deep within her chest.

“You’re–”

Tightening the grip he raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “Yes, dear?”

Tav swallowed a few times before she spoke; confused as to why it felt so good to have him hurt her this way. “Nothing”, she mumbled, and he let go of her with a dirty smile. “Actually…”, Tav started, and Gortash chuckled.

“Come here”, he pulled her into a kiss, bringing both of his hands to her breasts to roll her nipples between his fingers, pull them, and twist them, until Tav was panting into his mouth.

“O-okay”, she breathed out when they broke apart, and she bent down on the desk, her ass hanging over the edge.

Cursing herself, Tav could not believe how stupid she was: Now her breasts would continuously rub over the hardwood, with her sensitive nipples already aching just from lying down. Gortash ran a hand down her back before spreading her legs apart, and when his tip brushed against her wet folds Tav drew in a sharp breath. She wanted him. Fuck. She wanted him so much just the thought of having him drew out a whimper.

So when he lined himself up against her entrance and pushed in, Tav eagerly pulled a leg up onto the desk, giving him even deeper access. Despite her arousal providing ample slickness for him to slide in easily, her walls still had to stretch around his girth, and she loved how full she felt with him in her. Behind her, she could hear him groan softly, pulling back out only to sink back in, repeating the movement a few times until he had buried himself in her up to the hilt.

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since you swaggered your ass into my city”, he groaned, digging his nails into her waist each time he pulled her body back on his cock. “Gods if I’d known you’d be this needy–” Her juices dripped out of her, and when his balls dampened from slapping against her skin, he moaned out a curse, forgetting the rest of his sentence.

Tav was barely hanging on by a thread. Her hands were trying to hold onto the edge of the desk, but when Gortash started to pound into her in earnest her body just helplessly slid across the wood. The first moan that flew out of her mouth was met with a satisfied hum, but soon she was panting and moaning in sync with him. It was hot to hear him enjoy her, enjoy her body, and she knew she was close. She just needed–

When Gortash saw her moving her hand trying to squeeze between her core and the table, he grabbed her wrist and pinned her arm to her back, then pulled her waist back so he could shove his hand between her legs himself. Deft fingers found her clit and circled it so teasingly that Tav sobbed out a plea. Gods, they were both so into each other, when Tav mewled under his touch he groaned in response.

It didn’t take long until she came with a gasp, surprised at the overwhelming pleasure that drowned her so quickly that she shuddered and twitched under him again and again, her own mind lagging behind on comprehending what was happening.

Once her body calmed and her walls stopped clenching around his length, Gortash slowed down and pulled out of her with a sigh.

“Perfect”, he said hoarsely, “absolutely perfect.”

Tav’s face was pressed into the desk, her heart still pounding in her chest as if she’d just sprinted across the city. “Fuck”, she brought out. “That was good.”

Gortash chuckled. “It was”, he agreed, voice thick with lust.

Tav stood up, groaning softly as she stretched her body, and when she turned around she saw him coat the strap-on with a kind of tincture.

“It’ll help with… accommodation”, he said when he caught her eyes. “I have no doubts you’ll be wet enough, but your tight little cunt might need some… support.”

The thought of having him fuck her with the contraption made goosebumps rise on her arms. “Okay”, she croaked out, licking her lips. What else was there to say?

Chuckling he fastened the strap on again, went over to his chair and sat down. He patted his lap, sizing her up as if with a challenge.

“You think you can take both me and my invention?”, he asked, smirking.

“I could take you any day”, Tav scoffed back. It was supposed to sound confident, but she just sounded like the neediest person to walk Faerûn.

“Hmmm”, Gortash sighed, “I might come back to you on that. But. For now: Come here.”

Tav walked around the desk and positioned herself so she could hover her core above him. His hands came up to her waist to support her, and when she reached down to guide him in she was shocked at how wide he felt, now that he was wearing the strap-on.

“I wanted to emulate the feeling of fucking you with two cocks at the same time”, he whispered as she sank down on his tip, the metal already stretching her. “Wanted to make you feel like you’re getting fucked by two of me.”

Tav groaned at the thought and the sensation of his cock pushing into her, the cool golden application tingling at her walls as the tincture started to work.

“But I don’t share”, he whispered hoarsely, slowly letting go of her waist so she’d sink down on him entirely. Gravity worked his cock into her, and Tav gasped when she slid down on his strapped-on girth much faster than anticipated, the ridges bumping against her from the inside.

There was a flickering moment of burning stretch as her walls adjusted to him, but then…

Bliss.

She moaned out loudly when he thrusted upwards, breathing heavily. The fullness tugged at her core, and in that moment she knew she was ruined.

“Fuck”, Gortash moaned out, bringing his mouth to her collarbone to suck on her skin there. “Fuck.”

Tav rolled her hips into him. He’d been right: She was still wet enough that her slick quickly coated the strap-on, and after she pulled up and sank down again on him a few times it simply felt like the biggest cock she could have taken, stretching her continuously as her cunt clenched down on Gortash’s underside and the metal.

“Gods–“, she moaned when he reached up to squeeze her breast, guiding her nipple into his mouth. “Shit–“

The orgasm washed over her without warning. Gortash moaned when her walls clamped down on him, even tighter now, and Tav’s throat croaked out hoarse cries as her head fell back in ecstasy.

“Good”, Gortash chuckled, “The aphrodisiac properties of the tincture seem to be working.”

“What the fuck–“ Tav started, tilting her head back to shoot him a look, but his fist found her hair and yanked her head back.

“Stay like this for a while”, he murmured, starting to buck his hips into her. It was unreal: Already new heat was beginning to build in her belly. Already a new set of moans flew out of her half-parted mouth.

Tav was speechless. His grip on her hair hurt, the way he pulled her backwards was firm and unrelenting, but it felt oh so sweet. Her body was eagerly meeting his thrusts again, barely come down from the high, yet already seeking that pleasure anew.

Underneath her, Gortash was beginning to pant as well, moans flying freely from his throat as his free hand wandered over her body, exploring every piece of her he could reach. Tav’s hands held onto his head, nails digging into the soft flesh of his neck. He seemed to love the way her nails occasionally broke his skin, groaning in delight every time.

Sweat started to form on her temples and between her breasts, matching the heat she was feeling throughout her body.

“Damnation, Tav”, Gortash grunted out so needily it sent a spark down her core. “I’m close. You’re… ah– too tight…”

Hearing his arousal so blatantly turned her on even more, and when he brought his mouth to her skin, licking a long stroke across her chest up to her exposed throat, she sobbed out a needy “Please”. Groaning, he brought his hand down between their legs and started to rub at her clit, her sensitive nerves responding immediately: Crying out, Tav came almost instantaneously.

Her walls spasmed around his cock, the strap-on pressing into her flesh as she clenched down on it. Gortash moaned, her orgasm pulling him over the edge with her. His cock pulsated against the metal, twitching even harder into her cunt, and it was one of the hottest things she ever felt as they both rode out their highs, panting uncontrollably until the feeling of absolute pleasure slowly subsided.

Gortash finally let go of her hair, but immediately pulled her in for a needy kiss. The tenderness surprised her, but it wasn’t exactly unwelcome – nothing seemed to be unwelcome anymore as far as he was concerned. Tav sighed, indulging herself in the sensations of his lips on her, and his tongue against hers, until they broke apart and she carefully lifted herself off of him, sitting down on his lap with his soft cock pressed between their stomachs.

“That was incredible”, Tav murmured, brushing loose hair out of his face.

“I have to agree”, he smirked, repeating the same motion with her.

They both stared at each other for a short moment, sizing each other up in silence.

“Same time tomorrow?”, Gortash eventually asked, a small smile on his lips.

Tav’s face into a grin. “Same time tomorrow. After all, one test is hardly enough to know if your… prototype really is as good as you say.”

“Thinking like a scientist, I see”, he chuckled. “I agree. Further testing is in order.” His face softened as his hand brushed over her cheek. “In all variations. With and without my invention.”

She leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his lips, and her voice was barely a whisper when she responded. “Sounds good to me.”

There were soft sighs when they kissed again, stuttering hearts, and more than one stomach full of butterflies. Even if they didn’t know it yet, the experiment seemed to be successful – in more ways than one.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please support me in reblogging the fic <3

#enver gortash #gortash x tav #tavtash #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfic #my writing

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theskeletonprior · 10 months

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Time for a fresh new introduction! I have exactly one banner which I repeatedly alter to suit my needs, so please enjoy it. I've really stepped into this modern era. I have many names, but here, you can call me Harrowben.

30's. They/them and he/hymn. Biracial. Nonbinary transgender. Polyamorous. Skeleton. BA English Language and Literature. Probably not but possibly two-time Academy Award Winner Guillermo del Toro. (I wrote a text post that got remarkably out of hand one time.)

I’m a bookseller day-to-day. I’m also (slowly) learning to bind books. Sometimes, I even try to write them. Occasionally, when the mood takes me, I also write fanfiction. I like to make digital layouts for books, and of course I love to read! Books are my whole life. I'm a trained editor, and like most everyone these days, I am for hire. Check out my OC x Canon Emporium, but honestly, feel free to inquire if you're looking for some fiction. Words are what I do. Catch me ramblings about original work and characters, skeletons (of course!), bookbinding, and book arts, spooky nonsense, nature being its beautiful terrible self, monsters and the people who love them, that sort of thing. I do reblog fandom things from time to time, chiefly when the aesthetic vibes well with mine, or when the brainrot becomes too severe to contain.

If you need anything tagged, feel free to reach out, anon or otherwise. It’s important to me that my blog is as safe and comfy as it can be.

BIGOTED SHIT. I CAN'T STRESS ENOUGH HOW MUCH YOU SHOULD FUCK OFF IF YOU'RE A FASCIST PIECE OF SHIT. This was initially a placeholder so I would remember what I wanted to make so abundantly clear, but I stand by it. TERFs and Nazi Punks fuck off. There's no place for you with me. Better yourself.

The Bishop of Black

Honestly, my pride and joy. The Bishop of Black is an ongoing and deeply queer high-fantasy light novel that I'm writing together with my husband @rosieartsie who does all of the incredible art.

In a nation torn by a war that has been waged for centuries, tensions run high as the Kingdoms of Black and White seem to be on the verge of a lasting peace after generations of strife and bloodshed. Femi, a medic in the Kingdom of Black, is swept up into the dangerous politics of the court after a horrible tragedy returns them to the brink of war.

Check out our reading guide, if you like.

RAVENOT

My most developed WIP. A dark fantasy novel about a skeleton knight who ventures into places where the living can never go, to safeguard the balance between life and death. You can read the first chapter for free here!

AO3 | Ko-fi | Patreon (coming... when it gets here)

#writeblr #writeblr intro #amwriting #amwritingfantasy #I was due for a re-intro #This is kind of rambly but it certainly is more me #About the Prior

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ange-de-la-mort · 8 months

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What are all your fandom tats if you don’t mind me asking

nonny, thank you for asking omg. I just LOVE talking about tattoos - not just about mine but also about tattoos in general. They're just. So cool. And everyone has such an individual taste and style, it's awesome!

(Cut for length and pictures)

My first tattoo is a pink and purple Wayfinder from Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep on my wrist (because BBS is my fav Kingdom Hearts game and Xigbar/Braig used to be my fav character until a certain plot twist in KH3 that fucked up 12 years of stanning.) I haven't completely lost hope, but depending on where the games go, I just. Might get it modified or redone or touched-up or expanded. We'll see.

I got it in 2019 during my first burnout to remind myself that I belong to myself and my body is mine and only mine, so I guess it's something between a self-healing and a trans thing. I don't even know anymore. Anyway, I don't regret it, it still looks nice, but since I don't know where I'm going with it, I won't take a pic for now.

I got my second one in 2021. I've been a fan of Resident Evil ever since I was 12 years old (yes, I know, I was too young, but this was before I could piss off people on the internet by sliding into adult spaces as a kid), and while I kind of lost interest in the franchise for a while and while I HATED 7 (yes, I know. Unpopular opinion), 8 dragged me back. I commissioned a friend for the design because while I knew what I wanted - Umbrella, Steampunk, the Heisenberg logo) I'm not an artist.

I will link Vincent here, please go check out his art and buy some cool things from him, okay?

Anyway, this is the finished piece:

Since my tattoo artist fucked up a bunch of things, it's very much faded already and looks like it's like 10 years old instead of 2 already, sigh sigh, and I'll have to get it re-done soon-ish. Once I have the spare cash because this is gonna be expensive as fuck.

The third one was also designed by Vincent (no, for real, go give him money) and it's basically a glorified ship tattoo for The Quarry. I wanted something for the Travislaura working together + Lauramax reunion + Travislaura killing each other achievements, and I told Vincent I wanted it with the base of the broken mirror shards and the flowers being mirrored in them while needle and thread and hold everything loosely together. It's gorgeous, and I love it a lot. I'm very unashamed about wearing it on my chest because literally nobody gets that it's a ship tattoo until I tell them lmao

I got it last November.

Once we clean up the Resident Evil tattoo, my studio and I will also expand the Quarry one and make them look like they belong together. Which means we will make sure to give them both a water colour background blending from my left shoulder (reddish-brown/rust coloured RE tattoo) to my chest (blue and purple hues for the Quarry), we will also add a few more smaller mirror shards to my shoulder.

And. Well. Now there's the 4 birds. I initially only had a mock-up picture from the internet, but I asked my spouse to trace them off an ingame screenshot. I'm very glad we did that lmao because the mock-up would have looked way worse than what I have now. Like. I was... hoping it would look halfway okay. I had never believed it would look just fucking incredible. It's probably gonna peel in a day or two already, it's healing perfectly!

........................I want more tattoos. I grew up with games. And books. But it's mostly games that made me feel and fall in love with them. So it's gonna be more game tattoos.

(Also hi, I stream video games sometimes because *clenches fists* I just love video games.)

#kingdom hearts #resident evil #the quarry #uncharted #fandom tattoos #HELLO TELL ME ABOUT YOUR TATTOOS I WANNA SEE THEM ALL #anon

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tinkerd · 2 years

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DAVID’S NEWSLETTER Hello Welcome to my newsletter :)

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https://davidlitchfield.substack.com/p/hello

Hello everyone. I thought that it was about time I set up a Newsletter to collect all of my thoughts, bits of news and other interesting tidbits that are happening with my books in one handy, digestible message.

So, yes, thank you for signing up. Here I will be able to keep you updated with upcoming book news, illustration works in progress, sketchbook peeks and a fair few top secret exclusives!

I hope to also talk to you about some of the fun things that I am learning about being an illustrator, freelance life and what I am excited about in the world of art, illustration and culture in general.

I can’t wait to get properly started :)

But in the meantime I should mention that my main piece of news this month is that my 6th Author/Illustrator book ‘Kid Christmas: Of The Claus Brothers Bookshop’ was published by Frances Lincoln Children’s Books on the 6th October.

I know it’s way too early to be talking about Christmas but I am incredibly proud of the book and it was so much fun drawing the Victorian setting and all those classically made toys.

I was very grateful to be given the opportunity to tell my tale of Nicky Claus/Kid Christmas and his 3 Toy Maker Uncles. I have always wanted to create a Christmas story and I loved drawing the Victorian era setting and all of those classically made toys.

With this book there is an underlying message about the importance of remembering the true spirit of Christmas. But overall, my main hope is that every reader enjoys the fun, festive adventure and just has a grand old time whilst reading it.

Ho Ho Ho

Here is the blurb:

Nicky Claus works with his three uncles in the Claus Brothers Toy Emporium. Uncle Hanz makes the toys, Uncle Louis checks them and Uncle Levi adds the… what’s the scientific term for it? Ah, yes. The magic! For each toy made at the Emporium has a special sparkle that means it will find the child it is perfect for.

One day, Nicky notices a young girl with her face pressed up to the glass of the shops window. When she disappears, he follows her and finds her living on the streets with lots of other children, none of whom can afford a toy of their own. Nicky vows that for one night only, every child will have the toy of their dreams and – with the help of his uncles and some flying reindeer – the legend of Father Christmas is born.

This magical and heartwarming story from best-selling author-illustrator David Litchfield is a true festive treat centred on kindness, generosity and looking after each other.

The book is available in all good bookshops found in a town near you, as well as all the usual places online (including Waterstones, Amazon, Bookshop.org, etc)

If you do get a copy of the book, I would love to hear what you think so please do leave a rating and/or a review on any of the sites listed above or over on Goodreads

Your reviews are always greatly appreciated by me and they really do help get the good word of the book out there. I’m incredibly grateful for all of the lovely reviews that I have read so far on peoples blogs and Instagram accounts. So thank you :)

Anyway, thanks again for signing up and reading. I am working on lots of exciting projects that I can’t wait to share with you all. But until then I will bid you farewell and wish you a very merry Christmas (sorry/not sorry)

David :)

ps. Heres a few more pics of the book.

#kid Christmas #illustration

0 notes

sondepoch · 4 years

Text

HC: They see MC’s sketchbook!

Art. It’s a private thing. Showing someone your work is akin to showing them a piece of your soul, an insight into who you are and everything that lies within. So when the Obey Me! boys get a glimpse of your sketchbook, they find themselves wanting for more—and all in different ways.

Word Count: 6.0k

*Mild NSFW themes for Asmo & Diavolo

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

At the beginning of the year, there is 0 trust between the two of you

Not only has he actively tried to kill you, but he’s already so suspicious of the pacts you’re making with his brothers that he can’t help but be wary every time you cross paths

So when he realizes that you’re always absentmindedly scribbling in a notepad every time you interact, he’s more than a little perturbed by it

100% thinks you’re secretly taking notes on his and his brothers’ behavior to use it against them

So, obviously, when he next sees you using it in his presence, he wastes no time in snatching the notebook from your hands

“Oh hey, Lucif—what are you doing?!”

“Nothing you should be concerned with, human.”

“That’s my sketchbook you’re holding!”

“Sketchbook?”

Instantly flips it open and sure enough, inside there’s nothing but doodles and sketches

luci.is.confuzzled.exe

He’s still convinced that there must be something incriminating in the book, so he continues flipping through it. But the more he sees, the more he realizes how wrong he is

It’s only when he flips to the section with his family that he begins to feel guilty

In the beginning, you just draw basic poses. Mammon, glancing at you over his shoulder. Asmo, posing for a camera. Beel, about to bite down on a hamburger.

But the further he goes, the more elaborate the sketches get, and as he flips through the pages, he can feel the amount of work that has gone into each piece

And then he gets to the page where you drew him

Keep it lowkey, but he thinks his heart stopped for a second

He stares at the picture and wonders if that’s what you see every time he shifts into his demon form, because for the first time since his fall, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks. Everything looks so right in your art style, from the diamond on his forehead to the way his wings flutter out of his back.

It’s perfection

“I’m confiscating this,” He says quickly, not looking you in the eye.

He then escapes the room faster than you’ve ever seen, and never speaks of the incident again to you

But roughly a week later, you find a small red book on your pillow, and you know that it's a sketchbook from him, to replace the one he took

And even later—after the two of you grow close—you find your old sketchbook stored in his most secure drawer, locked away with a key he keeps hidden. And you know that he’s spent hours looking through the book on rough nights, through the doodles of him and his brothers and everything else you’ve ever drawn

And though he’s too proud to admit it, you know he loves your art

Mammon

He found it when he was going through your stuff, absentmindedly checking to see if you had any valuables on you

And the moment he flipped open to see your little notebook of doodles, his mind went B I N G O

He loves your art the second he sees it, spending a whole hour just sitting on your bedroom floor, flipping through the pages

Adores everything about your art style

And when he starts to see the little doodles you do of his brothers, he’s even more enraptured

You draw all the things he’s imagined but never seen: a sketch of Lucifer dressed in a onesie, snuggling a giant teddy bear. Beel, using a sleeping Belphie as a food tray for a pile of snacks as large as the sixth-born himself. Asmo with cat ears, being chased by Solomon, who appears to be a wolf.

And yet, there are no pictures of Mammon

Man is hurt by the fact that you’ve drawn all his brothers but not him. He’s your first man, after all. You should have been the first person he drew!

Gets a bit upset about it and throws your sketchbook back into the drawer he found it in, stomping back to his room with childlike indignation

Is just a bit petty about it afterward

“Hey, Mammon, can you walk me to school? Class starts in half an hour.”

“Huh? Oh, so now ya want me to do it, huh? Well, why don’t you ask Asmo instead?”

“Okay? I will???”

Soon everyone in the house has realized that Mammon’s being a bit off, and while it was nice at first to have peace and quiet from the resident troublemaker, you guys grow concerned pretty quick

And eventually, you go to his room to talk things out

Let’s just say that when you found out he’d been going through your stuff, you were not pleased. But seeing that he wasn’t going to be the mature one, you sucked it up and whacked the demon on the back of his head, telling him to “wait a second” while you went to “get something”

Cue the retrieval of your second sketchbook

And when Mammon sees it, he’s not sure what he feels more of: guilt or happiness

Every single page in this second notebook is of him. Only a few are colored, but Mammon finds himself enraptured by even the casual doodles in the corners, where he’s doing little things like eating a banana or flashing the viewer a few Grimm

Man is touched. He’s never had anyone do this for him, and certainly not out of their own volition. So suffice it to say that when he tackled you for a hug that night, he didn’t let you go for a long time

And maybe some other stuff happened too. Who knows? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Leviathan

TSL

The second Levi sees you sketching in your artbook (after an incoherent stumble of words which you assume are synonymous with praise), the only phrase coming out of this man’s mouth is TSL

Begins begging you to draw fanart of the Shadow Lord, asking you to sketch him in different outfits, draw him in different poses, put him in various backgrounds, etc.

Basically wants you to bring his imagination to life

“Oh! Oh! Can you draw him baking a cake now? Wouldn’t that be so cool?!”

Absolutely does the wwooooooOOOOOAAAHAHHHHHHH sound effect every single time you show him your work, even if you’ve only made minor changes from the last time you showed him

He takes you on a spending spree, pulling up Akuzon and offering to pay for whatever supplies you want if you’ll just make him a super fancy poster

And so you start

It actually gets to be a pretty good way to grow closer: every day, after school, you head up to Levi’s room to work on the poster he asked you to make him. In exchange, he lets you borrow his manga and you guys watch anime together

Eventually, boi gets the idea of throwing Ruri-chan into the poster, and the second he thinks it he won’t shut up about it

“Oh, come on! You can do it—look, just put her in this little corner right here!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Levi?! Ruri-chan and the Shadow Lord are two completely different characters who are meant to be drawn in completely different art styles! If I mush Ruri-chan into the corner, it’ll ruin the poster’s dynamic!”

“But pleeeeeaaaassseeeee?”

Cue extra pouty Levi

Eventually, you agree to make a separate drawing of Ruri-chan for Levi to hang up next to the poster, because you think that otherwise, he’ll go crazy

When the date rolls around where you’re almost done with everything, Levi formally sends out an invitation to everyone of importance

Man invites everyone from Luke to Diavolo over for the “revealing ceremony” where he plans to hang the poster on his wall

Actually tried to get the demon king to come as well, but Lucifer stopped him before he could get an invitation out

When everyone sees what you’ve been working on for so many weeks, they’re all MEGA impressed because hello??? they did not know you were this skilled???

It quickly turns into a competition, with each one of them trying to outdo each other with how vigorously they can compliment you

And soon enough you find yourself swamped with requests from every other demon in the room, begging you to make them something as elaborate as you did Levi

Satan

It’s a system you guys have set up, where every Tuesday and Thursday night, you’ll sit in the common room on the couch facing each other and will simply open your books to do what you will

You always draw, and Satan always reads

And neither will bother the other until the grandfather clock chimes twelve times, whereupon you both bid each other goodnight and wait for the next session where you do it all over

Except for today, that is

“What are you drawing?”

Ah, there it is

The one question you were hoping Satan would never ask

You subtly (incredibly awkwardly) change the subject, commenting on the color of Satan’s jacket to distract him from his inquiry, and he picks up on the hint, quietly huffing as he turns back to his book

But the mild irritation he feels doesn’t let him fully delve back into the realm of the nonfiction novel he was reading, so he’s more than a little distracted as he goes back to reading about human anthropology

And it’s in this state of distraction that he notices the little glances you’re stealing every so often, before returning to your sketchpad

Yeah, it doesn’t take long for Satan to put two and two together

“Are you drawing me?”

An incredulous question, asked in such an offending tone

He sounds so irate by the fact that you can’t help but helplessly deny it, muttering something about drawing plants and flowers instead

But Satan doesn’t believe it, and in an instant he’s standing behind you, staring at the sketch in your hands which has oh-so-beautifully captured the essence of him on the couch, engrossed in a book with the light from the flames in the fireplace flickering gently against his skin

The anger at being drawn without having agreed to it quickly melts into a quiet awe for your skill

“Can I see your other drawings?” He asks gently, no longer irritated but actually impressed

“I-I’m not sure if you’ll want to—”

“Nonsense. Show me.”

And so you do

You hand him the sketchbook, avoiding his eyes as he flips to the very first page—and imagine his surprise when he sees that even that is a sketch of his face, though the artwork is significantly less advanced than the piece he just saw. Satan flips to the next page, and then the next, and the next, and sure enough: they’re all of him

“I-I just needed a model to practice my artwork on,” You mumble, gaze fixated on the couch. “And you were right there, so I couldn’t resist...and then I needed a model again. And again. And you were always there, and I know I never asked, but I’m sorry, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t—“

“Nonsense,” Satan murmurs, pressing a finger to your lips. His smile has never looked as sincere as it looks now, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the sketchbook in his hands

“I’ll be your model, if you so desire it. Just tell me how you want me to sit.”

Asmodeus

Your model for everything

You’re trying to draw the Hulk and you a good frame of reference? And you need a really muscular model? And Beel ABSOLUTELY fits the bill?

Yeah no, Asmo’s your model

You want to draw a child? Someone small and short, roughly the exact same height as Luke (who is an ANGEL and would absolutely help you)? Yeah no, Asmo’s still going to be your model.

Want a cute guy? Asmo. Cute girl? Asmo. Cute animal? Still Asmo.

Man refuses to leave you alone - the second he learns that you’re an artist he insists on gracing your work with the holy sight of his body

Highkey wants to model nude

And you’d be lying if you said that he was a bad model—man can hold a pose for hours without moving even a little, his only fault is that he talks incessantly—but you can easily quiet him by saying that you’re drawing his lips - and the moment you do so, he’s suddenly he’s stiller than a statue, doing his absolute best to remain frozen so that you can capture his perfection

Boi posts 100% of your content on his Devilgram, and while you were hesitant about it at first, now you’re just used to it

Thanks to him, you’re a lowkey celebrity

Like demons love your art style

It’s apparently very refreshing and human-like as compared to the dark and dreary art found in the Devildom, so people go wild over Asmo’s Devilgram page for it

Man thinks that they’d go even more wild if you drew something where he modeled nude

In fact, it’s lowkey a business deal that the two of you have - you allow Asmo to post your work on his Devilgram (giving credit to you, of course), and in exchange he pays for all your art supplies, acts as your model (though that’s really more of him wanting to than it being your choice), and even goes as far as to keep Mammon apart from you while you work, insisting that you need “privacy” and “quiet” while you draw

100% acts like he isn’t even more chatty than Mammon when given the chance

On the bright side, it’s thanks to these weekly art sessions where you draw and Asmo models and talks that you’re always up to date on the latest gossip. You’re 100% caught up with the fact that Zahhak just found out he has another illegitimate son and that Baphomet just liked Rusalka’s post from fourteen centuries ago

So yeah, the two of you have a mutually beneficial relationship

Asmodeus still insists that one thing would make it better though: him modeling nude

But Asmo is a sweetheart about everything, and he goes out of his way to pamper you

Specifically, your hands—after all, those are what work your artistic magic!

Expect him to always be peppering your dominant hand with kisses, massaging it whenever you look tired, giving you weekly manicures completely free of charge, all out of the goodness of Asmo’s heart

*ahem* and weekly requests to model nude

Beelzebub

a m a z e m e n t

Boi is entranced

Like, he’s so mesmerized by your art that he’s not even paying attention to the food sitting right in front of him, simply opting to stare more intently at the drawing you’re holding up so eagerly

It’s quite beautiful, really: The seven demon brothers surrounding you, a reworking of a photograph Lucifer took a few months ago but in your art style. And for that last fact, Beel thinks he likes this version better

“Wow,” He finally manages to say, still too impressed to really think of anything else

He lets his brothers shower you in praise and compliments, silently nodding along and agreeing with every plaudit they thrust your way

But the moment you’re alone, expect to be scooped into his arms and carried to his room

Boi instantly wants to know the process

When do you draw? How long does it take? Where do you do it? How are you getting your supplies? Who pays?

It’s not so much the physical process he’s interested in, but rather the nuances of art that make your work look so you. He’s not interested in learning for the sake of doing, but simply for the sake of understanding because he already appreciates your art so much

Absolutely invites you to his room to have you show him the art process the next time you start working on a piece

And after the first time, then, he invites you back a second - then a third - and then the two of you have settled into a routine where after school, you come to his room and pencil away in your sketchpad, with Beel watching in the background, munching on snacks

It’s quite relaxing for him, actually

He likes watching as you bring a piece together, going over previously flat areas with a second layer of shading to make certain elements pop—and even if he doesn’t completely understand what you’re doing, he’s entirely willing to learn, listening peacefully as you explain what the various tools do

By the end of the month, man has actually memorized all the names of your supplies, handing them to you every time you ask for it - be it something as simple as a request for an eraser or just the blending stump

Lowkey, your work has actually improved since you began working up in Beel’s room

Not only does he have the most comfortable setup, but the man pampers you like royalty, always making sure that there’s water or food for you in case you need something

(And if you do happen to require something that isn’t already in Beel’s room, man will 100% get it for you so that you don’t have to stop what you’re doing)

Honestly, it’s the perfect arrangement: he gives you the ideal working space and you give him hours upon hours of intrigue

And if you happen to begin sitting in his lap one day while you work, something which quickly turns into a pattern, who’s there to stop anything? ;)

Belphegor

Man naps

A lot

And you just happen to be his favorite pillow, so it’s hardly a surprise when all your free time is spent in the presence of a dozing Belphie, always passed out over your legs

So once, just once, you pull your sketchpad out from under your pillow and work on it, a cautious eye trained on the seventh-born’s every move in case he stirs

And when that first time goes smoothly, you pull your sketchpad out a second time

Then a third

Then a fourth - and suddenly, you’re caught in a pattern

It was really just a matter of time until Belphie woke up one day and you didn’t notice

And it’s already too late when the drowsy demon lifts his head, peering curiously onto your lap to see what you’re working on—much to your horror

“Y-you’re awake,” You mutter halfheartedly, a sick feeling settling in your stomach as you watch the demon’s expression shift as he studies your artwork

You hate it

A bubble of anxiety begins to rise, fear over whether he will like your work or call it bad, whether he’ll make fun of your work or tell the brothers, whether he’ll be kind about it or mean

But then, much to your surprise, he flops back onto your lap, utterly unphased

“Nice,” The demon comments casually, stretching as he rests his head along your thigh. “It’s pretty.”

You can only blink as he falls back asleep, utterly confused as to what just happened

He woke up, right? And he saw your art? And he complimented it, telling you that he thought it was nice and pretty?

A sound of disbelief escapes your mouth as you try to process the utter nonchalance with which the whole exchange had concluded with, your shock only interrupted by the light sound of Belphie, who’s already snoring

You groan

But now that Belphie has seen your work, it’s not like there’s much point in hiding it any longer, right?

You pull your sketchbook out, silently continuing to work on the design that the man napping on your lap had said to be “nice,” adding some finishing touches to it

And when Belphie wakes up, he speaks nothing of the entire exchange

From that point and onward, you become a little more comfortable around him, relieved that you don’t need to talk about it with him

And he gets it

For all your free time, while he naps, you draw, and the two of you find a comfortable form of peace together, an odd tranquility lurking in the fact that there are no questions, no answers, just you and him, the sound of scribbling and snoring, your sketchpad and his pillow

And really, who needs anything else?

Solomon

He’s probably the first one to realize, on his own, that you’re an artist

The two of you have nearly all your classes together, thanks to Lord Diavolo, so it’s hardly surprising when the ever-astute sorcerer picks up on the fact that every time he casts you a second glance, you’re working on some mysterious sketch underneath your desk

Doesn’t really care at first

Until he sees your work

Man actually stops when he picks your sketchbook up off the ground, inspecting the page it had flipped open to after you dropped it

“Holy shit”

Doesn’t even ask for permission, he just begins browsing through the sketchbook, growing more and more impressed with each new page he sees

You only snatch the book back from his hands when you realize that the sketch he’s staring at so intently is one you drew of him, thanking him for picking it up with a huff and awkwardly trying to remove yourself from the situation as fast as humanly (heh, yes that is a pun) possible

Wizard boy stops you, ofc

“Come with me”

“But I have class soon—"

Again, doesn’t even wait for your agreement, man just drags you by the forearm to the library and flips open a book, throws down his own notebook, and demands that you use your “art skills or whatever” to help him

Sigh

Precious wizard boy isn’t very good with words when he’s all worked up

It takes you a good 5 minutes to understand that he wants you to compare the summoning circle outlined on the book with the one he sketched to identify where he went wrong, because apparently you have an “artist’s eye” and therefore you should be able to assist him - and he refuses to believe you when you try to convince him that no, this is not your strong suit and you will likely be unable to help him

He gets whinier than Asmo (probably where he gets it from) and will not stop nagging you even as you try to leave, so eventually you just give in and agree to try to help him - and it wounds up being surprisingly easy for you to realize that he missed the secondary outline of the inner circle, among another few minor mistakes

Huh, maybe you are naturally inclined toward this

From that moment and onward, Solomon decides that you are officially valuable (not only do you have magical potential, but you have an eye for summoning circles too? how UNFAIR) and begins spending all his time with you

Doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re an artist at first—is really more interested in how your skills can be applied

But then one day, after a particularly rough night of going through twelve whole summoning circles for twelve powerful demons, he takes a nap and wakes up to find you passed out on the floor, sleeping on top of your sketchbook where you fell asleep doodling him

Highkey touched

And slowly, he begins casually “falling asleep” around you more often, to see and flip through more of your artwork when he wakes up

Sigh

Bby is fucking shady even when he does wholesome shit

Simeon

Okay let’s be real

There’s no peace with the seven demon brothers. Solomon is chaotic. Luke, as much as we love him, is just a lot to be around. And even with Barbatos next to him, Diavolo is a walking tornado that tends to wreak havoc whenever he wills it (and he usually wills it).

So honestly, being with Simeon is the only place of tranquility you can find in the entire Devildom

Specifically, his room

*Which is off-limits to all the aforementioned individuals

He extended the invitation for you to spend some “relaxation time” in his quarters whenever you pleased at the beginning of the year, his angelic heart already sensing the absolute whirlwind of disaster you were walking into when you joined RAD

And while you declined his offer immediately out of politeness, you found yourself sheepishly knocking on his door not one week into the program

And now it’s become an every-day sort of thing

So yeah

Simeon knows about your art

In fact, you can’t seem to draw unless you’re in his presence, because at this point, he naturally soothes you so much that your hand is only steady when you hear the sound of his calm breathing in the background

In fact, you work best when the two of you are spread out on his couch, your back resting comfortably on Simeon’s shoulder while he writes (yes, he manually writes all his books on pen and paper) and you put your legs up on the couch, sketching away in your notebook

It’s the very image of peace, something you can’t seem to find anywhere else in this realm

And Simeon, bless his heart, may be a master of calligraphy, but the precious angel cannot draw to save his life - a fact which you have taken it upon yourself to handle

See, the angel gets tired every now and then—understandable, given that he produces literal masterpieces at his hands

And so when he gets tired, what does he do?

Make incomprehensible doodles in the upper left corners of his papers

So, of course, you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring those doodles to life (even if it requires a half-hour of inspection before you can make out what the sketch was supposed to be) and Simeon loves it

The expression of eagerness that surfaces every time you inform him that you’ve finished a piece is so rewarding, because the childlike glee with which he takes the paper from your hands to inspect it always sends a rush of warmth to your heart as he gushes in appreciation

But uh

Simeon is a special kind of chaotic, something that manifests every time he doodles something on paper

You stare at the angel in disbelief as he informs you that his latest doodle (what appears to be a banana-looking creature in sunglasses?) was actually a monkey ironing clothes—unsure what to say in light of this information

But it’s okay :) There only needs to be one artist in this relationship, and it clearly isn’t him

Luke

It started with cake

He needed “inspiration” to make something for Barbatos, as a thank-you gift for the pastry lessons the elder gave him, but Luke claimed that everything he made, while it tasted fine, lacked in the aesthetic department

And while normally you would play it Simeon-style, leaving it to the younger angel to handle things on his own so that he can grow individually, you felt too bad watching him discard another batch of cupcakes into Beel’s mouth, rubbing his head in aggravation over how annoying it was that nothing was looking right

So you helped him out

It was nothing major, really

Just eight doodles—subtle yet elegant designs for a triple-tiered cake, childish and bouncy arrangements to store flan, little details in frosting to give cupcakes the added element of specialty that makes them infinitely better

But the second Luke saw your paper, he went wild

Boi was running to the kitchen so fast he barely even had the time to shout “thank you”

Apparently, your little sketches sparked inspiration in him so strongly that the flames burned til midnight (much to Simeon’s disapproval), but when Luke was finally done with everything, he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts that looked so perfect it was hard to imagine that he brought them to life from your sketches

Luke spent ages thanking you, shoving desserts down your throat even when you insisted that you were full, so unimaginably grateful that you helped him out of what he called “chef’s block”

Each “thank you” was accompanied either a brownie or a slice of mango mousse or whatever new pastry Luke was creating that day, and before long you were getting to enjoy luxury foods on the daily (much to Beel’s jealousy)

Boy only believed that the debt was paid when you told him that there was no debt to pay, that you sketched those quick little doodles for him out of kindness and not obligation

Believe it or not, Luke’s eyes actually welled with tears for a second at that, before he wrapped you up in a giant (is it really giant if the hugger is so little?) hug, wailing something about you being too “pure” and “perfect” for the Devildom, and that one day you would be very happy in the Celestial Realm

You pat his head, telling him that if it truly made him this happy, you would be glad to help him out again and sketch some food doodles whenever he wanted some new ideas

Cue another round of hugs, muffled crying, and sobs about how amazing you are

Barbatos

Barbatos knew, of course

Not because he used his powers or anything, he would hardly use them for something so trivial, but he was aware from the start that you were an artist because it was he who prepared for your arrival in the Devildom, ensuring that you had all the same amenities and comforts you were used to in the human realm

And, as such, that included art supplies

So the very moment he set his eyes on you, he was aware that you were an artist

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually be good at it

He sees your sketchbook when he’s casually strolling through the RAD library, finding you completely knocked out on one of the tables, the spiral binding of the sketchpad still digging indents into your cheek where you lie on top of it

At first, the butler rearranges your position as a courtesy

He lifts your head and rests it on your hand - which makes a much softer pillow - coincidentally placing your books back inside your bag and taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across the desk

But then he just happens to glance inside

And the second he does, he’s mesmerized

There’s not much in the world that can surprise Barbatos - not after he’s looked after Diavolo, of all people, for so many millennia - but the butler still finds himself holding his breath as he flips through your sketchpad, each piece telling a story so evocative that it leaves him wanting more even when he arrives at a blank page, abruptly realizing that he’s just gone through your entire sketchbook without your permission

Of course, you just have to wake up at that precise moment - sleepy eyes glancing up at the butler and wondering if you’re hallucinating, but the book in his hands is far too real and the shocked expression on his face is impossibly jarring and you flinch, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you realize what must have happened

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman about it, kindly telling you to get more rest so that you don’t pass out in a public library surrounded by demons who want to eat your soul, but he ends the sharp warning with a rather kind remark about your artwork

“I liked the second-last piece best,” He murmurs, casting you a cryptic smile before bidding you farewell

And obviously, the moment he’s out of sight, your nose is buried in your sketchbook, fingers flipping furiously to find the second-last piece you drew which you cannot seem to remember at all, and—

A flush immediately erupts on your cheeks as you see the colored sketch, something inspired by nothing more than a whim

It’s simply two people on a walk—both of them vague imitations of what your mind had wistfully conjured up—one of them bearing the telltale mismatched hair and olive green eyes, the other sharing a quiet resemblance to yourself - a conscious decision, of course

But just as you’re about to flip off the page, another detail you’d forgotten about draws your attention—and your cheeks suddenly burn in embarrassment as you realize why Barbatos singled this piece out

The figures are smiling, gazing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And there, in the very center of the piece, it is obvious:

They are holding hands

Diavolo

RIP to Diavolo’s royal painter

They have been replaced

By you

As much as you fought it, as much as you argued that you were not fitting of this position, as much as you pleaded with the demon lord to not force this title upon your shoulders, Diavolo’s decision to appoint you as the honorary Devildom painter was final—and nothing can change his mind once it’s made up

The title is really just that: a title. Diavolo knows that you’re a busy student, and while he honored your artistic talents with this position, he’s not about to actually force you through the expected proceedings of a true royal painter, not while you’re trying to survive being an exchange student in hell with an entirely unfamiliar curriculum in front of you

But on occasion, he’ll send you a text, asking if you’re free

And you’ll head on over to his palace, ready to paint him

And unlike every other demon, angel, and human in the Devildom, when Diavolo models for you, he actually models nude

Asmo is jealous

Sexual tension is high when you paint him, let’s just leave things at that

And honestly, it really doesn’t matter what you paint - Diavolo seems to be more interested in the fact that it’s a human who did the art in the first place

He once saw your RAD binder, noticing the little doodles you’d drawn on the corner of all your papers, and he immediately took them—declaring that they were art to be preserved for all eternity for historical documentation purposes

So yeah

There’s a hall in Diavolo’s palace filled with your RAD math homework, an eternal reminder of the assignments you copied off of Solomon

(You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you’ve drawn some rather inappropriate doodles on those pages or the fact that, despite having copied all the answers, you still managed to get nearly one-third of the problems wrong, and now your mistakes are to be showcased in the Devildom for centuries to come)

It gets to the point where you and Solomon start making bets over how basic you can get with your art for Diavolo to still consider it “amazing” and “utterly awe-inspiring,” as he likes to put it

In honor of that bet, there is currently a banana peel with a few marker doodles on it hanging in a preserved case in an iced room in the lowest levels of the palace, as none of the “art” can be wasted

But in truth, the demon lord’s fixation with human culture is endearing, especially when Diavolo tries so hard to be accepting of it

So eventually you stop giving Diavolo wacky art and actually start putting your full effort into your creations—your reward being the fact that the final piece you complete gets hung in Diavolo’s private bedroom, where he promises to gaze at it every night for the rest of eternity, vowing to remember his time with you every time he sees it

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

Text

MC + Cursed Toddler-fied Boys

prompt: All the boys suffer the same fate as Satan by reading ‘The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization’

Lucifer

You have to wonder why they kept so many cursed books around, just out like this. You would think, like any normal person, with this continuing to happen, that they would keep them locked up or something. But no. They just leave them out for anyone to find….

“I’m going to the meeting!” Lucifer yelled, stamping his foot. His face twist in a petulant frown. It would be rather adorable, if you hadn’t been arguing with him for the past 20 minutes

“Lucifer, we talked about this. You can’t go to the meeting. You need to stay here.”

“No! I wanna go to the meeting! It’s very important and everyone is counting on me!” His arms are wailing now as he stamped his foot more.

Of course, you couldn’t let him go to the first of the month meeting like this. His pride would be wounded beyond compare if anyone else saw him like this. But reasoning with him wasn’t working. You had to resort to more, unsavory tactic to win. “But the meeting was cancelled. Lord Diavolo called earlier to let me know.”

Lucifer stopped stamping his feet and waving his arms to look at you with a vacant expression you didn’t know he could muster. “Really?”

Gods help you. “Yes, really.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment before he beamed, “ok!” His mood instantly brightening. “I believe you, because [Y/N] would never lie to me.” ‘Forgive me Lucifer’ You think to yourself. “What are we gonna do instead then?”

“Why don’t we play a game instead to pass the time? Would you like that?”

“I know chess!” He exclaimed loudly. “Let’s play that.”

Of course, knowing and being good at it were two different things. In this state you were actually able to beat Lucifer several times. When he retuned to normal the day was ‘conveniently’ put away for sometime after.

Mammon

“Mammon. Please. I’ll just be gone for a minute.”

“Nooooooo!” Mammon wailed when you tried to get up again. Clinging to your waist tightly to keep you on the couch. “Onii-chan said you had to stay with me! Stay with me! Stay with me!”

After reading The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization, Mammon had, of course, reverted to the personality of a small child. His brother made fun of him, say ‘what’s the difference’, but Lucifer knew that this could be a disaster if he was set to wander free in this state across the Devildom. So he sat you to babysit him.

“Mammon, I promise I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get us some snacks for our movie.”

“Then let me come with you!” He whined, still clinging to you. In this state it seemed he had also taken on the personality of a baby duck. Imprinting on you and following you around everywhere you went in his room. He hadn’t left you alone for 5 seconds since he got this way. “I promise I’ll be good!”

“It’s not a question of you being good or bad Mammon-chan.” He liked to be called Mammon-chan right now. “It’s that you need to stay here. If someone sees you like this well…they could use it to tease you.”

“No…I don’t want to be teased anymore….” His voice was low, and sad. His bright eyes looking on the verge of tears, like kids do when they’re said, before he buried his face into your side. “Mammon-chan doesn’t want to be made fun of anymore. Mammon-chan also doesn’t want to be alone anymore.”

You sigh. Unable to argue with him when he was like this. Your hand lifted to pet his head, which he seemed to appreciate, before you text Satan to bring you some snacks. He was always reliable and would do it for you.

Once the affects of the book had worn off, Mammon denied any of this happening. The mere mention would cause his face to turn red and yell about how, “that didn’t happen!” You almost wish you had taken a video of it to show him. Guess you would just have to keep Mammon-chan forever in your heart.

Levi

You went to Levi’s room after class to check on him in his….condition.

Since he did remote learning a lot of the time, being an otaku, it was pretty easy to keep him away from people so they did see him in the current state he was in. Apparently as a toddler he didn’t like being around people either.

So, you had set him up comfortably in his room before heading to class. Promising to come back that afternoon to be with him.

“Levi! I’m back! How are you—what are you doing?!?!”

“Playing with my toys.” Levi replied, with an obvious expression, as a sea of toys stretch out in front of him where he laid on his belly on the floor.

Your brain stopped. Completely at a loss for words. Levi was going to kill you when he returned to normal, because toddler-Levi, left unattended, had unboxed nearly all of his figurines from their packaging. Some of which were incredibly rare, and unable to get anymore.

“I just…I mean…Why?? Why would you do this??”

“They’re my toys.” Levi replied with a pout. Sitting up. “I can do what I want with them. What’s the point in having neat toys if you aren’t going to play with them??”

He did have a point there. But adult-Levi was going to be so mad!

“Do you want to play with me?” The demon asked with a hopeful expression. “You can even be blue Ruri-chan.” The limited edition, color swap Ruri-chan from 1999. He was gonna blow a gasket!

“Yeah. Ok.” But then again, when were you ever going to be able to touch them again.

As expected, Levi totally lost it when he came to his senses. Of course, there was no one to blame but himself, in the end, so he just had to be upset and mope alone. Thankfully, none of them were broken or beyond just out of their originally packaging. He bought them all clear showcase boxes for his ‘ruined’ figurines. Some of them he could rebuy to replace; which seemed to make him happy to have two.

Satan

It had been hours since the affects of the book had taken ahold of Satan. You were starting to wonder if they would ever wear off.

Lucifer had left in search of another book, one that might help speed the process along, and left his younger brother in your care. Of course you were happy to help, but you were getting nervous you would never see the old Satan again.

“[Y/N]-chan?” You look up from your phone, waiting for Lucifer to text you back, to see the blonde demon looking timidly at you from around the corner.

“What is it Satan?”

“Would you….read to me?” His hands holding out the small children’s book he had some how found in the piles of books covering his room.

You smile softly at him. Your heart warmed by his request. “Of course,” you tell him, and the demon scampered over to sit on the bed beside you. His long legs and body tucked neatly into you as he waited for you to tell him the story of a little lost chicken and it’s journey back home. “[Y/N] tells the best stories!”

After 3 stories, he had fallen asleep. When he woke up, Satan was back to normal. He doesn’t answer your questions on where the children’s books had come from, but you spot the red & gold spines on his book shelves sometimes.

Asmo

There was no denying that Asmo was fascinated by art and all things beautiful. He went on and on about it any chance he got. So you shouldn’t have really been surprised when his toddlerfied self just wanted to draw all day.

“Look, look [Y/N]-chan! I finished another one!”

“That’s great Asmo.” You praise. Just like you had done with all the other ones he had handed to you. “Wow! This is really great! Is that a….chicken?”

“No, silly! That’s the white horse for our carriage when we get married!” The demon beamed, then shuffled over on his knees to instruct you on his picture properly. “That’s you, and that’s me. That’s the princess carriage that’s going to ride us off into the sunset. That’s Solomon and Simeon throwing flowers at us. That’s my brothers crying because I got to marry [Y/N]-chan and they didn’t.”

“You certainly seem to have all the parts here.” You praise. Giggling at his enthusiasm and picture.

“I want to have a perfect picture of when we get married. Because I love [Y/N]-chan! And we’re gonna get married and live happily ever after.” He replied, with certainty, with a smile.

“Well, I’ll be glad for that. Why don’t you draw me our perfect house for after we get married?” Asmo scampered off and did just that.

When Asmo came to, and back to his normal self, he took all the pictures he had drawn and framed them. Forcing his brothers and Solomon to take a tour of his mini-art gallery. The piece ‘Marriage of Two Bonded Souls’ was met with some controversy.

Beel

Beel, in his younger days, seemed to have boundless energy. Or you at least had to assume he did, because ever since he had read that stupid book he had been running around.

Lucifer had told you to take him outside. Irritated at hearing his large feet clump around the house, but trying not to show it since it wasn’t his fault. He even let you both take Cerberus outside to help run Beel out. It would be good for the pup too. Get some exercise, he said.

That had been sometime ago, and it seemed baby-Beel and Cerberus were an even match in energy. They had been running around, chasing each other, and play fighting in the back yard all afternoon. You were tired just watching them.

“Beel! Do you want to come in? I think it’s time for a break.”

Both Beel and Cerberus pop their heads up, in a comical and adorable unison head tilt, before jogging over to you. “Break time means snack time right?!”

You chuckle a little. Somethings never changed. “I brought some apple slices & peanut butter for you, for now. We can get you something bigger when we go inside.”

Beel grinned and sat in the grass with the container. “I like apple slices!”

“You do hn?” You don’t think you’ve seen Beel eat an actual fruit on its own. It was usually attached to, baked in, or covered in something, to get him to eat it.

“Yep! They’re crunchy and sweet. Just like you! Though, I guess you aren’t crunchy. Do you want one of my apple slices [Y/N]?”

You blush a little at Beel’s bright, unwavering expression. How could he look so innocent while still looking like that?

He finished his apple slices, minus one, before asking if he could go play again. You let him, but then all of a sudden he spotted playing with Cerberus and stood straight up. Seeming confused on how he got out here and what was going on. “Did I eat an apple? I haven’t had one since….do you think we have more in the kitchen?”

Belphie

It was honestly hard to tell if Belphie was under the spell of the forbidden book or not. He’d been asleep for most of the time; which was not uncommon for him. Then he would wake up and whine a little about something; again, not uncommon for him. Then he would take another nap.

You had figure out that he was still under it’s spell by the requests he was making when he woke up. Juice boxes. More plushies. His ‘blankie’. Eventually it would run its course though, and Belphie would be back to his own sleepy eyed, grown up self. “[Y/N]?”

You walk over to the bed when the demon called your name. The boy half sitting up, but still tucked under his covers. “What is it Belphie?”

“I can’t sleep.” He stated. Which seemed ridiculous since he had been sleeping most of the day. “I miss Lilli. And Be-be. Can you sleep with me?”

You blink at little at the request. You supposed it made since. Kids often wanted someone to sleep with them, so they didn’t have bad dreams or could keep them safe. Maybe that’s why he had been sleeping so much. Because he hadn’t been sleeping well, just sleep.

“Sure Belphie. I’ll lay down with you.” The demon smiled softly, sleepy, before he scooted over to give you some space to lay next to him.

He slept for a while this last time. Clinging onto you in his sleep, with a soft smile on his face. When he woke up, it seemed he was back to normal. “Gosh [Y/N]. If you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to trick me with that lame book.”

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siriusmydeer · 3 years

Note

ooo okay so a James Potter x reader soulmate au where they feel each others pain, and she has a suspicion he's her soulmate but it's confirmed when he falls off his broom, and she hates him being her soulmate because he's in love with lily, but he says that lily doesn't matter anymore blah blah, and she says she first thought it was him when he fell of a bench in the great hall or something after confessing his love for lily in front of the entire school (1)

‘all along that they were soulmates but she tells him its really inconsiderate for being so obvious about his love for lily when he knew he had a soulmate and he feels really guilty and tries to make it up for her and yeah fluff ending please :)’

the painful soulmate

james potter x fem!reader

summary: in a world where you can feel your soulmates pain; your soulmate happens to think someone else is his soulmate

word count: 2.2k

warning: swearing, mentions of verbally abusing someone, mentions of beating people up, injuries; falling in the air, cracked ribs, tripping, face planting. joking name calling, kissing, angst, soulmate au, insinuation of unrequited love, fluff ending

by the age of 16 you and every other witch along with wizard were given a particular... gift. you wouldn’t consider it a gift, more like your worse fucking nightmare but you could squeal and pretend to be all dainty and excited about meeting your soulmate.

i mean why not give someone a choice on who they wanted to love? this wasn’t a game of spin the bottle this was forever.

being the only female in your friend group, made all the boys amongst you ridiculously pry into your privacy. wanting to know who they had to verbally torture considering they would scoop up the ‘precious little baby-girl’ of the group.

coming directly from the drama queen himself; sirius black. it’s not like they could beat up your partner because you would be able to feel his or her pain as-well.

you were sat in the marauders dorm absently playing with your fingers while looking at each of your mates, sirius and remus attempted to finish their plans on a new prank for the newest defence against the dark arts teacher, james sat at his desk table writing up ways to ask lily more dramatically than the last and peter had been figuring out his transfiguration homework from a few days prior.

“prongs, if you know she’s gonna say no, then why ask?” remus questioned not even looked at the sapphire-eyed boy. his only logic being, ‘well ill turn her no into a yes.’ as if coercion was the way to go.

the brunette sat at the table swiftly turning his head in the lyncanthropes direction, his spectacles almost falling down his nose from the quick snap of his head. “well, lily-pad has always said, ‘not in a million years!’ but that means after a million years she’d go out with me.” finishing his speech with a small grin.

the rest of the group on the other hand looked at him dumbfounded. eyebrows either scrunched or furrowed, “james m’afraid that’s not how it works.” you spoke, trying to ease his feelings as if your words could stop his incessant pining.

“well, i’ll just make it work!” turning around and continuing his list, speaking as if he was godric gryffindor coming up with the best idea of the century. “ten galleons she says no again.” sirius quickly whispers in peters direction, the dirty blonde haired boy doing a quick nod then looking back at his parchment.

“i heard that!”

the next time there was a ramble of soulmate talk, which by the way you were getting exhausted from. why did everyone have to have a soulmate? why couldn’t you pick from your own free will? it’s not even like you could have a bloody crush because there was already someone supposedly out there for you!

one free period, ONE! and it’s spent over peter narrowing down his options on all the gryffindor girls he might be paired with. “it’s definitely not marls, peter.” sirius’ pearl irises glanced at peter than over to remus who was trying to teach you how to play wizards chess.

“moony, not to be offensive, but this game sucks arse.” you shrugged, glaring at your queen piece that looked like it wanted to yell at you. as you were twisting around the wood of your pieces, james got up from the bench catching a glimpse of red among the ravenclaw students. instead tripping on the stone of the bench and face planting into the freshly cut grass.

you felt a soreness at the fronts of your calves and an immense discomfort on your face. you grimaced while rubbing your knees trying to soothe the random shoot of exertion through your veins to the point where you almost had the urge to groan.

james quickly scrambled to his feet trying to brush out his hair that had sprinkles of green all over the front, you completely ignored the fact that james’ fall broken by the stone of the bench had caused you to have a twinge of pain into your system.

“none of you saw that.” he panted with slight embarrassment, directing his message to sirius who had his hand clenched into a fist over his lips attempting to cover up the small chortles that were threatening to escape his lips.

“don’t worry, we saw nothing.” you confirmed with an amused grin, putting your two fingers over your lips like a seal.

he grinned back at you twice as hard, your heart starting more of an upbeat frequency that you started to notice as he sat beside you moving a piece that could ruin remus’ chance at winning.

“you slimy git! you’re helping her cheat, you little slag!” remus whined, trying to analyze the board again.

after your recovery, from absolutely nothing. you were sprawled on the scarlet-couch waiting for the rest of your friends to come back from detention. you dazed into a book remus had recently given to you, an icepack laying on your foot as you were almost hypnotized by the pride and prejudice book in your hands.

“oi, m’lady!” sirius abruptly shouted while returning to his common room. you jumped from the stentorian voice, that sunk into the now not-solemn and peaceful common room.

you turned your head seeing the bespectacled boy limp onto the other vermillion couch and rest his leg onto the plush of the pillow, meanwhile, the fawn and dirty blonde haired boys sat in the gryffindor-red love seats tired from their detention.

“what’s wrong with him?” you asked, referring to james’ leg that was propped under the pillow.

“we don’t know, we were walking and he just picked up his foot in agony. who knows maybe lily stubbed her toe.” sirius amused to the rest of the group. but your eyes widened in concern, but you had— there’s absolutely and completely no way. more than one person can stub their toe in one day, not just— just one person.

almost like you were in a daze or hypnotized, as stealth as possible you grabbed the maroon coloured blanket that was rested on the arm rest of the couch you spread it over your legs covering the foot; that you had injured previously that day.

what the fuck. no seriously, what the fuck. there wasn’t— there couldn’t even be— that wouldn’t work. it’s not possible. the butterflies, the flushed face, the nervous ticks— fuck.

over the course of the next few days, you were very careful. you could’ve been mary friggin’ poppins i mean you didn’t want him to get suspicious if you were both injured at the same time. you also did not want to know if he— the boy pining over lily fucking evans since first year was possibly— no there’s no way.

the following week there was a slytherin and gryffindor quidditch game. which also happened to be incredibly nerve wracking not only for you but between both houses, as much as slytherin wanted to seem nonchalant there act was simply not going to work. this determined who would be playing in the quidditch house cup, slytherins also happened to not play the fairest in quidditch so extra gryffindor training was keen.

well now that following week, was today. the game was fine, great even. gryffindor was in the lead and james was about to score a quaffle in the hoop, that was until slytherin beater decided to bat a bludger right into james torso causing him to collapse off his broom twenty five feet into the air with nothing to break his fall. at the reflect of the bludger on james ribs you already groaned hunched over into your seat catches the attention of both peter and sirius.

dumbledore did all the spells he could in such a swiftly manner before james skidded on the muddy grass of the pitch. by then you couldn’t even hold in the moans and groans from his affliction with the hard iron bludger and the fall from the air.

both peter and sirius’ eyes widened and shared a look before taking concern to your arching figure. “m’god i didn’t think it hurt that bad!” you groaned into your hands that could almost be seen as trembling from the agony that you were in as james’ team mates brought him down to the infirmary to check for injuries which he did in-fact have.

after sirius had brought you to your dorm, attempting to do a spell to rid you of most-but not all of your pain he raced to healers wing, seeing james on the verge of unconsciousness as madam pomfrey tried to whip up a potion in a fast manner to heal the boy.

i guess it was true— james was your soulmate. your soulmate in love with another woman that is.

a few hours later james was ordered to stay the night for observation, while both sirius and peter decided to catch up remus along with james up on the other ‘things’ more, or less, that occurred during the quidditch match.

him, and lily.... weren’t soulmates? he thought maybe one day they would’ve ended up together, at some point. not his very best friend being the one he’s ‘destined’ with. but he was desperate to speak with you, how did you know? did you even know? how bad did it hurt? he had so many questions scattered around his brain, until he saw your face that was close to a grimace from pain.

“hi.” you whispered, catching his attention.

“hey.” he whispered back hoarsely, gulping at the sudden tension in the room.

“so we’re—“ “you’re my—“ you both spoke at the same time, following an humourless more-so nervous chuckle, from the both of you.

“how long— did you even know?” james started, looking at your figure as if you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

you sat down nervously, cracking your knuckles as you were unsure where to start. “i thought— i started wondering, that day me and rem were playing chess and you fell.” you cleared your throat while speaking, avoiding eye contact entirely. “my knees started to hurt, but i didn’t even notice it. the day that you came into the common room limping, was when i suspected it.” you wrung your fingers together nervously, then looking into his irises.

“you knew? why didn’t you—“ his anger already starting to get the best of him, you knew that you were his soulmate. you were right in-front of him, but you never told him; he almost felt betrayed.

“i didn’t know! only suspected. but you have to understand, james. you were incessantly pinning after lily, you claimed you were ‘in love with her’. you’re making it seem like it was gonna be so easy for me to tell you that ‘guess what, james! the girl you love actually isn’t your soulmate and it’s your best friend you have no interest in!’ prongs, m’fraud s’not that easy.” you mocked, proving your correct argument to him based on his actions.

he took a shaky breath, analyzing basically his whole life in-front of him. even though he might’ve ‘loved’ lily, you were still more important to him. soulmate or not, he would always go to you first. he could barely stand to fight with you, he couldn’t loose you over some silly crush that he had.

“it doesn’t matter— lily— she doesn’t matter. y/n it’s you, soulmate, not soulmate, who cares! lily or not lily, you’ve always been my go-to, my number one, i mean you’ve always been the most important!” he said drastically while punctuating his words, and flailing his arms in the air to prove his point to you.

you sighed looking at him, almost unsure of his words. he looked at you expectantly before speaking again, “i’ll get on my knees right now and beg to you. with broken— well now bruised but priory broken ribs. not to mention my stubbed toe.” he chuckled at last second trying to humour you.

“oh my g— get up!” you snickered at him, james potter was on his knees fighting all the pride in his system right in-front of you where you were sat. his hands grasped both sides of your thighs trying to soothe you into you forgiving him.

at the sight of him right infront of you, with the best sirius black puppy dog eyes he could muster with a pouted lip you immediately gave in. “fine.” you sighed, “fine, fine, fine.” you giggled.

both of his hands encasing your cheeks, a small pout on your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his elbows resting on your thighs. you looked at him pretending to ponder off in thought; shrugging while you spoke, “hmmm, maybe. i gues—“ he quickly cut you off, kissing your pouted lips in the middle of a sentence.

you kissed back, holding his face between your agile fingers. your right hand resting on his squared jaw and the other in his fluffy and borderline-sweaty hair. your lips slotting together, he could feel the mint taste from the gum you have chewed earlier bleed onto his tastebuds; you on the other hand, not such a memorable taste.

you quickly pulled away, a dramatic whine escaping from his throat. “you remember when you face planted into the dirt earlier?” you giggled while asking him. he looked at you confused; why would... you... be asking if he remembered himself falling?

“erm, yeah i can recall.”

“yeah your mouth tastes like dirt.”

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the-lone-witch-and-secret-room · 3 years

Text

“Oh, and one more thing before I leave... please be nice to your sister, okay? I know you guys can be pretty cool, but what you did at the library was taking things way too far , and if you ever actually hurt Amity with something you do, I’m going to stop being friends with you.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it.”

“Hear that, Mittens? She’s super protective of you! That’s adorable,” Edric teased Amity, winking at his little sister.

Amity could feel her cheeks heat up even more.

“I said shut it.” She sighed. “Sorry about that. Anyway... Luz, I’m... really going to miss you.”

There was an instant change in the tone when Amity said Luz’s name, switching from her being annoyed at her siblings to an incredibly soft voice in a matter of seconds.

Luz pulled her into a bear hug.

“Me too. I’ll miss you so much, Lemon Drop. Especially our book club.”

Amity just melted into the hug and never wanted to let go of her friend again. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink at the new nickname that Luz had just blurted out without thinking much about it.

Meanwhile, everyone around them was exchanging weird looks.

“Did- did Luz just call Mittens ‘Lemon Drop’?” Emira whispered to her twin brother.

Edric nodded.

“And Mittens didn’t even kill her.”

“Luz, listen, I-” Amity swallowed hard. “There’s something that I need to tell you before you go.”

~Excerpt from Locked Out chapter one

This lovely piece of art is by shadowspd that a fan of mine commissioned! Definitely go check out their other art!

#the owl house #lumity #toh #luz noceda #amity blight #locked out #toh locked out #luz x amity #Emira Blight #edric blight #blight siblings #edalyn clawthorne #eda clawthorne #eda the owl lady #king the owl house #gus porter #Willow Park #locked out AU #locked out art

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mitthsyndic · 3 years

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Here is my second attempt at writing Thrawn, much longer this time! Again if you have any criticisms or feedback then please feel free to share!

Read on AO3.

Summary: Lieutenant Thrawn meets the reader (gender neutral) at the Ascension Week celebrations on Coruscant, and she offers to show him around her art gallery. (Based roughly on the 2017 Thrawn book).

Pairing: Thrawn x Reader (gender neutral, Thrawn is still a Lieutenant at this point).

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,715.

A Keen Eye

If you'd learned at least one thing from your meeting with Lieutenant Thrawn, it was that he was passionate about art.

He wasn't simply an admirer or even a collector; he'd told you in detail about how he used an enemy's artwork in order to anticipate their tactics in battle, and ultimately defeat them. From what you could gather from his companions, this proved to be effective far more often than not. Your own companions scoffed dismissively at these claims, and not so politely ushered your group away from Thrawn towards more powerful, influential partygoers.

However, you believed you could understand where Thrawn was coming from, and you felt compelled to see his analysis in action. After all, it wouldn’t exactly be an inconvenience to you, as he could simply meet you at your own art gallery here on Coruscant. Furthermore, it didn’t take a keen eye for art to notice Thrawn’s strikingly good looks; his dark blue skin and illuminating red eyes caused him to stand out among the other guests, and he was what drew you over here in the first place. If he didn’t appear to be interested in any romantic prospects, you figured you could at least have some fascinating discussions about the pieces in your gallery.

"I had best follow my companions. However, Lieutenant Thrawn, I'd like to observe your analysis of artwork and the military conclusions you draw in person. Please, take my comm details and contact me to arrange a meeting at my gallery - that is, if you have any spare time." You smiled at him as you offered him your comlink.

His eyes flicked briefly between your face and the comlink, as though he was unsure how to proceed. You tried to read his face; it was unwavering and unreadable. Well, almost. You could have sworn you saw the corner of his mouth slightly upturn into a smile.

Taking your comlink and quickly inputting his details, he responded coolly, "That would be most pleasant. Allow me to check my schedule for my remaining days on Coruscant, and I shall respond with my availability."

As he handed you back your comlink, your fingers brushed for a brief second. The fleeting contact was intoxicating, yet his expression remained unvarying. It was almost impossible to tell how he felt about the momentary brush of your hands, or if he could tell that your proposition was identical to that of a date.

"Of course. It was delightful meeting the three of you, and I hope to see you again soon." Politely smiling at Ensign Vanto and Colonel Yularen, you reluctantly trailed after your friends, leaving you with the rest of the evening to reflect on your meeting with Lieutenant Thrawn.

It was late; with your thoughts consumed by your encounter with Thrawn, you had left the celebrations and gone to bed at your apartment on Coruscant. Awoken by the faint alert of your comlink, you drowsily sat up and picked it up, allowing the incoming transmission through.

“Apologies if I woke you. This is Lieutenant Thrawn.” His smooth voice echoed out of the comlink.

“No, not at all. And, please, there’s no need for titles when we’re alone.” You boldly suggested. From what you could gather, Thrawn was exceptionally good at reading body language and tone, so you tried to convey your desire for a more informal relationship, in case he hadn’t gathered the implications behind your invitation.

“Of course.” You were certain you could hear a smile behind his voice. “This may be of short notice, but I will only remain on Coruscant for another day. There is a lapse in my schedule tomorrow evening, and I leave the following morning. I would like to see the works in your gallery, and hopefully demonstrate my... abilities to you then.”

He was incredibly difficult to read -even more so when you couldn’t see him in person, but you were sure that you could detect a hint of flirtation in his tone.

“Tomorrow evening works for me. Allow me to send you its location. If you need any directions or your schedule suddenly changes, then feel free to contact me. I’ve got my comlink on me at all times.”

“Thank you. I look forward to meeting you again soon.” Your comlink clicked off, and Thrawn was gone once again.

You laid back down and allowed your mind to drift off to sleep, thoughts consumed by the mysterious Lieutenant Thrawn and your ‘date’ tomorrow.

You’d spent all day debating on whether or not to close the gallery and give Thrawn a private tour, and, eventually, you decided against it. It was never busy at this time of night anyway, and you didn’t want to appear too forward if you had in fact misinterpreted his intentions, and he really was here to only demonstrate his analytical abilities. Then came the matter of your outfit; he’d provided a rough estimation of his time of arrival, so you couldn’t exactly run off and change into something more ‘date-worthy’ before he arrived, but if you dressed in your regular work clothes then Thrawn may believe that this meeting was strictly business. After much deliberation, you’d settled on an in between that appeared professional, yet a little flirtatious.

Once that was sorted, all you had to do was wait. Many admirers came and went, as did the occasional interested buyer, yet the minutes passed by slowly as you anxiously anticipated his arrival. Normally, you would consider yourself a fairly confident, collected individual, if somewhat an overthinker, but in comparison to Thrawn? You felt almost neurotic.

Although he’d spent almost a full day now preoccupying your mind, all coherent thoughts dissipated out of your head once he finally stepped into your gallery. He was precisely on time, and wearing simple black garments that had presumably been issued to him by the Empire upon his admission into the academy. From what Colonel Yularen had said, Thrawn had been practically discovered by the Empire, as his home planet was not in a region familiar to you. He also hadn’t mentioned what species he was; at first guess he appeared to be Pantoran, yet his glowing red eyes suggested otherwise. You made a mental note to ask him at some point this evening. Furthermore, you realised he actually hadn’t told you his last name -or maybe he hadn’t told you his first name? As your lack of true knowledge about the man who stood in front of you became more and more apparent, it began to feel like an incredibly stupid idea to invite him here.

Though, it was too late to do anything about that now. I guess I’ll have to make sure I learn everything I didn’t think to ask, you thought as you approached him. His expression was indecipherable, as, you began to suspect, it always was.

“Welcome, Thrawn. May I call you that, or is that your surname? I didn’t think to ask yesterday.” You bit the bullet and chewed your way through the awkward question.

“It is Mitth'raw'nuruodo. My native language is Cheunh, and Chiss is the name of my species.” He broke eye contact and looked around at the gallery, and you did the same. Currently, it was just the two of you in there. “May I ask how you came to acquire the gallery and its pieces?”

Though, Thrawn didn’t appear to find it awkward at all. Your eyes locked, and that same small smile you identified the night before appeared on his face. “Yes, you may call me Thrawn. That is my core name, as Chiss names can be difficult for many species to pronounce.”

“Ah, I understand. May I hear it anyway? And, is Chiss the name of your language then?” You asked delicately, although Thrawn appeared unbothered by your questions.

“Well, I’ve had a passion for art since I was very little, both painting and admiring it. I practiced as much as I could with every bit of free time I had, and I took any even remotely artistic jobs. If a neighbour wanted their walls painted, I’d do it for free and they’d let me keep any leftover paint afterwards. All of my money went towards buying canvases, sketchbooks, paint, brushes, even spray cans. Sometimes I’d even spray paint murals, though I think everyone else saw that as graffiti and vandalism rather than art.” You paused, and the two of you locked eyes again. He was listening intently, so you decided to continue on. “Anyway, as I got older I’d sell my paintings, but it didn’t provide enough money for me to live on, so I begged Zena, the old owner of the gallery, to give me a job here. I did small things at first, like sweeping floors and cleaning picture frames, but eventually I got to lead tours and meet with other artists. When she retired, she left the place to me, and here we are now.”

Thrawn paused for a few moments, as though he was fully taking in and understanding your words. “How fascinating. Do you still paint now?” Thrawn began to walk slowly towards the closest painting on display.

“Yes, whenever I have any inspiration or time.” You followed close behind, intently watching his focused stare on the painting in front of him.

He then turned back to you, and stopped just before the painting. “Is any on display? May I see it?” He questioned.

“No, it’s all in the back in our studio. Plus, I’ve never fought any kind of battle in my life, so I doubt you’re going to be able to observe any military tactics from my paintings.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Many do not realise exactly what their artwork can reveal about themselves or their culture as a whole. So, although you may have never fought before, I could look at your work and anticipate your possible movements and strategies if we were to engage in battle, whether that be in a ship or in hand to hand combat. I have demonstrated it in this particular way once previously with a friend.”

He noticed the slightly apprehensive look on your face, and smiled. “Of course, we do not have to fight. That would not be very typical behaviour on a date, would it?”

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #star wars #fanfic

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kiingocreative · 3 years

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The Structure of Story is now available! Check it out on Amazon, via the link in our bio, or at https://kiingo.co/book

There are some buzz words everywhere and, in the writing world, and it feels to me like ‘journaling’ is one of them. It’s something everyone seems to be doing.

It took me a while to build a journaling habit, and I wouldn’t say I’m quite there yet with my Journaling discipline, but whatever experience I’ve had with it has been incredibly beneficial.

What’s Journaling?

Back to the old trusted dictionary! Journaling is defined as:

To write in a journal or diary.

Simple, right?

For those of you with a penchant for etymology and random fun facts, the word ‘journal’ comes from the Latin ‘diurnalis’, or ‘diurnus’, meaning ‘daily’. In late Middle English, a journal originally referred to a book containing the appointed times of daily prayers. (If you use this as an ice-breaker at your next dinner party, please let me know!)

Nowadays, journaling is a lot more about keeping track of one’s praying schedule, and much more about recording one’s thoughts in an informal, free-flowing, stream-of-consciousness manner.

It’ll take different forms for different people, and the great thing about it is that (in my view) there isn’t a right or wrong way to journal. The only right way to do it is the way that feels right to you. As with any form of writing, craft or art in general, it’s all about individual preference, and highly subjective. And because Journaling is generally something that remains personal and private, you can do whatever the heck you want with it.

Pretty great, isn’t it?

Why Journaling is Good For You.

Based on my own experience, I’ve found a few benefits to journaling:

Pressure-free writing.

I’ve found that Journaling, because it follows no set rule and isn’t meant to be shared, is a great chance to write without any pressure. To write just because you want to write, with no other agenda than indulging in your love of putting words together on a page.

To me, writing without an outcome in mind is always liberating. It’s a chance to reconnect with your craft in way you might not if there was a clear purpose to it, like writing a book due to be published or a blog article meant to be posted online.

Experiment with your writing.

Journaling is also the perfect format to experiment with your writing, and try your hand at something new. Maybe you normally write fiction, and Journaling is a chance to give poetry a go. Maybe you generally blog, and your journal can start hosting plots and ideas for a novel, regardless of what you make of it later. Maybe you’ll want to try writing exercises—like jotting down ideas from a prompt or in a specific style. Or you could start recording dreams and memories you can remember.

Discomfort is where we grow, so putting yourself in those situations regularly is a great opportunity to expand your writing abilities and hone your skills. Who knows, there may be writing gold in there somewhere!

Never forget an idea.

I don’t know about you, but I often get ideas for my writing and beyond at the most inconvenient moments—in the shower, whilst cooking, doing the dishes, or picking up dog poop (I know, oh the glamour of a writer’s life!). I always think that I’ll remember these, but the truth is, most of them get forgotten, never to be retrieved again from the confines of my mind.

Journaling is a great way never to lose sight of an idea. My Journaling involves a lot of notes about random ideas I have for a plot, a story, a post, or life activities in general. They serve as inspiration for the future. Writing them down helps me rest assured that I can go back to that list and explore it later, whenever convenient.

Free your mind &notice trends.

One of the most important things I’ve notice happen when I journal, is that it helps me empty my mind fro ma lot of the never-ending thinking loops I tend to fall victim to. By putting thoughts down on paper, I’m able to see them more clearly, and my brain finally feels like it no longer needs to hold onto them. Jotting things down is a great way to break your pattern of thinking (or, if you’re like me, obsessing) and to allow yourself time to take a step back and look at the big picture.

Whether it’s something you’re stuck on in your writing, or in your life in general, journaling on it is powerful, especially if you do it regularly. Not only will you create more space in your mind for better and brighter things—say, your next brilliant writing idea!—but it’ll also give you a chance to notice trends and recurring themes. And that’s a great way to build awareness about your own patterns of behaviour, and start eradicating your most negative or toxic thinking habits.

Keep a record.

Performance coach Tony Robbins (yes, him again! What can I say, I’m a huge fan) says that ‘if your life is worth living it’s worth recording’. I couldn’t agree more. Journaling gives you a chance to be your own life historian. To keep track of where you’ve been and how far you’ve gone. To look back on those day-to-day accomplishments that may look minute at the time but all add up to something big and wonderful in the end.

Looking at your own existence and experience as something that’s worth keeping a record of also sends your subconscious mind a clear message: that’s you’re worthy. You’re enough. Every moment of your life has an impact, the good and the bad, and helps mould who you become.

I’d say there are few more powerful truths to embrace in your lifetime!

Getting Started with Journaling.

That’s all well and good, you might say, but where do I start?

Fear not, my friend, here are some suggestions to get you started.

1. Set a schedule — If you don’t make time for it, chances are it won’t happen, because life has a habit of getting in the way. Identify a time that works best for you—whether that’s morning, midday, evening etc.—and schedule it in your calendar, setting a reminder so you don’t forget about it. If finding time daily feels daunting or unrealistic, why not start with once a week, or a couple of times a week?

2. Make it a habit — Stick to it! Whether it comes naturally or not, be disciplined about it. Embrace whatever comes, both the joys and the discomfort of it. Set yourself a goal—every day for a week, every other day for a month etc.—and sit with it for the entire duration you committed to.

3. Set a timer — Journaling doesn’t have to take a lot of time. I tend to journal for about ten minutes at a time on average, sometimes less and sometimes more. If you’re unsure what duration to start with, set a timer for ten minutes and see what comes up.

4. Let it flow — As I mentioned above, Journaling may or may not feel natural at first. It may feel great or it may feel uncomfortable. Whatever comes up for you, let it flow. Why not journal about the sensations and feelings the experience of journaling brings up? It may end up being one thing one day and something altogether different the next. Whatever it is for you at any given time is what’s right. Be open-minded, remember this is unique and personal, and no one—not even you—should ever judge it.

The Power of Rituals.

If you’re still unsure about the value of journaling, or about getting started with it, let me say this one final thing: the most important piece of the puzzle, as with anything else you do, is defining your ‘why’—i.e. the reasons behind your decision to start (or continue) journaling. Ask yourself:

Why do you want to start journaling?

Why is it important to you?

How do you think it’ll make you feel? How do you want it to make you feel?

What difference do you think it’ll make to you, to your life, to your writing?

Clearly defining your ‘why’ and your intentions will help you maintain the habit. More importantly, understanding the value this holds to you will take journaling from a mere habit—which can feel like a chore—to a ritual of self-care. That’s the difference between doing it because you think it’s cool, or because everyone is doing it, or because you think you should do it, and doing it because you know for a fact, in your core, that this will make you and your writing better and stronger.

This will go a long way in making it more enjoyable. It’ll help you build rituals around it that are nurturing and caring. Get yourself to acknowledge why it’s good for you and why it’s pleasurable, and then set up the environment to make your journaling time feel like an absolute treat. Maybe that’s setting the scene in the room where you journal with a candle or some background music. Maybe that’s selecting a nice notebook if you’re doing this by hand, or picking your favourite writing spot, at home or beyond.

Eventually, these will all act as triggers to get you into the right journaling mindset whenever you’re sitting down for it.

And if you’re not quite sure what that all looks like for you… Well. Isn’t that a great topic to start journaling about?

#writingtips #screenwriting #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writers #writing #writerblr #writing advice #writing community #writing resources

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katyamorrigan · 3 years

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‘A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat’ - Chp. 1!

Gang banner by @verdiris

A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat

A trunk of contraband items ends up in the hands of the Crows, but the item that piques their curiosity most is the large box labelled “MONOPOLY”. Kaz is out of the Slat for the time being, so of course they decide to play it. Was there ever a mission more likely to fail than six criminals with lethal skills and undeniable emotional ties all trying to build a make-believe empire without killing each other in the process? Answer: yes - all of the above while attempting to pull off a heist at the same time.

Turns out board games weren’t the only interesting items shipped into Fifth Harbour that afternoon, and now the Razorgulls are interested. It will take all of the gang’s effort to break into two buildings full of rival gang members, regain possession of the contraband, and make it back to the Slat in one piece. And that’s without the inherent strains of playing at business negotiations with a group of decidedly underhand friends.

Join the Crows as they cheat, steal, lie, and bribe each other, all before the heist has even begun.

I am so excited to finally get to share the fic that I have been working on for the @grishaversebigbang over the last few months - A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat! Getting to take part in the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 has been so much fun, and I have had the honour of working with an absolutely incredible gang of artists and the loveliest beta reader. It’s been an absolute blast, and this is one of my favourite things that I’ve written. Thank you so much to everyone that I’ve worked with, and I hope that you enjoy reading and admiring the story and art that we’ve created!

Here is everyone in my gang, with links to the work that they’ve created (some art may relate to chapters of the fic that haven’t been posted yet - the fic will be posted in its entirety within the next 3 weeks and the art will be linked within the fic on the relevant lines, but also there’s nothing that will spoil the story for you, so don’t worry!):

Corporalki: @davonysus (who is the most wonderful beta reader, thank you for everything that you contributed to this story!)

Materialki:

@ciph3rrr with hilarious Crows-minus-Kaz Monopoly shenanigans from Chapter 1

@j-wirth with this brilliant Inej and Wesper moment inspired by Chapters 2 and 7

@bloodysusher with a gorgeous group moment in Chapter 7

@verdiris with some amusing Kaz geniusness from Chapter 7

@maximumbluebirdpatrol (link still to come)

@emmaxtw (link still to come)

There are 7 chapters in total, so I shall be uploading a new one every Tuesday and Saturday until 25th September. Look below the cut for an excerpt from Chapter 1, and if you want to read the full thing (and check out the collection of all the other incredible pieces created for the GVBB) then click either of the links. I hope that you enjoy!

AHOTBIWTOTG Chapter 1 Excerpt:

The front door of the Slat opened with a loud clatter, and slammed shut on itself seconds later. It made Inej jump in her seat as she sat going over ship documentation - which, as it turned out, there was a lot of - in the front room. Nina gave her a look, and Inej wrinkled her nose back at her; the Wraith didn’t startle easily, but equally, there was usually less banging of doors while she tried to organise her finances.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Came Jesper’s voice. “And I brought treats!”

“It had better be more exciting than that time you came back from Cilla’s Fry with meat pies,” Inej called back. “That was underwhelming.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nina chimed in. “I was more than happy to finish up those.”

“We know.” Matthias gave her a knowing look, and Wylan sniggered as she raised a single finger at him in response.

The bickering that came from everyone trying to work on separate projects at the same time was one of the many reasons that Inej hadn’t made it past the first page of her sailing license. That being said, she joined in the chuckling at Nina’s expense.

“Oh, it’s definitely better than Cilla’s pies, but you’ll have to take a look for yourself.”

Jesper rounded the corner, a large trunk tucked under one slim arm. His face was bright from the brisk, cold air of the streets, and a bead of sweat dropped from his chin as he deposited the luggage on the table beside Inej. She sighed heavily as the wad of pages in front of her jumped with the sudden extra weight.

“Sorry,” Jesper grinned. She just rolled her eyes fondly in response.“Come on, who wants to see what I’ve got?”

Nina, Matthias and Wylan all got up from the neighbouring table and crowded around Inej and Jesper. It was uncomfortable having so many significantly taller people stood behind her while she was sitting, so Inej scooped up her papers and deposited them on the floor, taking their place on the table so that she could get a good look at the trunk.

“Where did you get that?” Matthias asked.

“Well, our dearest Kaz decided to put me on shipment duty and I had to wait around at the Exchange for a boat full of contraband to come in. It took hours, so as soon as I saw something that looked interesting, I used my innumerable skills to swipe it so that we could take a look inside.”

““Innumerable” is a long word for you,” Nina quipped.

A bubble of laughter rose up amongst the group, and Jesper stuck his tongue out childishly. “Fine, no contraband for you.”

“No, I want to look!”

“Be nice, then. I get first dibs on anything cool because I found it.”

Matthias snorted. “What happened to the ancient rule of “finder’s keepers”?”

“I found the trunk, therefore I found anything that’s inside it by proxy.”

“Can we just open it up?” Wylan said impatiently. “I feel like we’re building expectations by arguing like this – it’s probably smuggled whiskey or something.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Kaz?” Inej asked. The others gave her a look of incredulity. “Where is he, anyway?”

There was a brief moment of looking at each other for answers, before Jesper answered decisively. “If he was so worried about what came in on the boat, he would’ve gone himself. And if he isn’t here now, then he’ll just have to accept whatever is left over from the spoils.”

“We aren’t actually pirates, you know,” Inej said.

“Not yet,” Jesper stage-whispered in reply, and Inej found herself grinning, pleased. “Gather around, then.” He beckoned everyone closer like a ringmaster at the centre of a performance.

Inej was surprised to find that her heart was actually beating faster with the thought of what might be inside. Wylan was probably right that they were getting themselves worked up over nothing, but all the same, she couldn’t help hoping that they found something rare or exciting. Perhaps it was gold? Guns? Something dangerous? You could never know when it came to the imports of Ketterdam, and for once Inej was glad for the intensity of life in the city. It could very well be something extraordinary.

The catches on the front of the trunk lifted easily, but there was a thick knot of string around the middle as well. Jesper struggled to untie it, so Inej slipped a knife from her sleeve and cut it off with one flick of her wrist. Giving her a mischievous look, Jesper dug his fingernails under the lid and with a crackle of flaking rust, the trunk opened.

On top there was a loose gauzy scarf clearly intended to keep moisture out of the trunk on the long sea voyage, which had definitely served its purpose; the red print had blotted itself onto the inside of the lid, and there were water stains on it where it had protected the rest of the cargo. Matthias and Nina went to grab it at the same time, but it ended up in Nina’s hands regardless as he passed it to her with a shy smile.

“I thought you would want it, so I was making sure no-one else got there first.”

Wylan made an exaggerated gagging noise, and Matthias’ expression quickly reverted to his familiar scowl.

“Aha!”

Jesper reached forward and pulled out two pistols, both only a little rusty and with a single blue gem stamped into the body of each. With impressive speed he turned around and mimed firing two shots at the wall before holstering them beside his favoured revolvers.

As Matthias pulled out a slim soft-covered book, Inej realised that she was far too focused on the discoveries of her friends and was going to miss out on finding her own treasures otherwise. Lifting up two more scarves – this time green and blue – she found another couple of books which she handed to Nina. Her friend’s focus was pulled away from adjusting her hair under her newly matching scarf to flicking through the pages and wrinkling her nose hard.

“I don’t recognise the language, but I can understand it well enough,” Nina mused.

“Where did the boat come in from, Jesper?” Wylan asked as he opened a small wooden keepsake box full of golden rings in varying levels of ornate decoration.

“Kaz didn’t say, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t pay much attention.”

Nina tutted and continued her reading with Matthias peering over her shoulder. With fingers now covered in rings, Wylan pulled out a long fur coat that smelt of mould. Removing its furry cuffs from the case, Inej reached into the trunk for what seemed to be the last item: a big box made of thick card, with a green cover and the word MONOPOLY emblazoned on the top. The lettering was incredibly clear, but it didn’t look as though it had been done by hand or with a printing press. It had an odd shiny feel to the outside as well, like it had been coated in order to keep out the damp.

Inej sat it on the table and lifted the lid. It came off easily, and revealed a large square of that same thick card in bright red that unfolded into a larger board with regular markings on it.

“What in the Saints’ names is that?” Nina remarked, putting down her reading material.

“I have no idea. It was at the bottom of the trunk.”

“Is it a map?” Wylan suggested.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Inej murmured as she put the board down and looked at what was left in the box.

Underneath that map-like object was a tray divided into several compartments, with little silver tokens collected in one, some colourful playing cards of an unknown variety in another, and some appealing little houses done in an unusual material in both green and red. Beside those lay a rack of what looked like currency, in the same shape and thickness as notes of kruge. Jesper immediately started rifling through it all, mixing up the various collections and inspecting them all with irregular attention. Although Wylan slapped his hand away with a tut, it clearly wasn’t out of lack of interest.

“What is it?” Nina asked again. Taking the board in her hands, she began to stumble through the words written on it.

“Collect 200… something, looks like it could be a currency symbol because it says “salary” after that, as you pass GO... Old Kent Road, another amount of money… sixty? Community chest, Whitechapel Road, same amount of money as the other square…”

As she turned it over in her hands, a slim white booklet fell out onto the table. Inej started forward and managed to snatch it up before anyone else did, although the gesture was useless as she immediately handed it to Nina, who skimmed over the first few lines and let out a delighted noise.

“It’s a game! A board game! Seems like you play by going around the board which has place names marked out on it, and you buy up the land so that you can build houses on it. And you compete to earn the most money.”

“Who’s sending weird foreign board games to Ketterdam?” Wylan said incredulously. “Are you sure it’s not got something contraband hidden in there somehow?”

Inej laughed. “Does a game based on financial gain not strike you as the most Kerch thing in the world? I can well believe a mercher bought this to educate their children on the fun of working under Ghezen.”

Wylan cracked a grin at that, and Nina snorted. She pushed the box towards him.

“Take a look if you want.”

He lifted up the tray of items and ran his fingers along the underside, then looked inside each of the little model houses as if there might be gemstones wedged in the base like on Jesper’s guns. Wylan tapped along the top of the board, but there were no hidden compartments or secret openings. It seemed as though they had genuinely come across some kind of entertainment from another country.

“Shall we play it?” Jesper said with a broad grin at everyone. “We’ve got nothing else on, have we?”

“I’m meant to have applied for my sailing license by the end of next week,” Inej said weakly, but she wasn’t much interested in her own excuse. This bizarre-looking game they had stolen by chance had already caught her attention far more than boat permits and crew-hiring documents.

“I’m happy to,” Matthias said, and Nina and Wylan nodded fervently as well.

“Perfect! Let’s not disturb everyone’s things down here, we can take it into another room.”

“Nobody’s bedrooms are big enough,” Nina complained. “Kaz is too cheap to give us enough space to actually enjoy our stay at The House of Brekker.”

“His bedroom is, though.”

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sunset-curve-fantom · 3 years

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Unsaid Emily- Luke x Reader

Luke Patterson was one of the most genuine, funny, musical people you had ever met, except he was a ghost. His buddies and him were killed by tainted hotdogs in the ‘90s and now, now they were making their comeback in 2020 with the help of Julie and yourself.

When Luke left this world, he left his parents behind with an uncertainty of how their child lived in his final moments. They had been fighting at the time, so there had not been much communication between them for some time. They hated the direction their 17-year-old was heading, and instead of being understanding, they made Luke was feel trapped, like they were trying to change his greatest love in life, his band and more importantly his music.

You had been blissfully unaware of how much Luke was truly hurting until his birthday, which happened to be today because there he was sitting on his parent’s counter, hot tears running down his face. Your heart broke seeing him so upset, you never realized how much Luke was really hiding behind his façade. He was trying to make up for the life he never got to live, they never saw him play or get married, to grow old. He lived a life that was cut abruptly short, and he would never forgive himself for walking out that night.

The more Reggie and Alex talked about the past, the more you realized that Luke spent a lot of time at their house. Like he was trying to make new memories with his parents who could never see him in the way you do. In their eyes, he was gone but in yours he could never be more alive.

So here you were, waiting for Luke to return to garage. You asked Julie and the boys to let you talk to him alone, the bond you had was something special and you felt he would open up to you more. Focusing on the book in front of you, it felt like you had been waiting forever. You knew he it was his birthday so he would be gone for most of it, so you just had to play the waiting game.

No sooner did you finish the last page of your chapter, did Luke poof into the chair next to you. You could see that his eyes were puffy, and his face was red from all the crying. You knew he was hurting but you did not know how to even approach him. He seemed shocked to see you sitting there by yourself, usually you were off with Julie or the boys.

He shifted in his seat trying to hide his sniffles, “Hey Y/n, I wasn’t expecting you to be here”

“Well… I thought we could talk. I just noticed you’ve been kind of distant and I wanted to make sure you were okay” you said honestly, you truly just wanted to make sure he was okay, or more so check to make sure he would be okay eventually.

He just sighed at me, trying to avoid my statement, it was clear he didn’t want me to be involved with his pain. He would rather keep it to himself than burden someone else with his problems from beyond the grave.

“Luke, please. I just want to help…” you said again, trying to get him to open up. He couldn’t get this all pinned up inside of him, eventually he was going to explode, and it was going to be fatal for everyone involved.

He was avoiding your eyes, afraid of opening the flood gates and not being able to close them again, he had been crying for days and he didn’t want to cry in front of you.

“I really just don’t want to talk about it, please just drop it”

“Luke… I know… I know it is your birthday, I know where you have been all day… so please don’t lie to me” you said, sitting on the coffee table in front of his chair, you could see his eyes rolling.

“Seriously. You and Julie preach about boundaries and you stalked me. Really y/n?” He said, the anger clear in his voice, so you did the one thing you could think of. You reached out to him, and surprisingly your hand rested on his knee instead of going through him.

The look of shock mirroring on his face as he placed his large hand onto yours. It was a sense of comfort, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“Luke… I know I didn’t… I mean I know I shouldn’t have spied on you. But I am worried about you, I know it’s your birthday and you spent most of your day at yours parents. I can’t even begin to imagine how you are feeling, but I am here for you, every step of the way. I know it doesn’t mean much but- “Luke cut you off.

“It actually means more than you could ever know. I never talked to the boys about my parents, so it is nice to have someone who knows. My parents… when I left this world I left on bad terms. I was doing something that they didn’t want me to do. They wanted me to finish school, get married, basically have a life worth living. But I was so focused on my music and the band, that I walked out. I walked out and that is the last memory they have of me. I walked out that door and I never came home…” He was choking back his tears; you only gripped his hand tighter. You just wanted to take away this pain, so you just stood up wrapping your arms around him.

You could feel his tears on your shirt, you pulled back wiping more of them away with your thumbs. He caught your gaze, “Please… don’t tell the boys. I don’t need any more pity”

You felt a frown appear on your face, “Luke, I don’t pity you. I know how hard it is to lose someone, and I just want to be here for you. Did you ever show your parents your music, or write anything for them?”

He pulled away from you, so you just sat back down on the coffee table. “Whatever I wrote for them, it would never matter. My music was nothing to them, it was always the one thing that drove me away. They regretted buying me that guitar the moment I started playing. They lost me, and they will never forgive themselves no matter what.”

You couldn’t help but feel tears pool in your eyes as well, you wanted nothing more than to take back the past, to give your life for his, for a moment to make up with his parents.

“I wrote one song; it was for my mom. It was right after I ran away, and it was everything I didn’t know how to say to her. But now, she will never hear everything I wanted to say, she was so important, and I just left her there”

You processed his words, you knew exactly what song it was and tomorrow you were going to give that piece of art to his mom, and hopefully it would heal some of the open wounds in her heart. You hand already made up your mind about that.

*Next day*

You woke up early, before heading across town. You knew if you waited later in the day, that you would change your mind about this. You knew Luke would be mad, but you felt he needed this to heal, and so did his mom.

You quietly pulled into the Patterson’s driveway, trying to keep your nerves under wraps. You shut the car door and made your way up the drive. You were almost to the front door when Luke poofed in front of you. The look he gave you was not exactly good…

“What- why are you here??” he questioned; you could barely look into his eyes. You knew he would be angry when he found out your reasoning.

“I wanted to help- so I brought Unsaid Emily with me for your mom. I think she deserves to hear everything you couldn’t say to her. You can be mad at me, but I need to do this for you and for her” You said with confidence before rigging the doorbell, Luke just scowled at you. He was going to give you an earful later.

Moments later the door opened, and there stood a man. He was older from some of the pictures you had seen, but he was Luke’s dad, and you knew that.

“Hi, may I help you?” He spoke softly

“Yes, Hi. My name is Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n. My friend lives in the house where Sunset Curve used to practice, and I found something that you might want.” You said, feeling the hot tears pool in your eyes as you saw him suck in a deep breath.

He stepped aside letting you in, Luke followed in behind you.

You picked up a photo on the table, “Is this your son? Luke, right?”

He nodded before talking, “He was about 2-years-old in that photo. He was definitely a light in our life” A small smile fell onto your lips; he was the light of your life now. Even in death, he was the most perfect, and incredible person you had ever met.

Before you could speak again, you saw Luke’s mom come into the room, “Hi honey, did I hear the bell ring” she just offered you a small smile.

“Yes, this is Y/n and her friend lives in the house where the band used to rehearse. She brought something for us” He said to his wife, who looked at you with wide eyes.

“I assume you must be Emily?” You asked, sending Luke a look across the room. You could tell he was holding in a breath.

She nodded, before you continued, “I was cleaning out the garage and I found this song. It is called “Unsaid Emily”, I could happily sing it for you… if that’s okay?”

“Uh- could you maybe wait a moment, I have something you’ll need” Luke’s dad said, before retreating out of the room. He quickly returned with a guitar in hand.

“it was a birthday present for Luke, we never got to give it to him. It would be wonderful if you could play it for us… if you can play?” His dad said, handing you the fresh guitar. You caught Luke’s gaze across the room, he was in shock. He always thought they hated his music.

Taking a deep breath, you sat down in front of them with Luke’s lyrics in front of you. It took you a few minutes to tune the guitar before you began singing,

First things first

We start the scene in reverse

All of the lines rehearsed

Disappeared from my mind

When things got loud

One of us running out

I should have turned around

But I had too much pride

It was like as soon as the song started, it had come to an end. You could swear you could hear Luke still singing the song, like he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“You have no idea what you have given us…” Luke’s mom said, playing her hand on yours. You just grabbed it tightly.

“I can say, I write my music in the same place he did. It is a beautiful place full of happiness. I just thought you would want to know that. He lived doing the one thing he loved the most, and that inspires me everyday” You said, pushing the guitar back in their direction.

His dad just shook his head, “Keep it, I think Luke would want you to have it. And please, come back. It is great to hear his music inspired someone, especially someone so gifted”

You were shocked, this was an incredible gift, especially from Luke’s parents of all people.

“I could not thank you enough, I promise I will be back soon… I will try to find more things of Luke’s” you said, gently hugging his parents before heading out the door. You gripped the guitar close to your heart, it was an incredible gift.

You got in your car, and there was Luke. You could see the tear stains on his cheek, you intertwined your hand with his.

“I cannot thank you enough for what you just did… You gave them back a hope, a happiness in their life…” He said, choking back more tears.

“Luke, I did this for you… Don’t thank me. I just needed to do something… I wanted to bring you closure as well. You don’t know how much I care about you Luke.” You said, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.

His head whipped in your direction, “Of course I do, your dork. I know how much you care because I feel the same way about you. This is definitely something interesting we have. And I may be dead, but I am not dumb.”

You just laughed at his remark, Luke was always going to be the one who held your heart. He was the one who made your world spin in ways no one has. Luke was your one in a million, and he was going to be that until the end of time.

#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson smut #reggie #reggie x reader #reggie julie and the phantoms #alex #alex x reader #alex julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie x reader

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genaleah · 3 years

Text

ANSWERING WILDCARD QUESTIONS

For the first time in about a year maybe??? Some of these might be even older than that.

Yes, it is Korka! I definitely want her involved, she’s a wonderful character and there is a *lot* of fun paranormal stuff going on in this setting that she can help them research. Also, I’d just love for her and Nelson to become friends!

Thank you! I love him a lot, and it’s fun to picture him interacting with the other guys. They’d all make for some interesting uncle figures, but they might not be that great in terms of role models.

OHOHO. Devilish laugh. That’s a wonderful idea, and a good way to keep him occupied at some point. He’s a great character, but he’s incredibly powerful, and I want these dudes to solve their own problems whenever possible.

A good question! I don’t remember most of my dreams, but there’s usually a consistent look to the vivid ones. Lots of water, mountains, creeks, and high, winding roads. There are also a lot of buildings that are closely integrated with nature, even though I have almost never seen construction like that.

I had not, but now I have! Here’s a trailer, for anyone else that missed it:

https://youtu.be/33HXHaaagsw

I really like these new models! I’m looking forward to watching a playthrough when that’s available. Just like with Rhombus of Ruin, I don’t think I’ll be able to play this one myself.

DOUBLE FINE, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU- no, I’m kidding! I think great minds think alike. But I’m really excited to learn more about that character and possibly involve them in this whole au eventually.

I’ve actually tried to avoid almost any info about Psychonauts 2 so I can go in mostly-blind, and a lot of the characters are vague to me. It’s fun to look forward to, but it’s also a little harrowing because I don’t know how to anticipate for it!

N...NO..... I NEED TO... Honestly those are old enough that it might be a good idea for me to re-make them, as well as the playing cards I made for the mega playlist cover. I think it’d be nice to remake them as vectors... that might make for a nice art stream sometime. I’ll mention publicly if I start doing that, and sharing any of these conceptual Wildcards arts when they’re done.

And if you’re just curious about what the tarot cards for the other characters are going to be, it’s this:

Eddie: Judgement, The Magician, The Emperor

Manny: Death, Justice, The World

Sam: The Chariot, The Tower, Strength

Max: The Devil, Wheel of Fortune, Joker

Although! I may actually give the Moon card to Max instead of the Devil, and replace the missing card from Nelson’s selection with the High Priestess? 🤔 I’ll decide when I get to it.

Could be! I’ve flip-flopped occasionally on if I want the split-a-cab gang to participate much in the story. I think they deserve a break, and splitting an apartment in New York seems like a good situation for the four of them.

Oh boy, that must be so disorienting for him. The Psychonauts deal with a lot of hippy-dippy weirdness in a seemingly organized way, but it seems like they’re not as paranoid about safety as a real federal organization would be. Not necessarily a good thing, considering one of their camp counselors went AWOL one day, and the head of the Psychonauts got kidnapped the next. They kinda need to get their act together.

Fun fact, in one of the earlier drafts of Chapter 3 I was actually going to make Nelson get scanned by the equivalent of a metal-detector for malevolent thoughts at the door and get really spooked by it, but I decided against it.

YEAH IT’S ON THE LIST

Honestly, a big bulk of the plot in this just regards characters having to face their mental health struggles... via facing it as literal internal demons, unstable powers, etc. It’s going to take a little while for any of Eddie’s teammates to realize how MUCH he has going on under the surface because he does a pretty good job of hiding it. “Needing to help others above ever helping themselves” is a hard issue to notice if you’re not looking for it. But it’s a guarantee that once they find out he needs help, they’ll give it; whether that’s making sure he’s not working himself too hard, or fighting off demonic cultists. Care comes in many forms.

SHE NEEDS TO REST.... POOR SYBIL (on the upside, they don’t TECHNICALLY work there, so she might be fine most of the time.)

Strong Bad isn’t a Psychonaut! He’s just a vlogger and a petty (psychic) criminal. It’s honestly not very different from canon.

Free Country, USA is a smalltown hotbed of psychic activity. Nearly everyone there has some mild capacity for supernatural powers, but nobody really notices or cares. Strong Bad just pops the tops off of cold ones and.... sometimes alters reality, a tiny bit. But mostly just in regards to media. The cartoons, comics, etc, that he invents and talks about have a tendency to suddenly voip into existence and nobody knows how. I swear, there’s actually a line of him saying something to this effect, but I can’t find it anywhere. Don’t worry about it! Nobody in town is ever going to do anything truly nefarious with their powers, so it’s not a high priority on the Psychonauts’ radar, just a weird footnote.

The only reason Homestar is an actual agent is because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to sign up for a job like that on accident and then stick with it. And he’s a talented telekinetic! None of his other friends know about his job or notice his absences.

And just for fun, here’s some weird instances of psychic overpowering that happened in the cartoon:

---

(Poor Strong Sad)

I’ve actually answered this one before! BAM Pretty sure all of it is still accurate.

Nelson: He sees floating sheets of paper containing notes, questions, etc. Anything that he wants to know more about regarding that person. The notes are subject to edits, cross-outs, ripped pages, etc.

Guybrush: He sees the item that the person is carrying that he wants most. As he gets to know people better, he sees them for their useful skills first.

Manny: His view of most living people is not very kind...

The people he’s closest to will eventually look a lot less garish. More like a flattering, camera-ready versions of themselves.

Eddie: Sickass sketch drawings that look like they belong in the margins of a composition book. The illustrations improve as he gets a better picture of where they’d fit in the internal lore of his mental world.

Sam: A lot like Nelson; Sam pictures case files, though his are a bit more in-depth.

Max: Max’s visions of people are highly personal and uncomfortable for those who witness them. He sees Nelson as a puzzle with a piece missing. Guybrush is a ripped up voodoo doll. Manny is a forgotten ofrenda. Eddie is a powder keg with a long, lit fuse. Sam is Sam, but he’s the wrong one.

I also got two questions that were pretty big subjects, or that I didn’t want to repeat, so I’m gonna cover them pretty broadly:

REGARDING [X] CHARACTER OR SERIES INCLUDED IN THE AU

Sure, I support it! I’ve gotten this question a few times in regards to things that I haven’t had time to delve into yet, or I’m not interested in, so I’m not going to include it into the AU myself. But if you want to explore an idea like that, feel free! This AU is pretty dang collaborative.

My main focus is just on the main 6 properties: Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max.

But my general rule of thumb for “characters that exist somewhere within the background of this story” are any other properties owned by Telltale, Lucasarts, or Double Fine. And considering all of the licensed games that Telltale was getting into before it kicked the bucket, that includes some really weird characters, even up to the Venture Bros. I loved that series, but I’m not really interested in doing anything with them for this story! Partly for my sanity, the canon I’ve picked are already a lot of content to play with.

ASSORTED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE WILDCARD AU DISCORD

There’s no particular criteria needed to join the discord, and it’s not strictly on a need-to-know basis! Because it’s been a long while since anyone has joined, I've been hesitant about adding new people in... But I‘ve decided to try sending invitations again! Everyone who had asked about it in the past will be getting a ping by me in about a day or so, since I want to double-check if you’re still interested. If you’ve been nervous to ask you can reply to this post or message me privately.

Some things to keep in mind before asking or accepting the invite:

If you’re not a friend or a follower I recognize, I will likely double-check your tumblr along with some other current members before sending the invite.

Here’s the Rules page, so you know what to expect before you join:

Be Mindful - Respect other people's boundaries, don't do or say things that would cross the line. If your behavior makes other people feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I will remove you from the chat. In most cases I will try to resolve things with you and offer a chance to do better, but that will depend on the severity of the situation. And if you have any concerns regarding another member of the chat, you can contact me privately.

Health Boundaries - While discussions of mental health do occasionally pop up, do not rely on the chat for help. None of us are equipped to handle serious mental health concerns, and it will only cause distress for everyone. Please seek real help if it is needed! If you rely on people beyond the point that they have asked you to stop, I will remove you from the chat.

NSFW - Generally speaking, try to keep NSFW talk to a minimum. Swearing and humor is fine, but don't get too explicit please! Discussions should usually keep to a PG-13 / occasional R, but no NC-17.

Spoilers & Censorship - Please use the spoiler function to hide story spoilers, as well as discussions and graphic depictions of gore/excessive blood/body horror/severe psychological horror. Include a content warning so that people know what they could potentially be seeing when they click on the censored content. If the spoilered content is the subject of a back-and-forth discussion, please use another warning when you are switching to a different spoilered topic. (Note that these rules were added to the chat later, so be careful when using the search function or back reading.)

The canon series involved with the Wildcard AU are Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max. Please be mindful of story spoilers!

Channel Organization - Also be mindful of which channel you're in and move a discussion over if need be! That way they don't get too clogged with unrelated info.

Creative Criticism - When it comes to writing, art, or character creation; try to be open to suggestions from others! Nearly all of the creative work in the chat is collaborative, so input from others is important! Creative criticism is not the same as judgement, and is not a personal attack.

Have fun! - Discussions move quickly in this chat! Don't feel bad if you ever need to step back, whether it's because of the speed or a disinterest in whatever current topic we're focusing on. If you ever want to come back, we're happy to have you and can give quick explanations if you feel out of the loop! :thumbsup:

We’re a group of approx. a half dozen to a dozen people, either posting very very quickly in a span of a few hours or barely anything for a few days. We’ve been in an activity uptick lately and there’s about a year and half of back content, too. If it’s hard to keep up on, not that interesting to read through, or you just have a hard time gelling with the group that's already there, there’s no shame in just lurking or dipping out if you need to.

We also talk a lot about Psychonauts OCs, so anticipate that.

#wildcard au #wildcard hcs

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vxlkyrie · 4 years

Text

letters to you

pairing: spencer reid x reader

genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers!au

warning: cursing, mentions of alcohol

word count: 7.0k

summary: uh oh, spencer wasn’t supposed to see those

a/n: maeve didn’t die nor have a stalker and we stan her and anderson in this household. also i broke my own heart writing this :) enjoy! (also i hate that some of the text isn’t italicized on mobile i want to cry)

“hey y/n, whatchu writing in your diary?” derek smirked as walked through the office.

“none of your business. and it’s not a diary, it’s a journal.” you rolled your eyes as you continued writing.

“and what do you write in your so-called journal?”

“whatever i want. usually thoughts i have when i’m finished with a case.” you shrugged.

“so basically a diary,” he laughed, leaning on your desk. “can i see what you’ve been writing?” he tried to lean over your notebook. your eyes widened.

“no!” you shouted as you slammed your notebook shut, making derek jump up a little. “s-sorry morgan. it’s just that it’s very personal.”

“don’t worry about it. i understand.” he smiled at you, kissing your forehead before going back to his desk.

it’s true that you use your journal to write down your feelings. you weren’t that open on talking about your feelings, so you took an unused notebook and filled up the pages with your rants, whether it was about stressing over a case or having to deal with your bitchy landlord. but you also use that journal to write down your feelings towards a certain boy genius (who actually suggested that you should write down your thoughts in a journal).

you weren’t sure when you started seeing spencer, your best friend, in a different light. maybe it was when he would bring you coffee and a muffin practically everyday. maybe it was when you started to find his fact dumps endearing. maybe it’s when he would cuddle you when you two would have movie nights together.

whatever the exact moment was that made you fall in love with him, you weren’t ready to tell him about your feelings. so, shortly after starting your notebook, you started writing down “love letters” that were addressed to him. you found yourself writing out confessions, moments where you found spencer being adorable, even dates you would have if you two were together (all the cheesy stuff).

dear spencer,

i love you – as more than just a friend.

yes, you are my best friend. you are always there for me when i need someone to get me energized when i didn’t get enough sleep the night before. you are always there for me when i need to tell someone about a shitty date. you are always there for me when i just need a hug after finishing a week-long case. and before i knew it, i found myself falling in love with you.

i wish that i can just tell you how i feel in person, but you know that i’m not that good with expressing my feelings verbally, so i decided to write them down instead. even then, this page isn’t enough to explain what i love about you and how much i love you.

love, y/n

dear spencer,

there are so many times where i just find you cute.

your eyes lighting up after you found out that doctor who is being renewed for another season. your smile after everyone complimented your new haircut. even your little dance after i bought you half a dozen of your favorite donuts.

i could go on forever and list every moment i have found you adorable. my heart starts beating faster just by the sight of seeing you be happy. i know you’ve been through a lot, and you deserve happiness. i hope that someday i can give you that.

love, y/n

dear spencer,

i might not be the most romantic person, but i can’t help but daydream about the cute and cheesy dates we would have.

we could go to the aquarium and you can tell me everything you know about every creature we see. we could visit the art museum and we could point out the small details in each piece. we could even go to the smithsonian!

but we could also go on small cafe dates. maybe go to the bookstore and you could recommend me your favorites (i’ve been trying to read more). we could even just have a night in and have dinner and cuddle while we watch true crime shows and point out their mistakes and make our own profiles.

now that i think about, being with you would be the same as we are now, just with handholding and kissing.

love, y/n

did writing them down help with your feelings? yes.

were you ever going to send him those letters? absolutely fucking not.

“hey y/n!” a voice called. you looked up to see spencer smiling at you from his desk.

“hey spence, what’s up?”

“i’m almost done with my paperwork, wanna grab dinner after? i’m buying.” he asked. your eyes lit up.

“yeah, sure!” you smiled back.

“great! just give me like 15 more minutes.” he said. you nodded, finishing the last file before handing it in to hotch.

“oh my god, this food is amazing!” you exclaimed, taking a bite of your dish as spencer chuckled at you. “have some.” you gestured at your food. spencer smiled at you as he grabbed a fork full and placed it in his mouth.

“wow, that is delicious.” he nodded in approval.

“i know right!” you smiled.

“anyways, there’s something i wanted to tell you, y/n.” spencer said. your eyes immediately widened.

does he like me and he’s finally going to confess?

does he know that i like him and he’s trying to let me down easily?

or is it something completely unrelated?

your heart raced as millions of scenarios that could possibly happen at this moment played in your head.

“of course. you know you can tell me anything.” you reassured, grinning at him.

“i know,” he grinned back. “you know that one girl, maeve?”

“that geneticist you’ve been talking to for your migraines? yeah, what about her?” you raised an eyebrow.

“i finally had the guts to ask her out – and she said yes!” he smiled.

oh.

you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. you wanted to just get up and run and never talk to him again, but you couldn’t. you knew that he deserved to be happy – even if it wasn’t with you.

“you didn’t tell me you like her!” you happily exclaimed, putting on a facade.

“i’m sorry! we were so caught up with work and i didn’t even know if her and i would even work out. and if morgan ever found out, he wouldn’t let me hear the end of it.” spencer rambled on.

“is that why you’ve been acting weird and leaving at the most random times?” you raised a teasing eyebrow at him.

“so if our unsub killed our victims here, here, and here,” spencer said as he dotted the map on the board with a marker. “then he could live anywhere around here” he finished as he draw a circle that connected the dots.

“do you think he would live in the middle?” you asked.

before he could answer, spencer’s phone suddenly started ringing, causing the tall man to reach into his pocket to check who was calling. you peeked over to see a random number display across his screen.

“excuse me.” he said as he quickly left the room.

that’s weird. he never answers calls if it’s not from anyone on the team.

“what’s that about?” emily asked. you shrugged in response.

a few minutes later, spencer returned to the room with a big smile on his face.

“who called?” you asked him. spencer had a panicked look on his face shortly before he switched to a more calm manner.

“oh, my mom.” he lied, which no one seemed to notice.

“yeah,” he shyly nodded. “i’ve been calling her for the past few weeks.”

“that’s great spence! i’m so happy for you!” you smiled widely.

“thank you, y/n. it really means a lot coming from you.” he said, gently grabbing your hand.

please don’t do that. please don’t break my heart into even more pieces.

you slowly pulled your hand away from him, earning a slightly confused expression from spencer.

“so, tell me more about maeve.” you said, making sure he can’t read through you.

“well...”

spencer continued talking as you silently listened and ate the rest of your food (although your appetite has been ruined), talking about maeve’s incredible work in her field and her favorite books. you tried your best to keep your happiest expression on as you hear your best friend (and crush) gush over someone else.

wow, she’s perfect for him.

“she sounds amazing, spence.” you tried your best to smile at him.

as soon as you got back to your place, you finally let the tears flow out of your eyes , sliding down your front door. your body trembled as loud sobs left your mouth, even the hand that was placed over it couldn’t muffle the sounds of your cries and breaking heart.

when you find yourself calming down, you walked into your room and changed into your pajamas as you tried to catch your breath. you unpacked your work bag at your desk. as soon as you took out your journal, you immediately turned to the pages that contained your unsent confessions.

of course he doesn’t like you, stupid. he never did.

you ripped the letters from the spine of your notebook and threw them onto your desk. ignoring the mess you just created, you walked to your bed to get some shut-eye as you let more tears run down your face.

you couldn’t let yourself be sad anymore. you had to walk back into work the next day with a smile on your face, making sure none of your coworkers could tell that you were breaking. you let yourself get distracted with cases and paperwork, and even continued talking to spencer like you normally would (because he would definitely notice something was up if you had suddenly stopped). over the next few weeks, you find yourself actually befriending maeve.

“hey spence!” an unfamiliar, yet honey-like voiced called out, causing everyone to turn away from their work. you looked up to see a woman with dark auburn hair carrying a brown paper bag as she walked towards spencer’s desk.

wow, she’s really pretty.

“hey, maeve.” he smiled, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“spencer, how come you didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend?” derek smirked at him.

“we just started dating. everyone, this is maeve.” spencer introduced to the team. everyone said their quick hello’s while you got up from your seat and walked up to the couple.

“so you’re the girl my best friend has been talking to,” you genuinely smiled at her. “hi, i’m y/n.” you said, offering your hand to her.

“it’s nice to meet you! i’ve heard so much about you!” she smiled back at you as she reached out to shake your hand. you raised your eyebrows in surprise.

fuck, and she’s really nice too.

sometimes, maeve would come visit the bau and eat lunch with you and spencer.

“on my way here, i saw that this one clothing store was having a sale.” maeve said as she took a bite out of her lunch.

“oh i saw that!” you exclaimed. “i heard that they were closing, so they decided to have a huge sale. it’s sad to see them go.”

“we should stop by sometime! i think i saw a really cute dress that i wanted to try out.” maeve suggested to you.

honestly, you didn’t feel like a third wheel. it actually feels good to be getting along with spencer’s girlfriend.

“that sounds like fun.” spencer chirped.

“shhh, babe, the girls are talking,” maeve joked as he pouted, causing you to laugh. “i’m kidding! you can come along if you want.” she grabbed his hand as he gave her literal heart eyes.

you felt your heart sting a little.

you would talk to maeve when spencer would bring her over to a family dinner at rossi’s.

“he did what now?” maeve’s jaw dropped in excitement as you told her a story about her boyfriend.

“y/n, don’t tell her, please.” spencer pleaded.

“no, y/n, tell me.” maeve encouraged.

“yeah, y/n, tell her.” derek joined in, placing his head on his hand as he leaned in to listen.

“fine,” you sighed. “spencer wanted to show me how great he is at nunchucks. it was going pretty well, until he accidentally hit his...well, his man parts.” you explained. maeve bursted out laughing along with the others.

“hey!” spencer pouted as he nudged your shoulder with his.

“i’m sorry, it was funny.” you giggled as he ruffled your hair.

“well, now i know what to not get you for your birthday.” maeve smiled. spencer laughed, giving her a kiss on the lips.

you tried your best to not grimace.

you even invited her for a girls’ night out with the rest of the bau ladies.

“thank you for inviting me!” maeve said, giving you a hug.

“oh it’s nothing. you’re dating spencer, so that means you’re a part of our family now.” emily grinned at her.

“and you look amazing. i see that you’re wearing that dress you bought when we went shopping together.” you added.

“you’ve noticed! and thank you for convincing me to buy it, i love it so much.” maeve smiled.

“we’re back with drinks!” penelope yelled as she and jj walked back with a tray full of alcohol. “oh my god, maeve, you’re here!” she smiled at her.

“i am.” maeve laughed.

“oh my god, i forgot to get you a drink! i’m so sorry, i didn’t know what to get you.” penelope practically cried.

“that’s fine, i can go grab something real quick.” maeve stood up from her seat.

“i’ll come with you. i’ll pay for the drink!” penelope said as she followed her back to the bar.

you, emily, and jj took a sip of your drinks.

“so, y/n,” emily started, causing you to turn your head towards her in confusion. “are you okay with all of this?”

“all of what?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“maeve and spencer dating.” she answered. your eyes slightly widened.

“yeah, i’m okay with it. why wouldn’t i be okay with it?”

“because we know you’re in love with spencer.” jj said. you almost choke on your drink.

“i’m not!” you immediately denied. “he’s my best friend.”

“y/n, you might not be that open with your feelings, but we can tell that you like spencer and that him dating someone else is hurting you.” jj explained, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“and we might’ve read your journal.” emily muttered. you sighed.

“yes, i do like him, but i can’t do anything about it. he looks so happy lately and maeve is such a sweet girl. they’re perfect for each other and i don’t want to ruin that for them.” you shrugged as the girls looked at you with sympathy.

“okay, we’re back!” penelope yelled, causing you three to put on a happy mask. “let’s get this party started!” she added as the rest of you cheered and danced the night away.

despite the random times your heart would hurt after seeing spencer and maeve showing affection, you were genuinely happy for him.

“hey y/n,” spencer called out to you from his desk, causing you to look up from your files. “why are you still single?” he asked bluntly, causing an eavesdropping derek to spit out his coffee.

“first of all, ouch,” you sarcastically scoffed. “second of all, i just haven’t had time nor found the right guy.”

and that i’m madly in love with you.

you ignore emily and jj raising their eyebrows at you.

“well, i can set you up with someone i know.” spencer grinned.

“spence, you don’t have to do that-”

“yes i do! you’re my best friend and an amazing person and i want to see you happy.” he explained. you were definitely ignoring emily’s and jj’s eyes practically popping out of their heads.

right. best friend.

“besides, we have the weekend off. you can go on a double date with me and maeve at the foreign film festival!” spencer beamed.

“oh, i don’t want to be a bother.”

“you won’t be! and i think you’ll like this guy.” he said with confidence.

me liking a guy who isn’t you? i don’t know about that.

“please y/n.” spencer begged. after a few moments, you sighed.

“fine, i’ll go.” you agreed in surrender.

“great! i’ll text you the details later.”

maybe this blind date will actually go pretty well and i’ll finally get over spencer.

you arrived to the park that the festival was being held at, carrying a picnic blanket as you sported a cute midi dress.

“y/n!” a familiar voice called out to you. you turned to see spencer waving to you with one arm as the other was wrapped around maeve’s waist. you noticed another familiar figure standing next to them.

“hey guys!” you smiled as you quickly walked up to them, giving spencer a hug.

“you look amazing!” maeve complimented you, bringing you in for a quick hug as well.

“thank you, you too!” you grinned at her. you turned to the third person, giving him a friendly smile.

“y/n, this is-”

“agent anderson.” you smirked at him, surprised that spencer had set you up with a coworker.

“please, call me grant. you look beautiful.” he smiled at you.

“thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” you smiled back.

grant wasn’t a horrible guy. you’ve had small talk with the guy before, and you were actually shocked to see that he shared a few similar interests as you. and you weren’t going to lie, he was quite the looker.

“we still have another half hour until the screening starts. let’s walk around and check out the vendors.” spencer announced, grabbing maeve’s hand as they walked away.

that definitely did not hurt. and you are on a date right now, y/n.

“see you later, lovebirds!” she shouted, causing you two to laugh.

“let’s go, shall we?” grant offered his arm to you. you grinned as you wrapped your arm around it.

as you two walked around, you found yourself having a good time while talking to grant. you both talked about where you’re from, what made you want to go into criminal justice, and even teased each other for the snack choices you both bought for the films.

“i’m telling you, sour patch watermelon is better.” you argued as grant laid down the picnic blanket next to spencer and maeve (who were already cuddled up next to each other).

“at least you get different flavors with sour patch kids.” grant raised an eyebrow at you. you huffed as you took your spot next to him, popping another piece of candy in your mouth.

“aw look, they’re already having their first fight, how cute.” spencer teased, earning a popcorn thrown to the head by you.

soon, the first movie projected onto the big screen, the noises dying down as it started. grant wrapped his arm around you (after asking you politely, which you accepted) as you watched the movie with ease, seeing that you knew the language it was playing in.

“hey, y/n?” grant whispered.

“yeah?” you raised your eyebrows as your eyes were glued onto the screen.

“funny thing, actually. see, i don’t know really know what they’re saying,” he gave a nervous chuckle quietly. you looked at him with confusion. “i thought they were going to have subtitles.” he confessed as you tried to suppress a laugh.

“don’t worry, i got you,” you gave him a small smile. “so far, the guy and the girl are from rich families and their parents are making them marry in the next month.” you explained.

“oh,” he nodded. “wait, what’s happening now?” he looked at the screen with interest.

“that guy over there,” you pointed out the weird-looking man. “is trying to make sure the marriage doesn’t happen. he said he’s gonna seduce the girl and marry her and take her money and kill her.”

“not with that mustache.” grant joked, causing you to chuckle.

you kept translating for grant, trying to keep quiet as he kept making funny remarks. you were having a great time with him, until you heard giggles from your left.

you turn your head to see maeve smiling as spencer’s lips were centimeters away from her ear (assuming that he was translating the movie for her too) as his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. you couldn’t help but feel you heart breaking again.

“you okay, y/n?” grant whispered closely to you. you slightly jumped, snapping your head towards him.

“yeah, i’m fine.” you faked a smile.

you both continued translating and joking around as you ignored the pain in your chest. after a couple more hours, the film finished with a happy ending, causing you to tear up (and grant to wipe them away with the sleeves of his sweater).

“that was such a good movie.” spencer said as the four of you walked to your cars.

“i know! i started crying!” you said, earning laughs from everyone.

“y/n, you cry at everything though.” spencer teased.

“i do! it’s a talent of mine.” you quipped, raising an eyebrow at him as grant laughed.

“well, this is us,” maeve said as she and spencer stood by her car. “we’ll see you two later!” she bid goodbye as you hugged her and spencer.

“see ya!” you waved goodbye as they got in the car.

“may i walk you to your car?” grant offered.

“sure!” you accepted as you led the way. a comfort silence fell between you two as you walked under the moonlight.

“you’re in love with him, aren’t you?” grant broke the silence. you stopped in your tracks.

“what?” you furrowed your brows.

“spencer. you like him.”

“what? no,” you shook your head as you continued walking. “he’s my best friend.”

“i don’t need to be a profiler to notice the way you look at him,” he shyly put his hands in his pockets. “and i’m guessing you let him set you up on a blind date so you could get over him.”

“i’m sorry grant,” you sighed. “you’re a great guy, really. and i had a lot of fun tonight.” you sulked.

“y/n, it’s totally fine. you can’t control who you love,” he patted you shoulder in comfort. “i think you should tell him how you feel.” he suggested. you looked at him like he was crazy.

“that sounds like a horrible idea, grant,” you laughed. “as you can see, he’s in a happy relationship.” you said as you arrived to your car, leaning on your door.

“i’m serious! you really should.”

“and why would i do that?” you crossed your arms.

“first, spencer looks at you the way you look at him. second, you should hear the way he talks about you.” grant explained.

“no way. he’s just being a good friend and he’s known me for a long time.”

“when he was talking to me about setting us up, he talked about you as if you had put all of the stars in the sky – he was blushing and even stuttering! trust me y/n, i know. tell him before you lose him for good.” he rambled. you sighed, not wanting to get your hopes up.

“i don’t believe you for one bit,” you both laughed. “and besides, i don’t want to ruin spencer’s happiness.”

“you both deserve to be happy,” he smiled at you. you lazily smiled back at him. “listen, i gotta go. thank you for tonight, y/n, it was nice getting to know you more. even though this date didn’t go as planned, it was nice to make a new friend.”

“thank you grant.” you pulled him in for a warm and comforting hug.

you scrolled through netflix as you tried to decide on a series to binge-watch with spencer.

spencer: hey y/n, can i come over and hang out with you?

y/n: sure, why?

spencer: maeve’s caught up with work.

y/n: oh, is she okay with that?

spencer: yeah! she knows we’re just friends.

yeah. just friends.

spencer: wanna watch something? i’ll let you pick.

y/n: sure!

spencer: great! i’ll see you in a bit. :)

yay. great.

you finished putting down bowls of your favorite snacks on the coffee table when you heard a knock. you rushed over to open your door to see your best friend smiling at you.

“hey, come in! i hope you like watching new girl again.” you opened your door wider, letting spencer walk in, he immediately jumped onto your couch. you laughed as you sat next to him, pressing the play button on your remote.

“so, how was the date? what do you think of grant?” spencer asked as the show played in the background.

“it was fun! he’s a cool guy.” you answered.

“that’s great! did you guys kiss? when’s the wedding?” he joked.

“hold your horses, bud,” you rolled your eyes at him. “we did not kiss and there will be no wedding. we actually decided to be just friends.”

“what?!” spencer’s eyes widened. “why?! you two looked so good together.” he pouted.

“i know you worked hard to get us together, and i appreciate you for doing that, but it’s for the best. now can we get back to new girl?” you asked. spencer nodded as you two glued your eyes to the tv.

after a season had finished, spencer looked to you, only to see you knocked out. he shook his head in amusement as he stood up and walked to your room to find you a blanket. before he could grab your blanket, your desk caught his eyes.

“what a mess,” spencer muttered to himself as he tried to organize the files that sat on top of a pile of paper. he moved a few folders and started to organize the papers until he started reading them. “what are these?”

dear spencer,

you are the sweetest person i know. you always bring me my coffee order (i would ask you how you remember my order, but then i realized you have eidetic memory) along with my favorite muffin. even when i have already gotten my order, you still show up with two coffee cups and a paper bag and give me my half.

to be honest, i feel bad that you’re always spending on me, even if it’s just coffee and muffins and you always tell me that it’s nothing. but i appreciate that you’re always thinking of me – and that’s one of the many reasons why i have fallen for you.

love, y/n

“fallen for me?”

dear spencer,

i wonder how many facts go through your head at a time. i also wonder what kind of books you’ve read to have come across those facts. and with the amount of facts that your brain has obtained, i wonder how fast it takes for your brain to bring up a fact that relates to whatever we’re talking about.

despite the random times you started rambling about a topic and someone from the team stops you, i started to find them fascinating. they’ve interested me enough to the point where i started to do some research on my own whenever you brought up a random fact. your fact dumps are cute – you’re cute.

love, y/n

“y/n thinks i’m cute?”

dear spencer,

oh boy, the things you do to me. i know you’re my best friend, but there are times where it just feels like we could be so much more. remember when we were hanging out at my place and we were watching star wars for the hundredth time? we were having a great time, until you wrapped your arms around me and started cuddling me while we finished the rest of the movies.

i got scared, but i didn’t stop you. i let you hold me in your arms and even wrapped my arms around your torso and leaned on you, hoping that you didn’t notice my heart beating louder and faster than usual. i shouldn’t be feeling this way for my best friend, but goddamnit spencer i’m in love with you.

love, y/n.

“she’s in love with me?”

“s-spence?” a voice called out to him. spencer turned his head to see you with a terrified look on your face. “what are you doing with those?”

“i- are these love letters? to me?” he asked. you visibly gulped.

“those were from a long time ago.” you tried to explain as you felt your eyes starting to sting.

“why didn’t you tell me?” spencer sounded like he was about to break. you deeply inhaled before speaking.

“i was scared of ruining our friendship and obviously you don’t see me that way. there was no point in telling you since you’re with maeve now. i meant to throw those away, but i guess i forgot.” you lowered your head. spencer sighed as he tried to take everything in.

“y/n-”

“can you leave?” you asked slowly. “i think we both need some time to be alone right now.”

“but we need to talk this ou-”

“spencer, please.” you looked up at him with tears that were ready to fall. he understood and walked out. as soon as you heard your door close, you fell onto your bed, hugging your legs to your chest, sobbing until you let darkness consume you.

after a few days of taking some time off, you were called in for a local case. the moment you sat at your desk, you could feel spencer’s eyes on you. ever since that night, you haven’t returned any of his calls or messages as you tried to recover yourself from getting your heart broken. and now that you’re back, everybody could feel the awkward tension between you two. you tried to ignore it, putting your focus on the case.

luckily, hotch could tell what was going on and decided to pair you off with emily for the day. the case you were working on wasn’t as severe as the others you have worked on, so as soon as the team delivered the profile, you went out to lunch with grant.

“and then i asked him to leave.” you finished explaining the incident to him.

“i’m sorry that happened.”

“it’s not your fault. my dumb ass forgot to throw away those stupid letters and now spencer and i can’t even look at each other.” you sighed as you continued to eat your lunch.

“don’t say that. it was better that he found out sooner or else your feelings would’ve eaten you up the longer you kept them in.” grant raised his eyebrows at you.

“you’re right. i just miss him. i miss seeing him and talking to him and i messed it all up. god, even after a few days off, i’m still not over him.” you lazily poked your food.

“the wound is still fresh. no one expects you to be alright right away. but it does help if you talk to him.” he suggested.

“what is there to talk about? spencer doesn’t like me and he’s happy with maeve – end of story.”

“yeah about that,” grant nervously chuckled. “spencer broke up with her.”

“what?” your eyes widened. “why? they were so good together. i didn’t want him to break up with her because of me. now i feel bad.” you frowned.

“he didn’t tell me exactly why they broke up, but i’m guessing it has to do with how he feels about you.” he shrugged.

“about me? yeah, sure.” you roll your eyes in amusement.

“you’ll never know unless you talk to him.”

“how do you always know what to say?” you grinned at your friend.

“it’s part of the charm.” he said, earning a laugh from you.

you soon returned to work to wrap up the case. hours later, it ended with a quick arrest with no one else getting hurt. you relaxed into your desk chair as you started on paperwork.

hours later, you found yourself being one of the only people left in the office (along with spencer sitting at his desk and hotch in his office).

“are you sure you don’t want to come get drinks with us? paperwork can wait until tomorrow.” emily offered as she, jj, derek, and penelope were ready to hit the town.

“as much as i would love to, i think i’m just gonna stay in tonight after i’m done. thank you though, and have fun for me!” you smiled at them, giving them quick hugs before returning back to work.

after a couple more hours, you finished the last of your paperwork, bringing your pile up to hotch’s office.

“here’s that paperwork i’ve finished. i also finished morgan’s pile,” you said, placing the files on his desk. “is there anymore that you want me to do?”

“no, you’ve done a lot today. get some rest.”

“okay, thank you.” you smiled at him.

“thank you again, y/n, have a good night.” he said, not even making eye contact.

“thanks, you too.”

“oh, and y/n?” hotch quickly said, lifting his head up. “talk to reid.” he simply said. you softly exhale.

“yes sir.” you nodded, giving your boss a small smile.

you quickly returned to your desk, looking up to see that spencer had already left. you slump your shoulders in defeat.

maybe i’ll talk to him tomorrow.

you opened your drawer to grab a few items and placed them in your bag. you checked the drawer again to make sure you didn’t miss anything, until you noticed some things that weren’t there before.

envelopes? what are those doing there?

you picked them up to see your name and a number written in an eerily familiar handwriting on one side. you carefully opened the envelope that said ‘y/n (1).’

dear y/n,

you’ve always intrigued me. not gonna lie, when i first met you, i was intimidated by you. you carried yourself with such confidence and ambition, i instantly thought that we were opposites – that you would be annoyed by me. but then i got to know you. you greeted me with a big smile, and i honestly felt my knees wobbling.

you are the sweetest girl. you’re so understanding and you always make everyone’s happiness your number one priority (although i do think it’s not a bad thing to be selfish sometimes). you’ve done so much for everyone, especially the team, both inside and outside of work.

when i found out you had a secret love for superheroes and science fiction, we became closer. i told you everything and whenever i felt down, you were the first person i went to, and you did the same to me. i am so grateful to have you by my side. i know you aren’t one to open up a lot, but i’m happy to be that one person you let break down your walls sometimes.

love, spencer

you started choking on air as your heart started picking up the pace. you picked up the second letter, opening it a little faster than the first one. you took a deep breath before you started reading the longer letter.

dear y/n,

for someone who has eidetic memory, i can’t pinpoint the exact moment where i realized i was starting to have feelings for you. there are so many moments where i see you as more than just my best friend, it’s honestly the little things you do that just gives me butterflies in my stomach.

like your first christmas with the team when you gave me several pairs of star trek socks. you told me you felt bad for not getting me something more expensive, but i love them. i’ve worn those socks more than any other pair i own. there was another time where you sent my mother a gift basket just because you thought she was feeling down. i didn’t know you sent her one until she called me out of the blue, wanting to thank you for cheering her up – i honestly didn’t even know you two regularly talked to each other. i don’t really talk to anyone about my mom until i met you, and it really means a lot to me seeing you check up on her when i wasn’t able to.

but what made my heart flutter the most is when you came over to jj’s and helped watch henry with me. i can usually take care of that little rascal without trouble, but i guess one night he decided to eat a bunch of candy and run around the house. you basically teleported (which is not scientifically possible, yet) and managed to catch henry and help him settle down. i couldn’t help but admire you with loving eyes as you made henry laugh while you tucked him into bed. you’re really great with kids and would make an amazing mother someday.

this letter was longer than usual and i got a little carried away. i just wanted to tell you that you are a wonderful person who deserves the world.

love, spencer

you felt a tug at your heartstrings as you smiled from ear to ear. you looked at the last envelope, feeling a little bit scared to open it. nonetheless, you ripped the top open, taking in another deep breath before reading.

dear y/n,

i really am an idiot, aren’t i? ever since the night i found your letters, i felt like the biggest jerk in the world. i broke your heart many times without even noticing, and seeing you cry that night made me feel like absolute shit. i hate that i’m reason you’re hurting and i would give everything up just to make you happy again.

after thinking things through, i broke up with maeve that same night. i love her and she will always have a place in my heart, but she isn’t you. and before you start to think that it’s your fault, it’s definitely not. i made the decision to end things with her, and don’t worry, she’s okay and she actually understands. i’m 100% sure of my decision.

i’ve never met anyone like you. you’ve been in my thoughts and dreams for the longest time. when i fell for you, i fell hard. i didn’t even think you would see me as more than just a best friend, and i am such an idiot for thinking that i can replace you. you deserve true love and happiness and i hope you find that someone that gives you their all – even if it isn’t me.

love, spencer.

you wiped the tears off your face as you read the last sentence.

“holy shit.” you managed to breathe out.

you quickly got up and grabbed your bag and car keys and sprinted to the elevator. you bounced your leg as you anxiously waited for the elevator to reach the parking garage.

run to your car. speed to spencer’s apartment without getting pulled over. slam on his door until he answers it – i’ll kick it down if i have to.

as soon as the doors open, you started running to your car. as you got closer, you spotted a tall figure leaning on your car, stopping in your tracks and almost dropping your keys.

“spencer?” you said, causing him to jump up a little.

“hey y/n.” he scrambled, trying to get himself together.

“you waited for me?” you stated the obvious. spencer nodded, giving you a nervous smile.

“seeing that you were still up there for a while, i’m guessing you read the letters.” he lightly scratched the back of his neck.

“oh, i had one more case to file,” you started to joke. “what letters?” you raised an eyebrow. spencer’s eyes widened.

“well, this is awkward. i guess i’ll get going-” he started to walk away.

“i’m just kidding!” you exclaimed, gently grabbing his wrist. “i did read them.” you said quietly.

“oh.” spencer cooed.

“look, i didn’t mean to put you in that situation. i really was happy for you two and i know you said it’s not my fault you broke up with her, but i can’t help but feel guilty. i’m sorry.” you felt tears building up again.

“please, don’t be,” spencer grabbed your hands. “yes i liked maeve. she’s a great person and all, but what i felt for her was nothing compared to what i feel for you.” he confessed. you felt your heart racing.

“really?”

“yes,” he chuckled. “and if you don’t feel the same anymore, i’m totally fine just being your best friend. i’d rather have you in my life as a friend than as nothing at all. and i know you deserve someone who makes you happy and won’t break your heart and-”

before spencer could finish, you placed your hands behind his neck and pulled him in for a sweet, yet passionate kiss. you felt him smile as he held your face in his hands, deepening the kiss. soon, you both pull back to catch your breaths, and you found yourself looking at him as if he held the entire universe in his eyes. you gently placed a hand on his cheek.

“i want you.” you lazily smiled at him.

“can i ask you something?” spencer raised his eyebrows.

“anything.”

“did you throw away those letters?” he asked. you thought about his question, realizing that you never really did touch those letters ever since he found them.

“actually, i didn’t. why?” you looked at him with confusion. spencer suddenly started smiling mischievously. he snatched your car keys out of your hand and ran to the driver’s side.

“we’re going back to your place and i’m reading every single letter you wrote me!” he laughed.

“spencer, no!”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n

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professorbcampbell · 3 years

Text

A Bid for Power || Bea & Ben

Location: Illusions of Grandeur

Timing: July 13th, 2021

Tagging: @beatrice-blaze & @professorbcampbell

Description: Ben takes a trip to check out Bea’s venue. A very normal conversation occurs.

Warnings: None!

Shutting off the engine of his car, Ben straightened his neatly pressed shirt as he took in the venue. Illusions of Grandeur. Ever since his rather intriguing run in with the woman-- Bea Vural, as he’d found out later-- at Coffee Plus, he’d found himself thinking more and more about her. There was something about her that had struck a chord. It wasn’t just the interest in Ovid nor was it her perspective on antiquity, though neither of those hurt. No, it was the analytical eye. The guarded nature. The way they seemed to be going through the same, practiced movements of waiting, watching, and responding. His dive into her personal page on the White Crest message boards hadn’t yielded much, other than the fact she was owner and performer at Illusions of Grandeur and that she curated a very… eye-catching Instagram. She clearly took care of herself, and her appearances. But, there had to be more to this woman than just carnival magic tricks.

Walking around the building, he glanced at the hours. Closed. Which made sense. It was a venue, it wouldn’t be open until later. But, there were other cars around which meant-- “Hey there. Can I help you?” Ben looked up and saw a rather unassuming man peeking out from the front doors, a curious expression on his face.

“Ah! Sorry to intrude, I was hoping to speak to Beatrice Vural, the proprietor?” He said with a nod. The man blinked for a moment before nodding.

“Yeah, Bea’s in the back. Is she expecting you?” The man asked.

Ben let out a laugh, tinged with faux-awkwardness and self-conscious airs. “No, I don’t think she is. I met her the other day and was hoping to speak with her again.”

“Uh huh.” The man said, unimpressed before glancing at his watch. “We have a few hours before show time, so hey. No worries. Come on in.” And with that, Ben followed the man inside, his intrigue growing with every step he took.

A week of not paying attention to the paperwork was coming to bite Bea in the ass. It was worth not stressing over it, but now the math in front of her was swimming across the page and her brain was twenty seconds away from exploding. She closed the books and leant back in her chair, she’d have to ask John to look over all the numbers for her. He had basically run the place for a year and to hand the reins back to him after only a month felt like failing. John didn’t care, she knew that, he didn’t want to be the owner and was happy with where he was, it still felt like she hadn’t planned the right way.

Bea stood from her desk, determined to make herself a coffee and debating if it was too early to add whiskey. She swung open her office door and made her way to the kitchen. A glorious god (most likely John) had cleaned the espresso maker and she made quick work of making herself a drink. Leaving the kitchen, she nearly knocked into someone with her drink. A small, half laugh left her, “That’s the second time I’ve almost poured coffee on you.” Why was Ben here? “What brought you to my theater?”

Following after John, Ben took in the back of house trappings that filled the space before he was led into the business section of the venue. It was a very run of the mill office set up, with the smell of hot coffee floating in the air and-- Ben hopped back out of the way when he noticed the woman in his periphery. He glanced down at his shirt, relieved to see nothing had spilled on it, before letting out a laugh of his own, “Second time lucky, I’d say. In that I haven’t gotten splashed either time.” He said with a nod and a smile. At her question, Ben reached for the answer that he had been prepared ahead of time. “I was curious about the theater after you mentioned it the first time we met, so I thought I’d look into it. Magic acts have always intrigued me and I must say, I was surprised to hear that you were the one running the show.”

“We have perfect reflexes between the two of us,” Bea teased. “Otherwise, we’d both be covered in coffee every time we saw each other.” Honestly, though it was surprising to see him, she wasn’t upset at all. He was interesting, like a puzzle, and she wanted to figure him out. “You were surprised?” She asked amused, “I must have not been dramatic enough the first time we met.” She took a sip of her coffee, “Would you like to join me in a coffee and a tour? The coffee can be Irish, if you’re up for it,” She said lightly, a mischievous look in her eye.

“So it would seem,” Ben agreed with an obligating chuckle. At her question, he offered a shrug. “You didn’t strike me as an entertainer-- though, perhaps I’m just out of touch with the rest of society. I don’t often interact with people who aren’t either colleagues or students.” He replied. The real reason he was surprised was because he had heard things about Illusions of Grandeur too. About how the acts here had been so intricate, so incredible, so show stopping. And then, the shows had stopped. He’d read as much in the archives of the White Crest Press website. Smiling at her joke, he shook his head, “I must have been projecting. You deal with enough academics and suddenly you forget that not everyone is involved in education.” At her offer, Ben nodded. “I’d be delighted for both, but I think I’ll pass on the extra shot. I’m not much of a drinker.” He said with a sheepish expression on his face.

“I really must have been off my game when we first met,” Bea replied with fake modesty. She hadn’t been. There just happened to be places and times for being as extroverted as a performer and Coffee Plus was not one of them. She smiled at him warmly as she went back into the kitchen to make him a coffee, “I suppose the book I was reading didn’t help you with your assumption. We do educational events here, but I fear that doesn’t make me an educator.” Nor did she want to be an educator, she didn’t have enough patience for that. She didn’t like the sheepish expression on him, as convincing as it was, she had an eye for acting and something about it didn’t sit right with her. “I usually only have wine with dinner, but after the week I had,” She shrugged with a practiced smile. “Did John show you anything as he brought you up?”

Following the woman into the small break room, Ben glanced around at the space. Nothing out of the ordinary, just what he would expect from a small business’ break room. “That it did not. And the conversation we had, though quite refreshing, didn’t do much to change the assumption either. But, I ought to leave my preconceived notions at the door. Something to work on.” He said as he leaned against the wall, watching her fix him a mug. Raising an eyebrow at her words, he gave an apologetic wince. “That bad, huh? Well, I can’t begrudge you a little something extra to take the edge off in that case.” Ben said with an understanding nod. “No, he didn’t actually. I think I may have caught him in the middle of something?” He shrugged. He didn’t care about the random man, he wasn’t the reason why Ben was here.

“I’m quite flattered that you thought highly of our conversation then. It’s always good to have a self reflective goal to work towards.” It certainly was something to work on, Bea thought. There were too many people in this world who thought that value and intelligence came from a stupid piece of paper. Her and her sisters were just as smart as anyone else and they certainly had not gone to school to find that out. She handed him his coffee and took a sip of her own, busying herself instead of replying to his empathy. She waved a dismissive hand, “If you had caught John in the middle of something important he would have ignored you. Which points to your luck again, that you didn’t.” John was the one Bea tended to send out when too many questions were asked, he was not afraid of confrontation, if it had a good cause. “I see two path ahead of us, Ben, we can enjoy our coffee and conversation or we can get the show on the road and I can start the tour.”

With a nod, Ben accepted the cup with a nod and took a sip, watching her over the rim of the mug. It seemed as though there was something she wasn’t saying, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. “What is life if not the opportunity to grow and change?” He asked with a smile before holding his cup in front of him. His lips curled slightly at the wave she cast in his direction, amused by her confidence. She was certainly a woman who knew herself and the people around her, it seemed. “Well, seems like I’m quite fortunate indeed.” He said before nodding. And she liked to take charge. A trait that made sense for a woman in her position, a business owner, a performer. And one that Ben would entertain, for now. “Yes, the tour-- please, lead the way.” He smiled.

Bea kept her face straight, though she struggled with the question. Life was complex, harsh, and beautiful. It was too many things all at once. Pain had forced growth in her, but she knew others who dug in their heels and never changed. “Life is what we make of it,” She finally decided. “There are plenty of people who don’t want to life to be that.” She thought of her mother, a woman she had seen as someone with infinite wisdom as a child, and how as an adult that illusion had shattered. She thought of herself, just a year ago, and how steadfast she had been in the way she handled things. “Welcome to Illusions of Grandeur. Here we have our state of the art kitchen,” She said with a soft tease. “On this floor, it’s mainly offices, mine and John’s, and a place for our performers to relax. Downstairs you’ll find the dressing rooms and props area.”

Ben kept a watchful eye on the woman’s expression, privately amused. She was mulling over the question far longer than most would, but didn’t appear to be troubled by it. Was she? Had he struck a nerve? He had no way of knowing, which delighted him. What a fascinating woman, this Beatrice Vural. “True. Life is a series of choices and we, blessed with free will, can do with it what we will. I’m of the opinion that we owe it to ourselves to grow and better ourselves. But,” He said with a laugh and wave of his hand, “I’m philosophizing. You can put the professor on summer break, but his heart remains in the classroom.” He said. Nodding, he smiled at her joke. “Oh, top of the line.” He said. “I must admit-- I’ve always been intrigued by stage magic. Would I be able to see the prop room? Or are those trade secrets?”

“I suppose you can look at it that way,” Bea replied, “But I’m not sure we owe anyone, even ourselves, anything at the start. We can certainly live to owe people, and ourselves. You don’t owe anything until you ask for something.” She let out a soft laugh, “Though that could just stem from my distaste for organized religion. Maybe I’m getting lost in the details.” She had never really understood original sin, it seemed wildly unfair to give babies sins. She knew that wasn’t at all what Ben had meant, but that certainly didn’t stop her from voicing her thoughts. “Not a bad thing to be focused on learning, I’m not the type to do well in the classroom, but I enjoy our discussions.” She eyed him for a moment, a practiced smirk taking over her face. She had had plenty of people curious about the elements that they had seen on stage. “I’ll show you some of my performer’s secrets, but none of my own. That you have to earn.”

Her answer posed more questions than it answered, Ben thought to himself. What a curious woman. “The idea of owing something to another and indebtedness is certainly prevalent in most religions.” He agreed, “But-- you said we don’t owe something until we ask for it. What’s life without the asking, the wanting? We all have our own desires, those things we want more than anything else. Isn’t that part of the human experience?” Ben asked. Oh, how he knew about the wanting. The hunger. The desire for more. And he knew all about the owing too. “Well, I’m glad to hear I’m not a total bore.” He said before meeting her confident gaze. The smirk at the corner of her lips amused him. A strong willed woman. “And how might I earn those?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“Everyone ends up owing someone something,” Bea shrugged. She supposed she had many people she owed, but it hadn’t come inherently, she had put herself in that position. Many people had put themselves in that position with her. “I suppose what really matters is how we react to owing or being owed. Even more so, how much we have to go through with a person until the scales are tipped the other direction.” She had owed her mother so much, but finally, the scales were tipping. Beatrice and Nisa were getting closer to balance, slowly. Soon, Bea wouldn’t owe her. Maybe, one day, Nisa would look to her eldest for something. She started to lead him to the props area, “Well, what has the same value as a secret, Ben? If you can give me that, then you’ve earned something in return.”

Everyone ends up owing someone something. Now, if Bea only knew how true that statement was. Ben had seen his father carry the burdens of his grandfather, carry his debt and forge a path of blood and sacrifice to a brighter future. The future he had dreamed of. And Ben, he didn’t owe, not yet. But he needed to prove himself worthy of His Lord before that which he craved could be his. And then, then he would owe much. And he’d have the power to pay it back in full. “I’ve always been far more comfortable owing than being owed.” Ben said, though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. The leverage, the power, the ability to apply just the slightest amount of pressure on someone because they were indebted to him… he relished the feeling. But no one would admit to such a thing. “That said, I don’t make a habit of owing people things. Level playing fields are my preferred territory.” He sad. Another lie, but she had no reason to know that. Looking around at the props, the gaudy costumes, the sparkling, glittering decor that served to distract the audience, Ben smiled, “Depends on the secret, I’d suppose.” He sipped the last of his coffee contemplatively before replying, “For the price of a secret that your livelihood rests on… I’d say that might be a bit steep for me.”

Bea didn’t believe that for a moment, no one liked that. How could anyone be comfortable in that sort of situation? Perhaps if the person owed was a trusted someone, it wouldn’t be as terrible. She wouldn’t pick it for herself though. “I’m not,” She said nonchalantly. It was an honest answer. This truth might not be comfortable, but she didn’t think it was horrible. “I have owed people in the past and the scramble to bring it back to center is not an experience I’d like to have all that often after. I’d rather hold the power, though that sounds terribly selfish,” She let out a soft laugh. She wore her selfishness as a shield, knowing that her fatal flaw was the loyalty she held for those she loved. Better people think she would pick herself over others than knowing what it would truly move her. “Well, not all of my secrets here will ruin my show in the wrong hands,” She said amused. “Maybe start with one of those.”

Ben raised his eyebrows in an expression of casual surprise, but he couldn’t help but be startled by how open she was about that. People tended to play the humble card, to downplay how uncomfortable they were in situations that tested them. Or, at the very least, they would take the easy route and present themselves as some kind of magnanimous person who didn’t mind owing others because debts could be so easily repaid. How intriguing. What had this woman owed? And to who? “I don’t think that’s selfish. I think it’s quite honest.” He said earnestly. “And even if it was, there’s something to be said about being selfish. So few people are these days. It’s refreshing.” He said, folding his arms across his chest to think for a moment. “Let’s see… I’ve always wanted to know how to pull a rabbit from a hat. What might that run me?”

The cool mask Bea kept on hid the pleasure she had at his approval. It would be a lie to say that some of her self worth didn’t come from the opinions other’s held about her. Nisa had taught her the power of other people’s thoughts and Bea was in no rush to challenge that. That piece of growth could wait until she was better fitted to deal with the pain it would bring. She tilted her head at his words, a shy smile sent his way. “I’m glad you think so. Not many people are open to ugly honesty, it scares them.” Ugliness ran deeply through each of them, it was just a game of seeing who could hide it the best. Or mold it into the sharpest weapon. She made a show of pondering, biting her lip and furrowing her brow quite threatically. “For something like that, I suppose I could take a piece of information you would share in an icebreaker exercise. Nothing terribly personal, but interesting enough to make me remember you,” She teased.

This woman was full of all kinds of unexpected truths. Ugly honesty indeed. He was no stranger to that, not at all. But, Ben hid the truth well, covered it in velvety words and smoothed it away until it seemed harmless. Until he seemed harmless. “I think it’s less the honesty that scares people and more the act of being honest. Because if someone else has the courage to voice their unpleasant truths then, well… what are they hiding for, hm?” He mused. “The crowd has never liked those who are braver or stronger than them. Admired, feared, but never liked.” As Bea mulled over his question, Ben leaned against the wall, his stance relaxed and casual. Something from an icebreaker. If that was the price of a simple illusion, what might admitting he served a demonic lord might gain him? Nothing of value-- or at least, nothing more valuable than His Lord. “That seems a small enough price. Hi. I’m Ben Campbell. When I was fourteen, I broke my arm jumping off the roof onto the trampoline at a friend’s house.” He said, providing the work friendly lie of how he had broken his arm. In reality, he’d broken it in a scuffle with his brother’s sacrifice at the time, an overgrown sophomore at the White Crest High.

Bea smiled, knowing all too well why people hid their own truths. For as honest as she came off, she had enough secrets that she kept close to her chest. Her honesty was an old trick, showing a false depth in the hopes no one dug deeper. Those who did were often surprised with what they found, that, at least, was satisfying. A bit like the rabbit trick itself. “Which brings up the age-old question, do we strive to be liked or admired?” Or feared? She believed herself closer to admired, feared when people saw the abilities she possessed. It hadn’t done her too bad at this point, though being liked had its own set of pluses. She smiled at his icebreaker answer, “The perfect thing to say. Now everyone who goes after you will think of their own injuries and have something to relate to you with.” There was a part of her that almost told him about her ankle, the allure of being relatable ringing loudly in her ears. That wasn’t the deal however, it was a secret for a secret, but it wasn’t her own she would be sharing. She pulled over a hat and a scarf, “For the purposes of the demonstration, the scarf will be the rabbit.” She showed him the false bottom and then delivered the trick with flair.

“Now that is indeed an age-old question. I should watch out, otherwise there might be a new ancient philosophy and ethics professor at UMWC.” Ben teased. The answer was clear to him, as it always had been. Liked, admired… even feared-- the combination of the three was how one conquered the world. False compassion to ensure the tide of public opinion was on your side, benevolent actions with ulterior motives for admiration, and the violent, deadly truth for fear. They were the three cards that he played, one after the other, to unsurprising success. But no one liked to think about that. No one liked to think how easily they could be manipulated. “I suppose it varies from person to person, and from time to time-- goodness knows I don’t want to be admired the same way I did when I was in high school. I find myself wanting to be admired in an inspirational fashion. If I can help guide my students towards their callings and I’m admired for that, I consider that worthwhile.” He nodded. A safe answer. An expected answer.

“I suppose you’re right about that.” Ben laughed, a sheepish sound. “I never thought of it that way.” Lies. Of course he had. He crafted every aspect of his life at the university to be approachable, to be relatable. Ben focused on the trick watching intently as she demonstrated how it worked. Simple deception and trickery, a trick of the light. An illusion. “Ah… That’s far more simple than I thought it would be. But, if it works, it works.”

Bea let out a soft, surprised laugh. She hadn’t expected that sort of praise, no matter how interested he seemed in her conversation. She had always thought of herself as intelligent, though she didn’t think many people shared that opinion. Her vanity often changed the way she was perceived by others, intelligence overlooked for appearance. She didn’t necessarily mind it, it gave her something to use as a tool, but to be seen in this manner by a near stranger felt good. “I think I’d need to go to college before I truly became a threat to your livelihood.” She had never truly seen the appeal to that institution, her worth was nothing something that could be evaluated through a numeric system created by old white men. Her sisters and her were doing quite fine without that in their lives. “And where does the fear fit into that equation?” She asked. She under understood it in some manner though. Her performers were meant to look to her as a source of inspiration, a mentor when they needed one. The fear she held was not to intimidate her performers, but rather those who look too closely at them. It was a method of protection, for her and them.

“When I first did workshops, I always tried to find an answer that made people relate to me. It made it easier to pull those with more connections than me. Maybe you’re doing that subconsciously.” Or maybe he was like her and planned his answers to these things, even if he claimed not to. She nodded, “It’s so simple that it’s almost disappointing. I try to avoid tricks like that now, if it takes someone longer to figure it out, the longer they think of my show.” The challenge of finding a trick like that was great fun for her too.

At the news that Bea had never been to college, Ben resisted the impulse to stare at her in shock. She’d never been to college? Never even taken a college course? How could that possibly be? She was an entertainer, yes, but her interests and the insights she held-- they were beyond that of what he’d expect from someone with just a high school diploma. Or, Lord forbid, a GED. Incredible. Unbelievable. But, he kept his expression calm and smiled instead. “Well, I suppose that means my job is safe for the time being.” He joked before shrugging at her question. “Fear seems a bit too Machiavellian for me, personally.”

“That could be it.” Ben agreed though her answer, once again, only made him wonder more. She actively tried to make connections, actively tried to be relatable. He could understand why she would do such things, but it still intrigued him. What else lay below the surface of this woman, who seemed just as observant and calculating as himself? “Really? Well. Could you show me one that interests you a bit more?” He asked, eyes bright as a small grin slid across his face. To her it would seem he was eager at the prospect of seeing another trick-- in reality, it was nothing more than a ploy to stoke her ego.

“Maybe I’ll have to look into it now, just for the pleasure of that,” Bea teased. Classrooms were not where she learnt best. She had always been a tactical learner, someone who had to do to get the best experience. Her interest in reading had developed later in life, after high school, when she felt free to explore her interests. The push to learn chemistry, math, and history had been bland while she was a student. Her grades had reflected her feelings on school very well. It was the one place she was allowed to do poorly. “A bit of Machiavellianism isn’t always a bad thing. Being able to use the tools one has to their advantage shouldn’t be considered deceitful or wrong. If fear is a method of keeping the playing field even, why not use it.” The Vurals, Bea found, could be considered ruthless at times, but maybe that’s what had kept them where they were.

The showman in Bea egged her on and with a small smirk, she nodded. “I won’t show you anything I’m using in my current show, but I can show you one of my old favorites.” There was temptation to pull out all the stops, awe him in a manner he had yet to be awe. She held back. This was a trick that required none of her own magic, but wonderful sleight of hand and a bit of trick fire. “Why don’t I show you first and then you can try to figure it out?” That was always a fun game and it would show her how his mind worked. What details he picked up on and what were lost in the end. She was quite excited to see how his observant eye would do.

“Well, I’ll be able to provide recommendations of classes if you ever decide to pursue a degree.” Ben said with an easy nod. If she ever did do such a thing, and Ben got the distinct impression that she had no such interest. No matter. “Spoken like the diplomat himself. I must say, I don’t entirely disagree that one must use all tools at their disposal. But, I try my best to leave fear as a last resort. And never with students. It’s just not good practice to strike fear in the people you’re teaching.” He replied.

“By all means.” Ben said with a smile and a wave of his hand. He had an eye for detail, but prestidigitation was hardly his strong suit. No matter, he was curious to see what she had in store.

“I’m far too busy right now to consider it, I fear,” Bea said easily. She had never considered, not even as her friends were searching for colleges. Perhaps there would be skills that she could obtain from some instruction, but she was fine with her books for most subjects. “Maybe I’ll sit in on one of your classes one day,” She teased. That was an interesting idea at least, then she could see how he taught his students. How different would he be in the classroom? When she felt a lesson needed to be taught, to anyone, she had a firm hand, though she did attempt to be kind. “Students are different, aren’t they? There’s a power imbalance there already, fear doesn’t need to be added. With adults, though, we have to remind them of the power.” Remind them of who they were dealing with.

It took a few moments to set up, but once she was ready, she held a deck of cards in her hand. She pulled out a sharpie, “Sign a few random cards for me.” A few fancy shuffling passes and the trick began in earnest. With a flash of fire, her deck vanished, her sleeveless dress giving no indication that it could have slipped somewhere that other people used. It was a simple trick by design, but no less fun to watch. “I wonder where the deck went,” She smiled.

“I suppose I have that to look forward to.” Ben said, matching her lightly teasing tone. At Bea’s words, Ben resisted the urge to smile-- not the saccharine smile of the doting professor or the wry grin bashful intellectual. He held back the smile of one who understood the power of fear and the joy of that came with using that particular tactic. It was a smile he rarely used outside of those nights in the wood, when he was offering sacrifice to his Lord. “Perhaps, perhaps.” He said, shrugging with a nonchalant air. “The iron hand in a velvet glove technique has its place. But, I prefer to avoid such things, when at all possible.”

He signed the cards as asked and watched as Bea flashed the cards in front of him, intrigued. Ben blinked as a sudden burst of flame illuminated both their faces. Flash paper, to draw attention away from the real trick. He’d seen her hands move, watched her closely, and yet… “Don’t tell me the cards are in my pocket.” Ben joked, patting his hands against his jeans.

There was something about Ben that tickled Bea, he pulled at her curiosity. He was magnetic to her, but, she imagined, not in the way he was to others. She wanted to take him apart until she found out what his goal was, why he was like her. She wanted to see if he truly believed some of the things he said. “I suppose that would make you the good cop and me the bad cop then,” She smiled. Did he have the potential to be as ruthless as she was? Maybe he could be worse. He was interesting enough for her to want him as a friend, but she couldn’t allow that title to go to anyone she didn’t understand.

“No, it’s not.” She smirked at him, “If I was going to put my hand in your pocket, I’d want you to know about it.” Her smirk widened as she snapped her fingers and cards began to rain around them. His signature seen as the cards fluttered down around them.

Ben couldn’t help but grin at her words. He wasn’t surprised by them-- he honestly couldn’t keep track of all the people who made a pass at him. But, this presented an interesting opportunity, one where he could pick Bea’s mind without needing ulterior motives. Watching as the cards fell from the sky, he spotted the cards he’d signed. Ben grabbed it from the air and glanced at it. The Queen of Spades. “That’s quite the trick, I can see why you used it in shows. I wonder how your new ones compare. ” He said, flipping the card between his fingers before handing it back to Bea. “Would dinner and drinks this weekend be payment enough to find out how you managed that?” Ben asked, his eyes bright. The mystery of the woman that was Beatrice Vural was one that intended to crack. One way or another.

At his grin, Bea smiled back, that wasn’t a smile she had gotten out of him yet. To be able to pull something like that from him pleased her. “You’ll have to see the show to know.” She never passed up the opportunity to get someone into her doors, even after hitting on them. She was a business woman at the end of the day. “Yes, I say it would, but I’ll need to check in with my partner to make sure he’s comfortable with it first.” Her relationship with Felix was based on trust and honesty, and while she was sure he would tell her to go off and have fun, confirming with him was important. “We’ll see how many secrets we can collect over drinks, hm?”

#p: abfp #p: bea vural #wickedswriting #chatzy #//just a very normal conversation and some fun lil magic tricks

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