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fortheloveofwonderland · 2 years ago

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A Chuisle Mo Chroi (Pulse of My Heart) | Ralvez

A Chuisle Mo Chroi (pronounced Mu Kooish-La Mu Kree) Irish term for Pulse of my Heart.

Summary - Spencer chronicles his unrequited love for his best friend in the form of letters to his mom. But when she meets the person Spencer has detailed to her, what happens when she inadvertently confesses her son's feelings for him?

A/N - Yes I mixed up the timeline. Just pretend the episode “300” happened after the episode “Luke”. Prison arc didn’t happen but Spencer’s mom was still moved to DC and Spencer still starts teaching. Also I don’t speak Irish. I googled terms of endearment from around the world and enjoyed this one the most. Thank you my darling @sassymoon for being my beta!

Anon request - Hi! Since you opened your requests I wanted to ask if you could write a sweet fluff fic/blurb for Spencer x Luke with them confessing their feelings and maybe having their first kiss? ❤️

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez

Category - fluff

CW - unrequited love, pinning Spencer, references to 1406 “Luke” and 1401 “300”, a single F-bomb, case related stuff, bisexual Spencer, first kiss.

WC - 5.4K

Spencer Reid loathed the term momma’s boy. Sure, he was close to his mom, when you grew up without a dad you clung to what you had left. Even if his mom didn’t recognise him half of the time, she was the only person in the whole world who understood him. When she was lucid at least.

Throughout high school all the much older kids had always referred to him as such due to the fact he spent so much time at home. What they didn’t know was that he spent all that time at home because he was looking after his mother. But he never told them as much, he’d rather them call him that than admit the truth to them.

When he moved to Virginia to join the BAU he wrote her a letter every single day. He told her everything, all the ins and out of the team, vague case details without getting graphic. He documented his meals, what books he’d read and everything else he could jam onto the page.

Over time life got in the way. His letters started becoming weekly, then monthly until the point when he’d forget the last time he’d put pen to paper and sent his mother one of the letters she loved so much.

He had to make more of an effort. She adored his letters, it allowed her to feel like she was there with him, embarking on his adventures alongside him. Spencer often thought they might be her last tangible grip on reality. So regardless of how tired he was, how busy he was, he ensured he would try to sit down at least once a week and write his mother a letter.

As of late his letters had revolved mostly around one topic, giving Spencer the opportunity to get his feelings out on paper so as to never have to admit them out loud. He was sure he’d written research papers shorter than the letters he was penning these days, and he was sure given his moms declining mental state she wasn’t reading them and if she was, she would surely not remember anything he had to say in those pages.

It was cathartic, almost like keeping a journal. He found the words flowed so easily when he had that particular subject matter on his mind.

We were on a case in New York this week, as usual I won’t go into detail. We caught the guy though, you’ll be pleased to know.

On the second day we were in the police precinct in Central Park and we both went to reach for a case file at the same time. Their hand brushed against mine and I swear I heard fireworks going off somewhere. Which is absurd because it was the middle of the day and of course there weren’t fireworks going off. But it happens a lot.

When they look at me I’m sure I can feel my IQ level drop in half. When they smile at me it’s like the whole world lights up. And those accidental touches make my heart race and make me feel giddy.

I know I’ve spent a lot of time in these letters talking about them recently and I’m sorry if it’s boring you. But I think I’m falling in love, mom, and I don’t know who else to talk to about it. Scratch that, I am in love and that terrifies me because they don’t look at me that way.

They’re one of my best friends, my teammate. I don’t even know if they like…it doesn’t matter. I just know I should not be feeling this way about them and I have to get these thoughts out of my head. I’m sure you’re not even reading these so you’ll never know anyway, but I feel lighter for having written it down. But just in case you do read these, I’m too scared to say their name.

Most letters read in the same vein. Spencer’s unrequited love was clouding his brain, causing him to be slower at making deductions and he feared it would hinder his work. Writing down his inane thoughts helped. Even if no one was reading them.

***

Hey mom,

Me again. We got back from a case in Ohio yesterday and Rossi invited us all over his place.

You know me, I’m not a big drinker, I had two glasses of wine but that was enough for me. Also I don’t trust myself around them when alcohol is involved, inebriation would loosen my tongue and I’m worried about what I might say. Those kinds of confessions are only for my letters.

They had quite a bit to drink though, I was watching them. I’m always watching them, it’s like I can’t stop myself. But I swear every time I looked up at them, they were looking right back at me smiling.

They even found me on the back patio while I was getting some air.

“Hey Spence, what are you doing out here?”

That’s what they said. There’s something about people calling me by nicknames that makes my heart soar. There’s no scientific data to back that up, love is all in the brain not the heart. It’s simply my brain releasing oxytocin and vasopressin, giving me a surge of positive emotions every time I see them.

Or hear them call me Spence.

“Just getting some air.” I told them, trying to ignore the way they were looking at me.

I don’t know how to describe it, it was like they were seeing me for the first time, really seeing me. It was as though the alcohol actually helped them see clearer, the way they looked at me, I just can’t describe it. But for a split second, I actually believed they might feel the same about me. Of course that was completely foolish of me to think but just for a moment I allowed myself to succumb to the fantasy.

“I uh…I wanted to talk to you about something.”

When they said that and stepped closer to me, I’m sure I saw a hint of nerves in their eyes and my breath caught in my throat. But then it got even stranger.

“Oh, you’ve got something…let me.”

Then they reached forward and brushed something off of my cheek. We’ve touched accidentally before but I think that might be the first time they’ve done it deliberately. I wish I could accurately describe to you the way their fingertips felt as they brushed against my skin but I’m not sure there are enough words in the English language. Or in any of the other languages I can speak.

There is a saying I recently learnt which comes close. It’s an Irish term “a chuisle mo chroi” which essentially translates to “pulse of my heart.” That’s what they feel like. They are a part of what keeps me alive. It’s the only thing I know how to say in Irish, but it seemed fitting.

Anyway, they never did get to tell me what it was they wanted to say because someone else joined us on the patio and soon we all called it a night.

I’ll never forget the look in their eyes though.

All my love,

Spencer

***

Hey mom,

Another letter for you. I realised recently I’ve spent so much time talking to you about a certain person and I don’t remember the last time I asked you how you were doing. I’m sorry for that. How are you? How is Bennington? I hope to get time to visit you soon.

We had a pretty rough case recently, one that affected someone on the team personally. I won’t give you a prize for guessing who.

I’ve never seen them like this before, I was genuinely scared they would do something to jeopardise their place on the team. They lost an old friend in the process and I’m scared it might tip them over the edge, that there may be no coming back from this for them.

It’s not my job to comfort them though, as much as I wish it was. I’m sitting here at my desk after everyone else has left for the night writing this letter so I don’t go after them. Because they already have a person to be their shoulder to cry on, and it isn’t me.

I think I’ve failed to tell you that before and maybe I just didn’t think it was necessary or maybe it was a deliberate choice, I��m not sure. They already have their own a chuisle mo chroi which makes my feelings even more redundant.

Thus far I’ve done a really good job at not allowing myself to dwell on these feelings except for when I write you these letters. But lately they’ve started to consume me and I don’t know how to make it stop.

They are all I think about. When I’m at home alone, I imagine what they are doing and it makes me sad. They’re probably cooking dinner for their partner, maybe cuddled up on the couch watching a movie or maybe even in bed…I won’t finish that trail of thought.

It hurts me to see them everyday and know they will never be mine. I value our friendship too much to risk losing it all over these feelings I have for them but I worry those feelings are slowly destroying my soul. They’re right there, right in front of me and I can’t have them. I never will. They will never be mine.

I’m sorry about this. If you’re reading these I hope my words don’t make you worry. I’m fine, really, I’m just having a hard time right now. But I’ll be ok, I always bounce back don’t I?

I love you mom, speak soon.

Spencer

***

Hey mom,

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, things got really crazy. I won’t go into detail because I don’t want you to worry about me but…

…you aren’t reading these letters, I know you’re not. So I suppose it doesn’t really matter if I go into detail.

I was abducted. Kidnapped. We arrested a cult leader and failed to see that one of his disciples worked for the FBI. She took Garcia, and I tried to save her, because you taught me to be the kind of man that does that. But it resulted in her taking me too.

If you are, on the off chance, reading these, I need you to know I’m ok. I’ve got some bruises but I’m mostly ok. If it wasn’t for the team I might not have been, the cult wanted to make me their three hundredth victim.

For as long as I live, I will never forget the way they looked at me after I was unstrapped and helped down the steps. They ran to me, panic written all over their face and if I didn’t know any better I might actually think they had tears in their eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re ok.”

They sounded as worried as they looked and then their hand was on the side of my face, gently stroking my bruised cheek.

“I thought…I didn’t think…”

It was as though they physically couldn’t get the words out. I was so hyped on the adrenaline of coming close to death that I didn’t realise it until later.

“I’m ok. I’m ok.” I assured them although I’m not sure why I was doing the assuring.

And then they flung their arms around my neck and pulled me so close, held me so tightly for a moment I couldn’t breathe. I was so close I could feel their erratic heartbeat and they buried their face into my neck and panted against my skin.

For a second I was dumbfounded. I just stood there frozen. But eventually I wrapped my arms around their waist relished in the moment because I knew it wouldn’t last. And as expected, a few seconds later we were torn apart by someone calling our names.

Is it wrong that I’d go through that whole ordeal again just to get them to hold me like that one more time? Is it so utterly absurd to say that almost dying was worth it because having them embrace me like that erased all of the fear?

I felt safe, mom. In their arms I felt safer than I’ve ever felt before. But it only hurt worse when they let go and pretended nothing had happened, following the rest of the team away.

Unrequited love is the worst feeling in the whole world. You’d think I could handle it given everything I’ve been through. But honestly, I think it’s worse than anything any unsub has ever done to me. I really don’t know how more I can take, mom.

I don’t know if I can keep working with them and being in love with them.

Love always,

Spencer

***

Hey mom,

You’ll be pleased to know I’m feeling a little better since my last letter. It’s been a few months I know, and I know I promised I’d write every week and I’m sorry.

I thought my writing down my feelings was helping but it started having the opposite effect. I decided to take a little time away from the BAU after everything that happened with the cult. I came to an agreement with the bureau to split my time between case hours and teaching classes at the university. I’m doing much better, my head is clearer and I’m not pining quite as much as I was the last time I wrote to you.

It’s still hard sometimes but I’ve learnt to live with the fact the object of my desire will never love me back. We remain friends, best friends, but that’s all it will ever be. And I’m ok with that. It’s just how it was meant to be.

I’ll come and visit you soon, I have more free time when I’m teaching. I’ll be sure to bring you some books and there’s a great little cafe I’ve discovered near the university that sells the best…

“Hey man, what are you doing?”

A voice snapped Spencer away from his trail of thought and he lifted the pen from the paper and looked up to see Luke Alvez standing over his desk.

“Oh, just writing to my mom.” He quickly scrambled to hide the letter from prying eyes even though most people struggled to read his chicken scratch, as Garcia dubbed it.

“Isn’t she living in DC now? I thought you said-“

“Yeah she is.” Spencer cut him off, stuffing the paper in his satchel. “But I uh…I forget all the things I want to say to her when I visit so I like to write it down.”

Luke was smiling at him, the kind of smile that Spencer often found himself lost in. The kind of smile he’d spent hours writing about in great detail to his mom.

“I’d like to meet her.” He leant against Spencer’s desk, seemingly not in a hurry to go anywhere.

“You would? Why?” Spencer frowned which made Luke chuckle.

“You talk about her so much I already feel like I know her. It would be nice to meet the woman behind the genius.”

Spencer didn’t think having his mom meet Luke was a good idea. Although even if she read his letters and remembered them, he’d never specified who he was talking about. But his mom knew him so well, surely if she saw the two of them together she’d be able to tell exactly how Spencer felt about Luke. Spencer wasn’t known for his subtlety. And even in her less lucid moments, Diana Reid was extremely astute.

But nonetheless Spencer found himself nodding.

“Uh…ok. Sure. I guess that wouldn’t be a problem.” He frowned a little. “I’m going to see her this weekend if we don’t get pulled away somewhere.”

“I’m in.” Luke beamed brighter than Spencer had ever seen.

“You uh…you don’t have plans with Lisa?”

Luke chuckled, leaning forward and patting Spencer’s shoulder.

“I know you’re not here all the time, Doc, but have you been living under a rock? Lisa and I split up months ago.”

Spencer hated the way his heart seemed to do somersaults in his chest at this. How had he missed that? Had he been so consumed in the overwhelming unrequited love he was feeling that he’d completely missed what was going on around him?

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Spencer hoped his voice didn’t give away how unsorry he was.

“It’s ok, these things happen. She wasn’t a, uh, good fit for me.” His eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke but Spencer didn’t know why. He chose to ignore it. “You heading out?”

“Yeah, sure.” Spencer nodded, grabbing up his things and shutting off his computer before following Luke over to the elevators.

And he only had a handful of heart palpitations in the process.

***

The weekend rolled around without a case and as promised, Luke accompanied Spencer to visit his mom.

Spencer made a point of not hanging out with Luke outside of work, not unless the rest of the team were involved anyway. Over the years Luke had asked Spencer to grab a beer with him on multiple occasions but Spencer always made up an excuse as to why he couldn’t go.

He knew it was only due to the fact that he was the only other guy on the team around the same age as Luke. Although that did offer up some confusion as to why he still asked even after Simmons joined the team. Maybe because Matt was married with kids, Spencer didn’t have anyone to go home to, much like Luke, until he’d met Lisa anyway. And once he met her, the invitations stopped coming.

Luke picked Spencer up at ten am on the dot, just like they’d planned, he even brought Spencer coffee from his favourite coffee shop down the street with the perfect amount of sugar. If he wasn’t already smitten with this man, he would have been now.

Luke drove and they listened to the radio as they travelled to Diana’s facility, giving Spencer something to focus on that wasn’t the close proximity to Luke he found himself in. They made idle chit chat, it wasn’t lost on Luke how Spencer wouldn’t look at him.

When they pulled up in the parking lot of Diana’s facility, Luke cut the engine and turned to face the younger man.

“Does this make you uncomfortable? If you don’t want me to meet her I can just wait in the car.” Luke questioned him.

“No, no I can’t ask you to do that after you’ve driven me out here.” Spencer shook his head.

“I don’t mind. It’s nice to actually spend some time with you outside of work.” Luke felt his cheeks burning as he spoke.

Spencer frowned, noticing the way Luke reddened although he wasn’t sure why.

“I’m just worried what state she might be in. I don’t want you to meet her if she’s erratic. And as of late she’s been like that quite a lot. She barely even knows who I am half of the time.” Spencer changed the subject.

“How about I come in with you and I’ll hang back while you see how she is. If she’s not in a good state I’ll wait in the car.” Luke’s blush faded and he smiled at Spencer.

“Yeah, I guess that works.” He nodded, quickly getting out of his seatbelt and exiting the car.

Luke followed him across the parking lot and up the front steps of the building. He noticed the way Spencer clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides as he walked and it only then occurred to him what this must be like for him. It must take its toll, never knowing what state he would find his mother in, never knowing if his own mom would recognise him until it was too late.

Luke prayed in his head that today his mother would know who he was. He didn’t want Spencer to suffer that embarrassment with him here to witness it.

Spencer went on ahead into the day room while Luke hung back. He’d never been overly religious, not the way his parents were anyway, but what took place next might just make a believer out of him after all.

He watched Spencer tentatively approach the woman Luke recognised from the photograph on his desk. She was in an armchair in the window, her head in a book so much like her son. She looked up when she heard movement, looking up at the man standing before her. A few seconds passed before she suddenly leapt to her feet, throwing her arms around Spencer.

“Spencer!” Luke heard her call. “Oh how I’ve missed you.”

The size of the smile that broke out in Luke’s face could only be beaten by Spencer’s own. Spencer hugged his mother back while Luke watched, his heart feeling like it was floating out of his body. When the hug ended, Spencer turned to Luke with a smile and motioned him over.

“Mom, this is my friend Luke. Luke Alvez. We work together at the BAU.” Spencer tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible as he introduced Luke.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mrs Reid, I’ve heard so many things about you.” Luke held out his hand which Diana shook.

“Luke…” she mused as the three of them took a seat. “I’m sure Spencer has told me about you but the name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Sure it does mom, I’ve told you about the whole team.” Spencer hated using his mothers memory loss to his advantage because she was right, he’d never mentioned Luke, not by name anyway.

“Well if you say you have, you must have.” She gave Spencer a look that told him she didn’t believe him.

“How are you finding it here in DC?” Luke spoke, sensing a strange tension between mother and son and trying to ease it.

“Oh you know, dear, a nuthouse is a nuthouse, no matter the city.”

“They prefer the term psychiatric facility, mom.” Spencer rolled his eyes.

A nurse came over and offered them drinks. Diana opted for chamomile tea, they didn’t encourage coffee drinking for the residents, while Spencer and Luke both took the caffeine route. Once the three of them were alone, Spencer spoke again.

“This is the best I’ve seen you in a long time. You seem…clear.” He said for lack of a better word.

“I feel clear.” Diana nodded with a soft smile that Luke thought was the spitting image of her sons. “The doctors say it won’t last but it’s a nice reprieve.”

“I can only imagine.” Spencer sniffed a little and Luke couldn’t help but reach out and place his hand on his arm.

Spencer turned to look at him, unshed tears behind his eyes. Diana looked between them, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she watched the way her son and Luke looked at each other.

“Friends you say?” Diana spoke up, causing Luke to quickly pull his hand away.

“Yes.” Spencer nodded, swallowing thickly. Really good friends.”

“Some might even say best friends.” Diana shook her head in amusement. “Sorry my memory is not what it used to be. So you met at work?”

“Yeah, I’ve been at the BAU for almost three years now.” Luke answered.

“What did you do before?”

“Mom, it’s not the Spanish Inquisition.” Spencer scolded her.

“It’s ok.” Luke laughed with a shake of his head. “Before the BAU I worked for the Fugitive Task Force, man hunting I suppose. And before that I was in the military, the 75th Rangers.”

“You served overseas?”

“Yeah, I did a tour in Iraq and a couple in Afghanistan.”

“Your father was a soldier.” Diana didn’t ask, she stated. She always had been good at reading people.

“He was, yes.” Luke smiled, so many things about Spencer making so much sense now he’d met his mother.

“Ok, can we stop grilling my friend now?” Spencer interjected.

“It’s not grilling, Crash, it’s getting to know him. He’s clearly important to you.” Diana spoke like she was speaking to a small child.

Spencer couldn’t help the blush that spread to his cheeks and he tried to hide it from Luke and looked down at his lap.

“Yeah he’s important to me, he’s my friend.” He emphasised the last word.

“Do you know you’re the first “friend” Spencer has ever brought to meet me?” She used air quotes around the word friend and Spencer wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“Mom!” He cried in exasperation.

“What? It’s true.” She shrugged, not perturbed by Spencer’s tone.

Thankfully their drinks were brought over and Spencer managed to direct the conversation onto literature and what she’d been reading lately.

Luke took a backseat just content to listen. Spencer wouldn’t make eye contact with him anymore and Luke didn’t know why. He thought he was missing something but he just couldn’t pinpoint what.

After a few hours of conversation with Diana she started to get tired and the boys decided to let her rest. Spencer excused himself to use the bathroom before the drive back into the city.

Once they were alone together, Diana’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Luke.

“So you must be the one.” She clapped her hands together in excitement.

“The one?” Luke’s brows knitted together.

“The one in Spencer’s letters!” She looked so pleased, not deterred by Luke’s obvious confusion. “Oh I must have hundreds of them detailing this mystery person. But it has to be you. You’re the best friend my son is in love with.”

Luke felt his breath hitch in his throat as he stared at the older woman in shock. The combination of the schizophrenia and altzeimers often made her confused, that’s all this was. Luke just had to be delicate in how he approached this, not wanting to call her crazy to her face.

“Uh…I don’t think so.” He tried to laugh it off. “Maybe you’re mistaken?”

“Oh no, Spencer is very clear in his letters about being in love with his best friend. A member of the team.” She leant forward, her elbows on her knees.

“Uh…he might be talking about JJ. Definitely not me.” Luke shook his head.

“My son is incredibly smart.”

“He is.” Luke agreed.

“If he were talking about a woman he would have said she. But in every single letter he used gender neutral pronouns. He wouldn’t do that unless…” she trailed off, eyes sparkling at Luke.

“Spencer isn’t…I uh, I don’t think that he’s…” he scratched the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry, dear. He never came out to me either. But a mother always knows.” She tapped the side of her nose.

Before Luke could reply, not that he knew how to reply, Spencer returned, offering Luke a smile.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” Luke nodded, pushing himself to his feet. “It was nice to meet you Mrs Reid.”

“Oh please,” she smirked, standing and pulling Luke into a tight embrace. “Call me Diana.”

Spencer hugged his mom goodbye and soon the two were leaving again. They made it out to the front of the building and as Spencer was heading towards the parking lot, Luke’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Your mom told me about your letters.”

Spencer’s back straightened and he took a breath before he slowly turned back to face Luke.

“Letters?” He tried to buy himself some time.

“Yeah.” Luke took a few steps closer to him. “The ones where you told her about your best friend who you're in love with.”

“Ah.” Spencer sighed. “Those letters.”

“I tried to tell her it was probably just JJ.” Luke looked suddenly serious, his jaw set.

“Uh yeah.” Spencer nodded. “You got me. I’m in love with JJ. Really awkward, please don’t tell anyone.”

Spencer turned to leave again but then Luke’s hand was circling his wrist, keeping him in place.

“You didn’t use gender specific pronouns.”

“So?”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Spencer shook his head. It was no wonder Luke was so good at getting criminals to confess to their crimes because he was making Spencer want to confess too.

“Yeah, you do.” Luke shrugged. “You never told me you were gay.”

“I…I’m…not?” Spencer sighed, scrunching his nose. “Bisexual maybe? I don’t really know what I’d call it, which I guess is why I’ve never told anyone.”

“So you’re in love with a guy, who is your best friend and that you work with?” Luke clarified.

“It would seem so.” Spencer felt his heart start to race. “And I inadvertently outed myself to my mother and then to you. So it’s a good day to be me.”

“I mean that only leaves three people.” Luke’s brow furrowed. “You’re not that close to Matt, and I would think Rossi was too old for you.”

“Would you believe me at all if I said it was Anderson?”

“Your mom didn’t know my name.” Luke seemed to ignore him, stepping even closer to him. “Your mom didn’t know my name because you never mentioned it did you? You spoke about me but never said my name.”

“Fuck,” Spencer hung his head. “Fine, the secrets out, ok? God I didn’t even think she was reading those letters!”

Luke swallowed and raised his hand to cup Spencer’s jaw, lifting his face so he would look at him.

“What are you trying to say, Spence?”

Spencer tried to ignore the way his heart did a cartwheel at the way Luke was touching him and the use of his nickname.

“Please just keep in mind that I don’t want to lose you ok? You’re one of my best friends and I don’t want things to be weird between us.” Tears swam in his eyes.

“Just say it.” Luke croaked.

“I…goddamnit,” his first tear fell. “I’m in love with you, Luke. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Luke kept his hand on Spencer’s face.

“Because I just ruined our friendship, right?”

Luke surprised him when he laughed, moving even closer still to him.

“You know you aren’t the only one who talks to their mom about their secret crush?” Luke chuckled with a shake of his head. “Only I’m not shy in mentioning his name.”

“You…I…I don’t understand.” Spencer mumbled.

“Yes you do.” Luke laughed again. “You’re a genius right?”

“Quantifiably.”

“Well then, what are the facts telling you, Spence? All those times I asked you out for drinks, the way I can’t keep my eyes off of you when you’re in a room. The way I can’t stop looking at your lips right now…” Luke inhaled sharply. “What do those things tell you?”

“I…I have a theory.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hmm.” Spencer nodded.

“Wanna test it out?”

“Most definitely.”

Luke chuckled again before closing the small space between them, and still keeping his hand cupped around Spencer’s jaw, he kissed him.

Spencer whimpered against Luke’s lips, his knees buckling beneath him. The kiss was gentle but filled with so much longing it almost took Spencer’s breath away.

It was only brief and when Luke pulled away he was smiling at Spencer from ear to ear.

“I love you too, by the way.” He shrugged.

Spencer made another whimpering sound and couldn’t help himself but lean in and kiss Luke again, slightly deeper this time. Luke wrapped him in his arms and held him close.

“A chuisle mo chroi.” Spencer mumbled against his lips.

“What is that?” Luke replied.

“It’s Irish. Don’t worry about it.”

Luke chuckled, kissing him again before leaning his forehead against Spencer’s.

“Mi vida.” Luke whispered, stroking back Spencer’s messy hair.

“I speak Spanish, you know? Mi vida means my life, romantically speaking.”

“Of course you do.” Luke’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

Spencer let out a small sigh, running his fingers up Luke’s strong bicep, over his shoulder blade and over the base of his neck.

“A chuisle mo chroi. The pulse of my heart.” He confessed, causing Luke to kiss him once more, so passionately Spencer felt as though he was floating.

From the window, Diana smiled to herself as she watched the two men on the sidewalk, her heart soaring for her son. She continued to watch for a moment or two, a warm, fuzzy feeling enveloping her as she leant against the window frame and whispered to herself, “A mother always knows.”

#spencer reid #luke alvez #ralvez #spencer reid x luke alvez #ralvez fanfic #ralvez fanfiction #ralvez fluff #criminals minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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snack-o-ween · 1 year ago

Text

[This is being scheduled in January 2023.]

Title: Beyond The Veil

Co-Author: Adreamermusing. Transformative Works Policy: Not known as of this posting.

Co-Author: ashesashesshackles. Transformative Works Policy: Not known as of this posting.

Complete or In Progress: This fic is a work in progress. Dated: This started to post in May of 2021, and the current chapter [as of scheduling this post] was posted in December 2022.

Chapters: Currently 17. Word Count: Currently 76,748.

This currently comes across as much more of a Second War AU from the divergence point of Sirius not going to the Ministry at the end of Book 5 than what I'd consider a relationship focused fic. There's plenty of scenes in other characters' points of view, there's some in-scene death and murder, and Sirius/Severus just doesn't feel like the only thing happening. I don't say this as a drawback or anything, and I'd actually say that's part of why I'm recommending it. Example from Chapter 16, in a Draco point of view scene:

You’d think that a school that focuses so much on Defence Against Dark Arts as a subject would have books on how to get rid of Accidentally Acquired evil objects.

When it comes to the Sirius/Severus ship, there's pretty standard hate that gets some Unresolved Tension, and then, there's sort of a realisation that this is sexual tension. Sexual intimacy leads to a degree of panic, in part, because Severus still associates Sirius' touch with danger or a fight. It may not sound very compelling here, but I like that the hate's still there and Severus nips this in the bud before he has to kill Albus.

Excerpt from Severus making up his mind to end things, at the end of Ch 11:

But he had undergone worse losses than this for the cause, and he was sure Black would happily be relieved that he hadn’t done anything more than he had with disgusting old Snivellus. It was for the best, he decided, firmly ignoring the pit of dread in his stomach.

“Sirius,” he whispered to himself, committing to memory the way his name felt on his tongue, like the incantation of a forbidden spell. It was alright here, in the shabbiness of his Muggle house, far away from where anybody could see, to say the name for the last time.

Severus decides to tell Sirius about his end of the First War switch and how he had more of a role in Lily's death than most Order members know, and while some of his confidence that Sirius won't want anything to do with him is self-loathing and not thinking he'll survive long enough for this to matter, Sirius does back off and outright says that he doesn't want to pursue or act on his feelings at least once. I know it's not permanent, but there's still something very satisfying about this. Just having feelings or attraction doesn't magically fix things, you know?

To me, the progression of their relationship lies more in the working together portion to look into horcruxes where Sirius and Severus build a certain amount of trust than any sort of culturally-Romantic gestures. (While I don't mind Hate to Love arcs that feature hate sex, this doesn't fall under the 'x number of sex scenes until we caught feelings' angle I've seen in some other fics.) I wouldn't say that the two hurt/comfort scenes are the big, definitive moments of realisation for Sirius and Severus, but they're not exactly nothing.

Excerpt from the first hurt/comfort scene, in Ch 11:

Snape pointed his wand at Sirius and began the incantation. It was a song, Sirius realised, astonished. It sounded like a lullaby, soothing and wistful and pure, but with the heaviness of a prayer. Sirius watched as the spell spooled out of Snape’s wand--golden, gossamer strings of magic dancing in the air, spinning and weaving a mesmerising tapestry of pure healing.

Sirius immediately felt a childlike sense of sleepiness overcome him, and he resisted the urge to close his eyes. The wound on his shoulder was knitting together and closing. The shining, golden strings were swaying in the air to Snape’s lilting voice, reminding Sirius of an old wizarding tale of fairies dancing their way down to the Earth on a moonbeam in the night.

(It's also a nice touch of world building for Severus creating things.)

The authors have indicated in the end notes that there's three chapters left, so it is possible that some of these impressions of when things shift for Sirius and Severus aren't set in stone. In hindsight, these hurt/comfort scenes might carry more importance, or there might be post-Second War scenes that sort of undo the resistance to admitting anything internally, for example. I suppose it'll depend on exactly how canon divergent the ending of the war will be.

[The only thing that's a bit :| is that I was skimming through the comments and saw someone post that this is the only good Sirius/Severus fic they'd ever read. ...Really? It seems like such a back-handed compliment, and I definitely find those kinds of comments irritating. (Like, I understand that there are people who won't be interested in any of my Sirius/Severus content at all, but also... That's the main ship. How did that commenter even find this then?)]

#recs #fanfic rec

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incorrecttowerofgodquotes · 2 years ago

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Gundam: The Witch from Mercury Episode 6 Review

- I can no longer be happy

- Poor Elan. I knew he wasn’t going to live to the end but he DIED in episode 6! Maybe I’ll get attached to the new one, but I won’t ever forget Elan 4. Also there’s the fact that Elan isn’t a clone, but instead a kidnapped child (probably from Earth) who’s been forcibly experimented on. Those Peil technology guys make Guel’s dad look like a saint.

- Elan was really going through it this episode. His mental break down in the Pharact was really sad. He just wanted to have his own life. He wanted his own birthday! Though at least Suletta gave him a small bit of happiness before his death. The two really had a bond, and when Suletta finds out what happened I don’t think she’ll be able to recover. Really gotta wonder how long she stayed sitting at that bench waiting for someone who would never arrive

- Also real Elan is pretty adorable as well, though I also want to punch him and shove him in a locker. I’m going to guess he’s the real leader of Peil Technologies and the witch Prospera was referring to. I can see him taking up the second arc big bad spot.

- As for Suletta. The Eri clone theory is becoming more and more real, but it got even more horrifying. Bel drops that the events of the prologue happened 21 years ago, which is weird cause Eri was 4 at the time and Suletta is 17 now. That would mean Suletta is really just an Eri clone, in fact, she’s not even the first. There are twelve GUND bits in total, Aerial, and eleven drones. Those eleven drones are probably failed Eri clones that got five nights at freddy’d into a machine. This is corroborated by Elan’s GUND vision of multiple young girls firing at him.

- Prospera now seems to be an old, bitter woman trying to get revenge for her husband’s death and her daughter’s robotification. While normally I would agree, the fact that she’s been cloning her daughter and then turning the failed ones into robots is fucked up. She probably doesn’t even see Suletta as human, just another tool to get her revenge. I also doubt she’ll treat Miorine well even though she also hates Delling.

- Now let’s talk about best boy Guel once again. Dudes reenacting one of the hit slice of life shows in the past five years, Yuru Camp. His homeless arc has started and he’s already thriving. Dude is so fucking stupid I love him. Our Earth House group is probably going to find him one day sitting in the woods like a gay cryptid and Suletta’s gonna want to take him back. At least his dad is nice(?) enough to keep paying for his tuition, though that’s probably just so he could use him again if Guel ever ends up looking promising again.

- Miorine is such a supportive wife, it’s great. She’s caught between wanting Suletta to act in benefit for the both of them, while also wanting Suletta to enjoy her school life. She’s understanding that Suletta was forced into the marriage and wants to experience things at her own pace.

- I’ve seen some people get mad that Suletta has been getting ship tease with the guys, but like, Suletta hadn’t heard of gay marriage until she arrived at the school and was suddenly engaged. Just like how Miorine doesn’t deserve to be forcibly married, neither does Suletta. If she wants to experience love on her own, then she should be allowed. And for anyone scared of being queer baited, Utena did the same exact thing and it ended fine.

- Now for the future, I’m not quite sure what will happen. Shaddiq will probably get a couple episodes to shine and Guel will join the Earth squad but other than that… *shrug*

- The final thing I want to leave off on is the theme of birthdays. Eri’s entire life was destroyed on her birthday and Elan never had one. Birthdays are something that humans created and celebrated, so to not have one makes one feel less human. Since Miorine and Suletta’s engagement will be finalized on her 17th birthday, I’m expecting Prospera to start some Red Wedding shit. It’ll probably happen either at the end of the cour or the end of this season (if we’re getting two)

#happy birthday to you *dies*#nobody celebrate guel’s birthday I beg of you #gundam witch from mercury #gundam #g witch

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demigodreading · 3 years ago

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Saving Mini Benson Pt:1

Request: From @youngjusticeimaginesus: Hi, I was wondering If maybe you'd be willing to do a oneshot where Olivia's daughter gets kidnapped by Lewis instead of Olivia?

Summary: That’s right my favorite peoples... This is going to be a two part mini series because there was no way everything that I needed to say could be done in a one-shot! I won’t go into much because I don’t want to give it away but please note THIS PART IS A DOOZY! The next one may be worse but still this arc made me cry in the show and I cried writing this

Characters: Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, Amanda Rollins, Nick Amaro, William Lewis, Donald Cragen, Reader

Relationships: Olivia Benson x Daughter! Reader

Warnings: MAJOR Violence, Guns, Cigarette Burns, Episode Spoilers, Alcohol, Smoking Weed, Mentions of Shootings, Death, William Lewis, Mentions of torture... (I Think that covers it but if it doesn’t please let me know)

Word Count: 2320 (Like I said.. there was no way this was gonna be just a oneshot.)

And with that all being said: Let’s jump into it.

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Olivia and her daughter rarely fought but when they did neither one wanted to admit the other one was right. Olivia loved and hated her daughter for being so similar to her. Even now as she watched the miniature version of herself stalk the interview room the exact same way she would send her heart racing. Usually the similarities would result in a smile but not today. Today Olivia’s vision was a deep red as she confronted her daughter.

“Y/N you were caught smoking weed underneath the bleachers during class! So not only did you break one rule you broke two!” Olivia shouted, folding her arms.

“Wow glad that you know how to count,” Y/N mumbled looking out the window.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Look mom I just don’t get what the big deal is? It was one joint. One class!” Y/N retorted, throwing her hands up, “I am a straight A student who has a full ride scholarship to Harvard.”

“Yes, because Barba stuck his neck out on the line for you and put in a glowing recommendation,” Olivia spat, “What you did was careless. You could have ruined everything that was given to you.”

“You know for once in your life could you ever be fucking proud of me! I do everything that I can do to make you proud and yet at the end of the day I am never fucking good enough for you.”

“That’s not…” Olivia went to argue but was interrupted by Cragen opening the door.

“Olivia we got a problem. I need you right now,” He said, then shut the door without waiting for an answer.

“Just go save another poor unfortunate soul mom. Don’t worry about your daughter. I’ll pick up my own pieces like I always do,” Y/N said, wiping tears from her face as she grabbed her coat.

Y/N stormed from the room before Olivia could stop her. She made her way through the precinct eyes trained to the floor as her mother’s voice rang out, “You better head straight home Y/N! We are not done having this conversation and you are grounded!”

Choosing not to say anything, Y/N merely raised her hand in the air flipping her mother off before the doors shut with a loud slam behind her. Tears made dark spots on the concrete as Y/N made her way back to their apartment. Even the noises of the constant car honks and people screaming couldn’t drown out the voices in her head today. Failure. Waste of space. Stupid. No one. Unwanted. Unloved.

It was the repeated song that kept her feet moving forward until she finally placed her key in the lock. She threw her bag by the kitchen island and threw her keys on the counter. She was about to turn on the living room light when a noise caught her attention.

“Hello? Hello?”

As she turned the corner her vision was filled with the sight of a gun pointed right at her temple. A smirk crossed William Lewis’ face as he looked at Y/N, “Ah welcome home Little Benson. I was hoping that it would be your mother who was walking through the door but I guess you will have to do.”

Y/N went to scream but instead Lewis jammed the gun against her throat, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One small slip of my finger and your mom will be left with a new kind of art all over her walls.”

Y/N let a single tear roll down her face before Lewis’ gun made contact with her skull and the whole world went black.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Olivia had already tried to call Y/N twice but it kept going straight to voicemail. The last known location had been their apartment so at least she had the sense to head straight home. The guilt in Olivia’s stomach was insurmountable. Watching her daughter explain that she never felt like she lived up to her standards. Olivia had promised herself when she had Y/N she would never end up like her mother. Yet there she was shaming her child for one mistake. Y/N was more than just a good kid, she was excellent. She was smart, beautiful, humorous, kind, and so much more. She was everything Olivia could have ever hoped for. Knowing that her daughter thought she wasn’t proud was the worst pain she could have.

After the third call Olivia finally decided to leave a voicemail, “Y/N I know you are mad but I need you to know something. I am proud of you and will always be proud of you. You are the best daughter and the most amazing human. I was rough on you early. Please let’s talk through this. I’ll be home soon with your favorite Chinese. Just don’t do anything stupid? I love you.”

When she hung up the phone she placed her head in her hands and let out a large sigh. Fin placed a reassuring hand on her back, “Liv, it is going to be okay. She is just being a teenager.”

“No Fin, you should have seen her. It was like I was physically taking her heart out and ripping it in front of her. I should have never said those things. I didn’t mean any of them… I was just upset.”

“She knows, they always know.”

Olivia merely shook her head and began to gather her things to head home. She walked out of the precinct without a goodbye and headed down the street to Y/N’s favorite Chinese place. They knew what she was going to order as soon as she walked in the door asking where Y/N was. Liv pushed off their question and scrolled through her phone as she waited for the food. Y/N’s phone was still off giving Olivia an eerie feeling as she finished the walk to the apartment.

Once inside she noticed Y/N’s bag on the floor and her keys on the counter. There was a sudden rush of cold air that made her notice the window that was open to the fire escape. She shut it quickly and then moved to Y/N’s room. The door was still open with everything the way she had left it that morning. Once her calls were unanswered Olivia opened the window again crawling onto the fire escape. Sometimes Y/N would go to the roof to watch the sun slowly crawl behind the buildings.When she reached the top however she was met with an unsettling emptiness.

Olivia reached for her phone to call the only person who was able to calm her anxiety lately, “Amaro, Y/N isn’t here. I can’t find her. What if something happened to her?”

“She probably just went to a friend’s house to get away,” Amaro replied stirring the contents of his drink, “She will be back in the morning just to relax. Sleep off the anger and come back with a clear head tomorrow.”

Liv pondered this suggestion over and over deciding what she should do. When the silence became too long Amaro interjected again, “Liv, I’m serious. You two had the biggest blow out that I have seen in awhile. Give her time to be mad at you and think. If you smother her she might only push further away from you.” She thanked her partner for the advice and then shoved her phone back in her pocket taking a sweep of the roof once again. Finally she slowly made her way back to the apartment shutting the window with a slam before locking it. Olivia wandered over to the kitchen moving the cereal that covered the top of the fridge to get to her secret cupboard. From the opening she pulled a large bottle of her favorite red wine. She popped the cork and decided to forgo a cup taking a long swig directly from the green glass. A large sigh escaped her lips as she plopped down on the couch going over the events of the day in her head.

As the contents of the bottle slowly drained till there was nothing else Olivia realized her fears were all coming true. She was becoming her mother. A woman she never once wanted to be. Three empty bottles later she finally curled under Y/N’s sheets crying into her pillow until she finally was able to fall asleep.

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The next morning when Y/N did not return and her phone was still shut down all bets were off. Olivia was furious but more importantly she was terrified. Something was horribly wrong. Her morning was spent talking to Y/N’s two best friends and searching their houses for her. When that search was unsuccessful Olivia went to the school hoping Y/N had gone there. However, she had been absent all day and there hadn’t even been a call to excuse her from the day.

When the morning bled into the afternoon Olivia was running around the city to all of Y/N’s usual hangout spots. The search of the library told her that Y/N hadn’t been there in over a week. The local bakery hadn’t seen her in three days. The coffee shop where Y/N always bought Olivia’s coffee when she came to see her at work had seen her two mornings ago but nothing since then. Even the old lady that had Y/N over twice a week to help her with errands and chores around the house hadn’t seen her.

It was dark by the time that Olivia fell into her desk chair at the precinct. With her head in her hands she let the tears fall. A whole day was gone and there was still no sign of her daughter. If she had been kidnapped they were running out of time and losing it quickly. The longer she was out there the longer the person had to get away with whatever they wanted.

The squad huddled around in Cragen’s office looking at Olivia curled over her desk. Rollins was the first one to speak, “I bet you Lewis has something to do with this.”

“And what makes you think that?” Amaro asked, “There are plenty of people who could have a vendetta against Liv.”

“It’s just a feeling.”

“Yeah well have you ever considered the idea that maybe Y/N just ran away,” Amaro retorted.

Fin, Cragen, and Amanda all turned towards Amaro, shocked. Cragen was the first one to speak, “I know you haven’t been here long Amaro but this isn’t Y/N. Something is horribly wrong and we are going to figure out what is going on. Fin and Amanda go check out Lewis’ usual hiding spots. I’ll take Liv through her apartment once again to see if we missed anything.”

“And me cap?”

“Amaro… you stay here and set up a tip line,” Cragen responded curtly and then they all disappeared to find where Y/N had disappeared to.

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Y/N woke with a jolt as she felt cold water splash her face. She was met with Lewis staring only a couple inches away from her face. He grinned and grabbed Y/N’s chin as she tried to look away, “Well well there. Looks like someone is finally awake. Feeling thirsty?”

Y/N nodded her head yes waiting to scream as he curled his fingers around the edge of the duct tape. As he was about to pull it away he jammed a gun against Y/N’s throat, “Make any noise and I will shove this gun straight down your throat.”

Finally when he pulled the tape away Y/N spit right in his face, “Just shoot me already if you are going to threaten me with it.”

“And miss out on all of our fun Mini Benson. I think not. There is plenty that I want to do to you before then.”

Y/N began to panic as Lewis lit another cigarette. She remembered the way the others had burned against her chest and sides. She had lost count after twenty perfect circle burns and after the second pistol whip to the face she had passed out a second time, She couldn’t go through all of that again.

“My mom knows I am missing and she will be out looking for me. Just let me go and she will never have to know that you did it. Please,” YN begged.

“What is she going to think about that bruise on your face? Or the marks on your skin? I can’t let you go… plus I know that you both fought before you came home. I bet you that she thinks you just ran away and are leaving her,” Lewis chuckled.

“How.. how did you know that we fought?

“This lovely voicemail your mother left you,” Lewis said, placing your phone against your ear.

Tears began to run down Y/N’s face as she heard the apology her mother had sent her. Damnit! Why did I have to fight with her? We could have avoided all of this. Is the mantra that ran through her head as Lewis slammed the phone against her head and threw it at the wall.

“She isn’t coming for you,” Lewis snickered.

“Please… just let me go. I will do anything.”

Lewis pulled his gun and placed it against Y/N’s scalp, “You are still bargaining with me? Really. We are way past that baby.”

“I am the daughter of an NYPD detective. A decorated well known detective. My mother, her partner, her squad, the entire department will hunt you down. You think that you’ve put people through hell. It will rain back down on you.”

“You know what… let it rain,” Lewis said and then hit Y/N once again making her world go black for a third time.

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superhero--imagines · 4 years ago

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Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here!

A/N: If I had to give this part a title, I would title it “(Y/N) and their human friends” Also I lied. This part was too long so it might be another part (or two) before we get to the Bella Arc.

* “You know you would be pretty good looking without the glasses.” Lauren says twirling a strand of hair and ignoring the algebra worksheet in front of her.

* Yeah that’s kind of the whole point

* “Contacts kind of freak me out.”

* You’re expecting a snarky response but instead she nods.

* “It’s the whole sticking your finger in your eye thing right, I totally get that.” She’s watching you with such inquisitive eyes, it almost you uncomfortable.

* It’s been a few months since you started school, you’re almost at thanksgiving break. So far you feel like you’ve assimilated well, and you have a good balance between school and caring for your animals, but it’s situations like this that totally throw you off.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what did you get for number 5?” Jessica asks, you’re thankful for the distraction.

* “I got X = 8” Jessica confirms she got that too, and moves onto the next one

* You three are in the worlds most unlikely group. You didn’t even know Lauren was in this class you usually just pair up with Jessica.

* “Hey, me and a some people from the volleyball team are going to Port Angeles, you should come with, we could give you a makeover.”

*You wonder what the other angle here is

* It didn’t take long for you to realise that somehow, even with the ugly-duckling routine, the Cullen’s were at the top of the social hierarchy.

* Part of their popularity was probably because they didn’t really seem to interact with anyone outside of their own social circle. Which just made them all the more desirable.

* “I don’t know Lauren, I would have to ask Esme if it’s okay.” Though you can already bet Rosalie isn’t going to like this.

* “Oh cool, just let me know!” Lauren smiles, it turns out the act of considering her invitation was enough to placate her.

* For once you’re actually glad Edward’s waiting for you outside of your class when the bell rings.

* “Edward read that girls mind.”

* “It’s always straight to business isn’t it. No, ‘hi Edward how’s it going?’ Or ‘How was your class, how has your morning been treating you?’ It wouldn’t hurt you to make some small talk” You give him a look, and he returns it with an expectant expression. You sigh.

* “Hi, Edward how was your class?” You plaster on a smile, and he returns with a smile of his own.

* “It was fine. A little repetitive, we’re reading “to kill a mocking bird” in English.” You nod, offering a consoling pat on the shoulder

* “That sounds super boring,” the books great and all, but you’re guessing he’s already read it like 30 times by now. “Hey Edward,”

* “Yes (Y/N),” He nods, hiding his grin behind his hand.

* “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

* “Of course, anything for you.” He grins openly now.

* “Would you mind telling me what that girl Lauren Mallory is thinking so I can know why she invited me,” and not Jessica her good friend. “to hang out?”

* Edward loses his smile.

* “The varsity members on the volleyball team suggested it, they think it’s a shame they couldn’t have got you on the team since you just moved here.”

* Unexpected but not the worst. You’ve really been half assing it in PE so you’re surprised they even want you.

* “Lauren-she thinks you could be-“ a lopsided smirk twitches onto his face. “in her words- ‘two super good looking best friends’ “

*oh. So she just wants a pretty b*tch squad?

* “Maybe I’ll go with them then” you were scared they were going to force you to show them the Cullen’s house and introduce you to everyone, or leave you stranded in port A as some kind of prank or something.

* Edward stops you

*“you can’t be serious” he has his eyebrows scrunched together

* “Why not?” Nothing more natural to fitting in then hanging out with your classmates. Unless- “if you’re worried about any accidents don’t, I know they all look healthy but they eat a lot of carbs. Way too starchy for my palette.”

* “It’s not that-“ he gets that brooding-existence is suffering look. “You shouldn’t trust humans too much, they’ll let you down.”

* Well what’s that supposed to mean, but before you can ask he’s already walking to his class.

* Well whatever, at least Emmett will tell you a good joke to take your mind off of Mr. Eternal Damnations ominous words.

* Too bad when you get inside he’s not here, instead Mike Newton perks up when you walk into the room.

* “Hey Eleazar, how’s it going?” You still have a hard time adjusting to use Eleazar’s name as your own. Apparently they came from a time when last names were only for nobles, so he offered you his first name instead.

* “Hey Newton, any plans for this weekend?” You take Edward’s advice and start with small talk. Mike Newton smiles, you guess he’s kinda cute, all soft cheeks and baby blue eyes

* “No I’m completely free!” Weird how he’s so enthusiastic about being alone, he must be one of those “relish time alone” types. Good for him.

* “Everyone needs some time alone sometimes.” He deflates, oh man you guess that’s the wrong thing to say.

* He looks like he wants to say something to you, but then Emmett sits beside you.

* “Can I have a swig from your water bottle?” You hand it over

* “Making out with Rosalie make you thirsty?” Emmett cracks a grin

* “It’s that whole bookworm-soccer mom get up, it gets to me yknow?” That’s actually pretty funny

* “So what she’s the Velma to your Freddy?” When the reference doesn’t sink in you rephrase “the nerd to your jock.” He grins again.

* “I think I might join the swim team just so I can see her wear my letterman” that’s actually pretty cute

* “You should do that, I’ll cheer you on at your swim meets” Emmett grins.

*”I’ll hold you to that”

* School life goes on like it always has.

* Weeks pass, marked by tests, homework assignments and projects.

* You actually kind of become friends with Angela, Lauren, Jessica, Connor and Mike.

* “So like, are you and Cullen close?” Mike asks. You and the group are over at Tyler’s house using his fire pit to roast marshmallows. The others are invested in another conversation but you can tell by Lauren’s subtle head tilt that she’s eavesdropping.

* “Which one?” Mike gets flustered at that

* “The one in our grade.”

* “Hmm, well I’d say Alice and I are kinda close, but-“

* “N-no not her,” he clears his throat. “The other one-Edward”

* “Oh, Edward’s my best friend.” The answer slips out automatically.

* “I-Is that why you’re staying with the Cullen’s?” Jessica asks. Everyone’s blatantly listening now, the only one who seems uncomfortable is Angela.

* You sigh. You know everyone at school is probably wondering about the weird relationship. Jessica’s just the only one brave enough to ask you.

* “I mean, it might be.” You’re sure, Edward’s friendship with you is the reason everyone was so quick to accept the living arrangement. “But I actually met Car-I mean Dr. Cullen before I met the others.”

* “How does that work?” It’s Connor who pipes in this time.

* “Well-“ you sigh you really don’t want to do this but at least your sob story will make you seem less suspicious. “So Eleazer and Carmen, they’re my parents, but they’re not my birth parents.”

* You tell them how your parents passed away in an accident many years ago, and how Carlisle had been your Doctor at the time while you recovered. He worked with you for a long time, and you’re pretty sure he wanted to adopt you, but the agency liked Carmen and Eleazer better, probably because Carlisle already had so many adopted kids.

* “Still, Carlisle stayed in my life as my doctor and a family friend. Then I met Edward and the rest of the Cullen’s and... the rest is history...I guess.” You’ve found it’s best to mix a little bit of truth into the lie, though really all of that was mostly what happened.

* Everyone looks testy eyed, Angela is holding back tears, and Lauren hastily wipes her away so no one can see. You wonder if maybe your powers leaked out a bit while you were telling your story.

* “Dude... you’re so strong.” Tyler claps a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a hug.

* “Ah, it all happened a long time ago, I’m mostly over it now” You tell them all about your Coven in Denali, and how you have two families now, how you don’t regret anything. Well, the only thing you regret, is not staying human, but you can’t mention that so you fake a smile instead.

* Connor breaks out a bottle of vodka he stole from his mom, and pours a shot for everyone

* “To (Y/N)” everyone raises their glass, and not for the first time you feel the urge to cry but no tears escape you.

* You’re a lot closer to everyone after that. You even start sitting at their lunch table every so often.

* In fact the others follow your lead and assimilate with their classmates with ease. Rosalie joins the school book club, and very loudly debates Jane Austen’s to whoever will listen.

* Emmett follows through and joins the swim team. Jasper starts hanging out with some wood shop kids, you’ve caught him arguing about the superior wood in between classes with his new friends. Even Alice joins the art club.

* You try out for the dance/cheer team, it’s the only thing you don’t have to hold back in. Also you’re a great base, you could hold everyone on the team up single handedly during stunts. But you won’t know if you made it until summer vacation

* Everyone seems to be assimilating well, everyone except for Edward

* “You can’t expect me to trust these people (Y/N), not when I know everything they’re really thinking.” You roll your eyes

* “I’m not saying you have to be their best friend Eddie, I’m just saying it looks super suspicious that all the Cullen’s only hang out with each other and refuse to get to know anyone else.” You shove a text book into his chest, and he scoffs

* “It wouldn’t hurt to make some small talk.”

* And so Edward joins your group of human friends, much to the joy of your female companions and dismay of your male ones.

* Life is still strange. But it’s good.

* When you’re surrounded by your new friends, it makes you feel - almost like you’re human again

* And then everything falls apart.

* It’s almost summer vacation. You’re excited, maybe you can go to the beach again soon, and you wonder if it will be alright to take a trip to Denali to see your Coven. You’re pretty confident you made the spirit squad so you’ll have to pencil in camp somewhere. You held back, but just enough by your own parameters to make the bottom end of Varsity.

* You’re at your locker, when Rosalie, and Edward show up. Quickly followed by Emmett, Jasper and Alice.

* “Oh hey guys, you wanna go on a hike tomorrow it’s supposed-“

* “You have to leave.” You’re surprised when it’s Emmett that says this. Kind, jovial Emmett holds a grave expression.

* “What, why-“ for a second you wonder if the Volturi has finally come to get you. It’s been at least seven years since your transformation, it’s about time they started thinking about you.

* But then you notice everyone staring, the quiet buzz of phones vibrating only detected by your super hearing. People are always staring, especially when you’re all together. but this time you notice they’re not staring at the six super models gathered in front of the lockers.

* They’re staring at you.

* “There’s a video of you going around,” Jasper says, and Rosalie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

* He hands you his blackberry, and the grainy image of you come into focus.

* It’s a YouTube video

* You’re in the locker room, your (Your Color Skin) in full view under the fluorescent lights. You’re wearing your underwear, and your abs are on full display. You’re Grey PE uniform shirt is limp in your hands, you remember this, you got extra laps as a penalty and as a result, you were running late for class, you were alone in the locker room

*well you thought you were alone.

* Your body is literally perfect, the way you’ve always dreamed, but you feel white hot shame rise in your throat like acid.

* Your hands shake as you scroll down to see the comments

* ‘Damn who knew they had a body like that under those dorky sweaters’

* ‘(Y/N) Eleazar: Best body Forks HS 10/10 would f*ck’

* ‘Hot body, if only they ditched the glasses, and started wearing some tighter shirts’

* And the comments go on, there’s at least a hundred. You hold your cardigan a little closer to your body. You don’t have the courage to turn around. You can already imagine them staring at you, picturing what they saw in the video transposed onto your body

* “I’m sorry, I didn’t see this coming until it was already happening-“ Alice touches your shoulder and continues her apology but you don’t hear anything.

* You want to cry, you want to be angry. But all you feel is shame. And the worst part is, you didn’t even do anything wrong. So why do you feel so ashamed?

* “Hey, look at me.” Edward grabs your face in his hands, your amber eyes meet his.

*”Snap out of it.”

* Oh, your powers are leaking through.

*Your gaze turns to your foster family, all of whom sport equally uncomfortable expressions.

* You take a deep breath, and imagine reeling in your emotions, imagining them receding back into a locked box, just like Eleazer taught you.

* You need a calm mind right now.

* “Are you fine now?” Edward asks, his hands still on your face. You nod, resting your hand on top of his

* “I’m good.”

* “Good, because we have to get you out of here.” He’s moved his hand to your arm, about to tug you back home when you pull back and shake your head.

* “We can’t do that.”

* “What do you mean?” Rosalie hisses, her hand curls around your wrist “we have to leave NOW.”

* “No think about it, they’re right.” Jasper says, his eyes meeting yours. At least someone’s on the same oage

* “Think about it Rose, if I leave now with all of you it’s going to look weird.” Normal 15-17 year olds wouldn’t think to handle the situation on their own, especially not entitled rich kids like the Cullen’s.

*She seems to have gotten it because her hand retreats to her side.

* “Well what should we do then, I’m not letting you walk around here with everyone-“ she cuts herself off, a deep frown creasing onto her face as her teeth dig into her bottoms lip.

* “We need to call Carlisle or Esme, they’ll pretend they saw the video from someone else and file a complaint with the school.” You take a deep breath, and imagine the locked box in your mind. Your emotions held carefully within.

* “Until then we all need to pretend like it’s not a big deal.”

* “No way in hell am I doing that!” Emmett growls. “I’m going to rip that fucking peeping Tom piece by piece.”

* “Not all of us need to pretend,” Alice says, her gaze somewhere far away, flicking between futures. “Only Edward, Rosalie and I do.” Her gaze lands on you.

* “You need to go to your class like normal,” a hint of a smile curls onto her mouth. “Everything’s going to work out fine.” Edward’s focusing on Alice, reliving her vision.

* “Do you think you can manage being alone?” Edward asks, you don’t have the next class with any of the Cullen’s. You’ll be on your own.

* You catch Jasper and Alice whispering to each other, but pay it no mind. Flirting even in the middle of your entire world crumbling down.

* You take a deep breath, picturing the locked box over and over, making it a visual mantra.

* “I can get through a period.” Everyone disperses, and Jasper walks you to your next class. Edward wanted to, but Jasper insisted.

*”You’re always hogging them, give someone else a few minutes Edward.”

* You’re almost near your class when Jasper talks to you.

* “Hey, I don’t know if I should tell you this”

*You wonder if he’s going to offer to beat up the person who took the video, or if he’s going to offer you a comforting word.

* “Alice told me you’re going to raise some hell on a misogynist in there” he gives you a wicked grin, his incisors sparkling.

* How is it that every vampire seems to say what you least expect to hear and yet, it’s exactly what you need in the moment.

* He holds out his fist, and you bump it with your own. A grin curling onto your face.

* “Hell yeah I am.”

* You take your usual seat in Spanish like normal. You sit in the front row in this class, diagonally from Jessica. Mike and Angela sit somewhere in the back.

* You just need to focus and keep your emotions in check for 45 minutes. You visualize the box, calming yourself separating the mind and body.

* How did the saying go... a calm soul resides in a calm body?

* “-Zar, Miss. Eleazar!” Your eyes pop up to the teacher, the locked box falling out of grasp.

* “Yes, sorry?” The teacher sighs, you look to the white board to see you’re going over the answers to the worksheet. You’re about to provide the answer for the number you’re on when the teacher cuts you off.

* “I know you might be focused on body building, but in my class you need to focus on the material.” There’s a scattered laugh that fills the room, but your blood runs cold

* “Excuse me?”

* And that’s when your teacher knew he fucked up. He stutters over himself, the sentences overlapping

* “-really you should take it as a compliment-“

* “Oh you think I should take it as a compliment that someone recorded me without my consent while I was changing?”

* The rooms pin drop silent. Your teacher is sweating.

* “Hold on now- I think you’re being a little dramatic don’t you think” A smirk curls onto his lips. “You were in your underwear, it was really no different than wearing a swimsuit” he’s got this smug smile, like he’s right.

*Honestly you were ready to put everything behind you and move on if he just apologized. It’s gross that a teacher is watching videos of a student changing, but what would you have done in his situation if a co-worker showed you.

* “It’s all about perspective, a positive per-“

* But not anymore, you’re not in a forgiving mood, especially not for an idiot like this.

* “No it’s all about consent.” All the anger and despair you’ve been holding back comes flooding out. “When someone wears a swimsuit they’re consenting to show skin and be seen, but I wasn’t contesting to being seen when I was changing in the privacy of the locker room.” You don’t stop for air, your voice trembling

* “And another thing, I wonder how the school administration will feel knowing the same faculty that’s supposed to make students feel safe and enrich their lives is watching creepy videos-“ you stop when you meet your teachers eyes, tears streaming down his face.

* Oh f*ck

* You look to your right, finding your classmates in a similar state, holding back tears.

*So this is what happens to humans when they come in contact with your power.

* You try to visualize the box, but it’s too far now. And all the crying people around you don’t help.

*You need to get out of here.

* “Pathetic, not even an apology for your gas lighting.” She shake your head as confidently as you can, grabbing your bag with trembling hands.

* You walk quickly, maybe there’s a mountain you can climb and wait it out on. You’ll text Carlisle and let him now what happened. It shouldn’t be too-

*” Hey wait!”

* You’re already in the hallway when someone call out to you. You turn, expecting it to be Angela or Mike. Never in a million years would you expect her to be standing there in the middle of the hall, her hand hastily wiping away a stray tear.

* “Mr. Peterson’s a f*cking jerk.” Jessica sniffles, walking quickly to catch up with you. You don’t miss the fact that her bags not slung across her back.

* She must have left a minute after you did. You haven’t thought about her as a friend. Not a real one at least. She’s kind of like hot sauce, it’s fun when it’s around, but if it’s not then that’s not a big deal.

* So to see her here, the first to follow you out, rambling about wether you want to get frozen yogurt or pizza, it warms your unbeating heart.

* “Hey Jessica?” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes swinging up to you.

* You haven’t been fair to her. But you’re going to change that.

* “Thanks for being my friend.” And she smiles at you, her arms wrapped around her tight. It’s not the fake ones you see often the ones she throws to Lauren when she’s asking for Jessica’s opinion on an outfit, or when Connor tries to copy her homework’s. it’s a genuine smile.

* Before she can open her mouth, you hear two more shouts from the hallway.

*Angela and Mike are jogging down the hallway to catch up with you. The latter carrying a bright pink backpack in his hand.

* “Geez Jess, the least you could do is take your bag before you go bolting out of there” Mike’s panting as he holds out her bag. You don’t miss the blush ghosting her face.

*Looks like she still has a crush on him.

* “Hey, are you okay?” Angela asks, and you wish you could cry as you nod.

* “Is it weird that I’m kind of happy right now?” And the three of them smile, before wrapping you into a group hug.

*They all smell terrible. Jessica smells like boiled broccoli, Mike is like the overwhelming stench of fat mixed with sugar, and Angela.. Angela’s probably the worst. She’s sickeningly sweet mixed with a healthy dose of starch.

*it’s disgusting. You have a hard time believing any of the Cullen’s would lose their minds when they’re this close to any of them.

*still, even with the repulsive stench, it’s nice. You haven’t felt the body gets of another human in a long time, or heard the quiet thump of their beating heart. Even the odor is nice, it reminds you that they’re human.

*And for a second it’s easier to pretend you’re human too, just like them.

* “Dude why are you so cold?” Jessica groans, breaking the moment. She taps your arm but doesn’t pull away.

* “While we’re asking questions, Mike how much axe do you use?” Angela’s eyes are watering as you both laugh.

* “Like you’re one to talk, I can smell your strawberry shampoo two hallways over!”

* You watch the three of them untangle and start walking to the back exit from the gym.

* “So where do we go now? We can’t stay here.” Angela says

* “I was thinking maybe a coffee shop, if we take out books we might pass for having a free period” Jessica pipes in

* “Oh, how about the Arcade? A buddy of mine works there since he’s already on break from college, I don’t think he’ll minds us hanging out there.”

* So this is what Alice meant when she said everything was going to be okay.

*Your Human Friends were going to save you

*You haven’t forgotten Edward’s warning, someone did break your trust and let you down.

* But that’s what it means to build friendships, you open yourself to being hurt, and so do they.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what do you think?” Mike asks, and they all turn around to notice you’re not walking with them.

*You try not to smile to wide. You don’t want to scare them off now.

* “I think there’s something fun about an arcade during the day, no lines.” You say, walking a little bit faster to catch up with your friends.

Tag list: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show

#twilight imagines #twilight reader insert #twilight headcanon #twilight imagine #twilight saga #twilight #Edward Cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen imagine #Emmett cullen #Emmett cullen x Rosalie hale #rosalie hale #Jasper hale x Alice cullen #Edward Cullen x y/n #Edward Cullen x you #midnight sun #superhero—imagines

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Better To Be Friends Than Competition (Lindsey x Reader)

Author’s Note: This Technically wasn’t requested, but @literaryhedgehog and i had a blast writing this. It’s the Harry Potter AU. Basically, reader is a muggleborn who really wants to be a chaser, but maybe there’s a better position for her on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. This is the beginning of what will be a multi-part series following the building romance between two amazing characters and how our golden octet help them out along the way.

@sleep-deprived-athlete

“Alright, you’ve all been told the rules and had the chance to warm up. So let’s start by dividing into groups. Anyone who wants to be a seeker follow Mia there to the far side of the field. Beaters to the left with Foudy. Keepers to the goalposts with Hope. And chasers with me up top,” Brandi said with a wave of her hand, kicking off of the ground and heading towards where her group was going to meet.

You snuck a glance to either side of you as you also kick off and head to your position, trying to guess who out of the eight students around you is going to be your biggest competition. Surely you thought more people would have wanted a chance at a spot on one of the best teams at Hogwarts. Tryouts had been packed for the last two years.

You wondered which drill Brandi was going to start with as you approached the group (said woman was idily tossing a quaffle lightly in her hands as she talked to another one of your competition). For the last 2 years it was always a set of passing drills, where would-be chasers played a very complicated game of catch up and down the pitch.

Maybe those tryouts were supposed to be private, but how else could you prepare for them if you didn’t know what to expect?

Quidditch was honestly a really weird sport. Well, American football made less sense, but you hadn’t exactly studied the rules as extensively as you had Quidditch. Like, the game literally would not end until someone caught the snitch. According to Quidditch through the Ages a game had literally lasted for months. You remembered watching a tennis game that lasted for four days before, but generally the muggle sports you grew up with were more consistent in how long each game took.

“Oh yeah”, you thought, watching the beaters line up across the pitch, “and there is also a ball charmed to try and knock people off their broom. That’s not normal.” Though it was something your dad found hilarious.

Sports were always something the two of you could talk about, even before you found out you had magic. He loved the fact that you loved football as much as he did, and was thrilled by the fact that you had enough talent to play it in your primary school.

Though with your hand eye coordination you had done better with cricket, and baseball the few times you had a chance to play it in gym. So when you had joined the wizarding world you naturally had gotten into quidditch. Learned everything you could about the game so you could give him detailed play by plays about the games when you sent owls home.

At this point you were dying to play. You were too short to be a beater or a keeper, but you knew you could be a chaser. You could catch like nobody’s business, and you had at least half of the tactics in The Beginner's Quidditch Playbook memorized. You were going to be the best damn chaser Hogwarts had ever seen.

“Hey space captain, you ready for this?”

“What?” You froze, heat flooding your cheeks at being caught not paying attention. You slowly turned to face the new presence.

You knew the girl. Well. You knew of the girl (it was impossible not to know about the very pretty blond girl). She was in your house and year (and therefore in your dorm as well as all your classes) but the two of you had never really interacted before. She seemed to already know everyone and everything when she got to Hogwarts, so it didn’t really seem like she was looking for friends, and it was hard enough trying to figure out your new life without having people look at you strangely when you didn’t know a word they used. Not that Lindsey, you thought that’s her name anyway, had done that, but other purebloods did. It was easier figuring things out on your own to start, and by the time you did, you and Lindsey had already established yourselves in different friend groups. Was her name Lindsey? A Slytherin in your year was always calling her strange nicknames, so it was hard to tell.

“The drill. Are you ready for the drill space captain?” The girl asked again.

“Yeah, but I’m not a captain. I’m a second year, like you,” You said softly, your eyebrows furrowing. Maybe that was a wizard saying, but you had no idea what she was talking about. Your heart also dropped just a touch because if she thought you were a captain then she had absolutely no idea who you were.

She shook her head with a giggle (showing off her dimples). “My dad says that’s what muggles call a person with their head in the clouds,”

You cocked your head to the side, your brain running a million miles an hour to try and figure out what she meant. But then it clicked. “Oh you mean space cadet,”

“I guess,” She shrugged, seemingly unbothered about the correct verbiage.

The whistle blowing brought both of your attention back towards Brandi and the first set of would-be chasers beginning the crossing drill. You coughed to hide a scoff when Lynn Williams raced at breakneck speed up the pitch, and released the quaffle at least 30 feet off where the chasing captain had instructed.

You shook your head at the play. It was too sloppy, too open and it would never connect well with JJ and Alex up top.

“Not impressed by what you see?” Lindsey asked, her eyebrow quirking up (trying very hard to pretend she wasn’t interested in your answer. You were her competition after all).

“Not after Alex basically destroyed the same course last year. She’s got an 85% accuracy rating on goal and nearly 60% of her shots come off of left crosses. Williams isn’t getting high enough on the pitch to provide an adequate pass,” You mumbled out quickly, wincing when Lynn made the same mistake on the way back, nearly sending her partner (a girl in the year below you named Mal) into the stands to catch it (though you were slightly impressed that Mal managed to grab it before it landed in the seats).

“Yeah, I see what you mean. Her throws tend to either go too short or too long. Even if it doesn’t go directly to her partner it at least needs to be consistent so during a game the person she’s throwing it to knows where to intercept it before the other team does,” Lindsey said, taking a hand off her broom to shield her eyes.

“She’s fast but it won’t help if she forces the other chaser off her line to provide service to Alex in front of the posts,” You huffed. Having her on that side would be a positioning nightmare. It left the team open and vulnerable to so many different attacking options.

“I am not entirely sure what that means,” Lindsey said, smirking as she looked sideways at you, “but it sounds like you don’t think she’s competition, which is good news for us!’

You opened your mouth to respond, only to be cut off by Brandi’s whistle. “Alright next pair up,”

You gulped and tightened your fingers on your broom “Guess it’s showtime,” You muttered, surging forward to the starting line.

“Good luck space captain, you’re gonna need it,” Lindsey called back towards you with a wink, taking the ball from Brandi.

You shook your head. You wouldn’t need luck. A fucking golden retriever could beat out the performance you had just whitnessed. As long as you didn’t fall off your brooms, you both would be fine.

***

You raced towards the hoops, reaching your arm out to pluck the perfectly timed ball out of its arc towards the ground. Okay, Lindsey was good. Really good. She HAD to have known how bad Lynn’s throws were, because hers were positively perfect. Your throws were good, but Lindsey had this way of arching the ball up through the air if a perfect loop so it practically fell into your hands. There was no way she didn’t practice over the summer.

You neared the posts, starting to make your u-turn to pass the ball back when a flash of gold caught your eyes. Before you really thought it through, the hand anchoring you to your broom had already lifted to snatch it out of the air on instinct. You had played cricket for most of your life- it was instinct to reach out and grab a ball that looked like it was about to fly into your face.

The next few seconds happened almost in slow motion. As your fingers closed around the cool metal, you realized just how far to your side you had to lean to reach the object, and how far off balance it had put you. Your legs crossed tightly as you flipped completely upside down on your broom, entirely unwilling to let go of the object you had just caught or the large quaffle still tucked tightly under your arm. Before you really knew what was happening, you were staring straight at the ground, your legs the only thing keeping you in the air.

“Holy shit, holy shit. Um, hey Lindsey?” You called, eyes on the ground below you.

“What?” You heard her call. You idly wondered why one of the captains hadn’t put a stop to this yet and put you out of your misery.

“Catch?” You threw the quaffle, well tossed it really, up into the air towards where you thought the other girl was. You knew it was going to be short, but also knew that she was going to catch it anyway. She really was that good. With your now free hand you reached up and grabbed the handle of your broom so you could pull yourself to it and rotate back to an upright position.

Only then did you look down at the tiny ball fluttering in your hand. The tiny, almost leathery, wings flapped like it was waving hello. You stared at it in awe, your lips ticking up. You had just caught the golden snitch. You never thought you would get to touch the snitch, much less catch it.

“Hey you” a voice called from the pitch behind you. You turned to look as Mia flew from where the seeker candidates were staring hopelessly at the sky around them to land on the pitch. “Get down here. Yeah, you on the drills.” She motioned down to the pitch, indicating where you should land, then turned her head to call over her shoulder, “Brandi I’m taking number 2.”

You quickly flew towards where she had pointed, shakily dismounting from your broom. You weren’t sure if it was fear, adrenaline or nerves, but your legs felt like jelly. You clutched the little ball in your hand so tightly that you were sure there was going to be an imprint in your palm later.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing in the chaser section?” Mia said, tucking her broom under her arm and throwing her hand up towards the group of would be chasers throwing a ball around at varying distances. (You tried not to wince when Lynn nearly pegged Mal in the face again).

“Um, trying to be a chaser? I was always a good forward so I thought it might fit?” You mumbled with a shrug, scratching the back of your neck with your free hand. a light shade of pink covered your cheeks. It was a little embarrassing how clueless you were with the magical world sometimes, and how even after being here for two full years, you still felt completely out of your depth.

“That’d be like using a cauldron as a teacup because they’re both the same shape. It’d work but what a waste!”

“I…- I have no idea what that means. I know I caught the wrong thing, and I’m sorry. I’ll leave now if that’s what you want,” You stuttered out, suddenly finding the way your shoe poked the pitch underneath you interesting.

“No, kid you misunderstand me. Look, you, what’s your name again?” Mia stepped closer, tilting her head as she looked at you.

“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n,”

“Right, Y/n, you could play chaser. You’d even be a decent one with a bit of work. But that’d be a damn waste of talent. You’re a natural seeker. I’m not upset with you for catching the wrong ball, I’m upset you weren’t over in my section trying to catch the snitch in the first place. Look at that lot over there, they still think it’s somewhere over the stands.” Mia stepped next to you and turned, gestured to the group of seeker hopefuls flying in circles near the Ravenclaw seats.

“Oh,” You breathed out, following her hand to look at the large group. They were squinting towards the stands and swooping low at whatever they thought they had spotted, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the snitch had been caught on the other side of the pitch and that Mia wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore.

“I’ve had a lot of practice spotting this ball,” Mia said, tapping the snitch trapped in your hand. “I was able to see it within about a minute of it being released, and have been watching it since. None of them saw it when it was on their side of the field, but you saw it instantly- even when you were focused on something else. That is a talent Y/n. Why didn’t you try out for seeker in the first place?”

“I didn’t know how to practice for it, and that-. It wasn’t like any of the other positions I have ever played,” You muttered, trying to cover your insecurity with a nonchalant shrug. It seemed like the position that required the most innate ability, and as a muggleborn you didn’t think you had any.

Mia nodded slowly looking at you. “Right,” she said, turning and mounting her broom, “I wanna run you through some drills. Come on.”

You blinked at the woman as she hovered in front of you. Your eyes darting between Mia and the object still clutched tightly in your hand. Where were you supposed to put it? Were you supposed to let it go?

You brought your palm up so it was level with your eyes and opened your hand, half expecting the snitch to fly away. It didn’t. It’s wings slowly unfurled and it waved docilely at you. Like an old friend.

“What’re you waiting for?” Mia called down at you.

“It won’t fly away!” You called back, looking up at the woman, who rolled her eyes indulgently.

“Of course not, it’s yours. You caught it, and you can watch it like some love-struck puppy later- stash it in your pocket and come on!”

***

You were having a fucking blast, even though you had no idea what you were in for when you joined the seeker group. Every year when you watched tryouts, you never payed attention to what they had to do, as you never thought you would have to do it. Even without the advantage, you were killing it.

You had been separated into pairs, just like the chasers were, but Mia had enchanted clear balls (the size of tennis balls) to randomly fly through the air. The balls were given a 5 second head start before you and your partner were allowed to race to catch it. Now this was familiar, the jostling of arms while racing after a ball and trying to prevent someone else from getting to it before you. Only once out of five rounds did your opponent get to the ball before you, but really, that elbow to your ribs was a red card if you’d ever seen one.

Then everyone took turns hovering in the air as Mia took ten of the enchanted balls and flicked them up haphazardly one by one every five seconds. The goal was to catch as many of them as you could before they hit the ground, even as they were sent up in different directions and some much higher in the air than others. You didn’t get all of them, but the seven you saved still seemed to impress the other seeker candidates who didn’t scowl. The second highest number saved was six, but that girl still congratulated you as you got off your broom, since “those last few of them went way further out than they did for me- and you were an inch away from that eighth one!”

You nodded, smiling at her, though you were probably more embarrassed than she realized about that eighth one. That one had been sent towards the far side of the field, where you looked up to meet Lindsey’s eyes. You had been placed perfectly to catch the ball as it started falling from it’s apex, but in the moment your hand faltered, and it brushed by your hand instead. You cursed and considered going after it, but then you flew back to where Mia had already released one of the last two on the other side of the field.

“Alright, for our last drill, we’re going to try to catch a real snitch again,” Mia said, pulling another golden ball out from inside her robes and holding it between her thumb and pointer finger. Its wings sprung out and flapped wildly, unlike the slow waving of the one in your pocket.

Everything in you wanted to catch the little golden ball. To tame it like you had the other one. For it to sit calmly in your hand and wave hello like an old friend.

“Isn’t the other one still out there?” The same girl asked, her head tilting to the side.

“It’s been taken care of,” Mia smirked and shook her head, sending a little glance in your direction. The girl stared at her wide eyed, opening and closing her mouth as though she wanted to say more, but Mia again cut her off with a stern glare. ”As I was saying, the first of you to catch it gets to keep it and also gets a boost to the points on their scorecard. Now line up,”

You all flew low on the pitch, forming a circle with Mia and the snitch at its center. Your eyes never left the frantically flapping little ball as you waited for her whistle to blow. There was no way it was going to escape you and if you got to show off for the would be chasers watching you near the posts, that was fine with you too.

***

“Congratulations Y/n! There’s no way you won’t get picked to be seeker,” the girl said, after Mia released you, promising that the results of the tryouts would be posted next week.

“Oh, um thanks-...” You said trailing off towards the end, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck. You didn’t know her name.

“Oh, sorry. You missed introductions at the beginning. I’m Savannah, from two years above you.” Savannah grinned at you, a bit ruefully. “You know, I thought this was going to be my year to nail the seeker position. But with you on the team, there’s no WAY we’re gonna lose to Slytherin. And Lloyd can stop looking so smug about the cup win last year.”

“The only reason they were better is because they had Amy and Sydney scoring. They won despite her and her stupid tactics. If Slytherin actually got a decent seeker then we’d be in trouble,” Lindsey said, throwing her arm over your shoulder and stepping to walk between you and Savannah.

“Carli’s decent, just distracted I think. She had NEWTS along with scouters and stuff,” you muttered, a bit defensively. You know you weren’t supposed to like the Slytherins- house competition and all that- but Carli’s strategy was pretty impressive. The recruiters certainly seemed to think so, you heard rumors that the recruiters from the Wasps and Arrows had a bidding war before the Harpies showed interest.

“Pshh it was just the Harpies recruiter. Even if they have Potter, she’d still probably tank their win streak. At least that’d help my team,” Lindsey snorted, shaking her head.

Your eyebrows furrowed. The Harpies were the second oldest team in the league, and since they recruited Ginny they had been on a tear taking down the Cannons and the Magpies in the final games of the European cup three years running. You thought Carli’s strategy would fit nicely in their ranks.

“I’m pretty sure there were Wasps recruiters and Magpies guys here too,” Savannah said to Lindsey. You noticed her eyes glanced towards Lindsey’s arm around your shoulder as she smiled widely. Lindsey dramatically rolled her eyes.

“Which team is yours?” You asked softly, leaning your head on Lindsey's shoulder as you trudged towards the locker room, ignoring Savannah.

“The cannons of course,” Lindsey said confidently. Savannah seemed to be hiding a smirk, and waved goodbye at you as she headed into the locker room.

“They’re pretty alright, but Ronaldo is a little too cocky for me. Sinclare and Potter together are a lethal combo for the Harpies and with Angerer in goal they’re like unstoppable,” You hummed thoughtfully. You also liked that the Harpies were an all female team.

“Ugh, you sound like Emily,” Lindsey said, rolling her eyes. “She and Sam are giant Magpies supporters.”

“I mean the Magpies have a 75% score rate while the Cannons are only at a 60. And Messi catches the snitch within the first hour 80% of the time, while Ronaldo’s catches take about 85 minutes on average,” you rattled off. So maybe you were a little too into statistics. At least your dad never had to worry about your math skills.

“No way, they’re super into team stats too! Maybe you can help me convince Emily and Sam that the Cannons are the best team!”

“But Emily and Sam, whoever they are, are right. The stats don’t lie,” You said with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, Emily is my friend in Slytherin and Sam‘s in Hufflepuff. I’ll introduce you later.” Lindsey said waving a hand in the air. “Anyway, the Magpies may have Messi, but the Cannons have heart! And isn’t that what really matters to make a good team great?”

You paused, pulling Lindsey to a stop beside you. “I know they don’t teach math here, but Statistics beat heart any day.”

Lindsey laughed and shoved you playfully to the side. “You haven’t even met them and already you’re ganging up on me.”

“I’m just stating facts. The hat almost put me in Ravenclaw cause I just love random factoids so much,” you smirked, tucking yourself back under her outstretched arm (it was just so warm and it made you feel… safe).

“Well, I’m glad you’re in Gryffindor. It's way better to have you as a teammate than competition Space captain. Now let’s go- if we hurry we can probably get to the library to work on that potions essay before curfew.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #literalhedgehog #harry potter au #hogwarts au #quidditch au

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enbylesbianism · 3 years ago

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ANY WAY THE WIND BLOWS: Simon Snow trilogy wrapped! (review)

Hi, there! It took me a while to finish this post, as I could talk about it for... a long time (not necessarily a good thing), but I got it! I like praise, so if anyone wants to tell me I did a good job... Also, I might edit this post later on. I don’t remember anything else I’d like to add, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I did after posting. My brain does not obey me. Anyways, off to it! By the way, I won’t give this book a real rating.

While this is a review on Any Way the Wind Blows, I intend on analysing some points of the overall series too. The book starts where Wayward Son left off, the end of the road trip, Simon and Baz having problems in their relationship, Penelope helping Shepard with his curse... and the whole situation of the NowNext vampires. Rainbow Rowell only seems to remember the first part. That leaves us with the second book of the series ignored almost completely, with the exception of Simon and Baz’s feelings as well as Shepard’s existence.

Don’t get me wrong, aspects of the book are mentioned, but never in a truly important way. Lamb, the Vampire King, is mentioned by Simon, but only focusing on his and Baz’s relationship, never about the fact that there are a bunch of vampires (supposedly ‘evil’) in the U.S. but I guess what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? I could count on one hand the times the NowNext vampires were mentioned (like, literally, this isn’t an exaggeration, I looked up ‘NowNext’ on the e-book and only got five results), all of them either being one of them considering telling someone else about it, then not following through with it, or dismissing it as a concern for Lamb. Which makes the plot of Wayward Son completely useless for the trilogy. Now, that wouldn’t matter as much if everything else had been properly developed, but we definitely can’t say that.

We are introduced to a brand new, poorly developed villain, Smith-Smith Richards, whose character arc is as ridiculous as his name. He’s one of the fake Chosen Ones that started appearing after the events of Carry On (and the only one to be mentioned and/or defeated, for that matter). It becomes clear that presenting as Simon Snow-ish is part of his brand, especially when Baz describes him as looking like the Netflix adaptation version of Simon, and that he was raised and guided by his uncle, who’s just... there. I don’t think it would’ve been hard to make him manipulating Smith-Smith into believing he’s the prophetic savior of the Magickal World, which would not only make both of their characters more interesting, but it could also serve as a parallel of Simon’s relationship with the Mage. Richards also has some special powers such as increasing a mage’s magic for a limited amount of time, but taking it away afterwards, as well as making someone immune from spells. It’s worth saying those aren’t skills that are usual in the Magickal World, or else there wouldn’t be so much confusion and shock from people (specially Baz and Penny, who would definitely have heard of something like this before), but we get no explanation on why or how Richard has them.

Then, we have the Salisbury’s. We, as readers, already know Lucy and Davy are Simon’s parents, making Ruth his grandmother. It’s noticeable that Rowell builds up to that discovery, by making Simon get along with Ruth instantly, him thinking about Lucy a lot etc. It makes us excited to read the part where they actually figure it out, to know how Simon would deal with that, him dealing with the fact that he’s the Mage’s son and the fact that, technically, he killed his father. I suppose that’s the point, but actually getting to that part was incredibly underwhelming. The way they discovered about Simon—being able to lift a family sword—hadn’t been mentioned or hinted at before. One would’ve expected Simon, who’s particularly interested in swords as it’s mentioned many times throughout the series, to notice a freaking Excalibur at the Salisbury’s place before.

And speaking of noticing things: when it’s finally revealed that Simon is Lucy’s son and the Mage’s heir, Baz pointed out the uncanny similarities between his boyfriend and the deceased Watford principal. “Those narrow eyes. That tilt of his head. I thought... I thought he’d learned it. Was imitating it.” + “Merlin, Simon, you even look like him.” (Any Way the Wind Blows, chapter 86) Simon was the Mage’s protégé for years and I assume the Magickal authorities knew that he was the one to inherit all of his money and personal belongings, but no one, in the whole British Magickal community, thought about them being related? I refuse to believe there were no conspiracy theorist teachers at Watford or that Mitali or even the Pitch’s alongside everyone who was against the Mage didn’t at least check to know if there was something behind those characteristics. Baz literally said (chapter 88), “I think it’s undeniable. I’d cast ‘Flesh and blood’ on them, but it would bounce right off of Snow (...)”, so there is a spell for that. Plus, we didn’t even have one whole chapter of Simon dealing with this information! The chapters (no more than five, out of ninety-one) were divided between Simon, Baz and Lady Ruth’s POVs. He’s the main character, so one would think he’d get more development.

Another point that felt rushed was the romance. While Simon and Baz’s relationship wasn’t, as it’s been a topic Rowell has explored for three books (we’re not counting Fangirl here, as their ‘participation’ on it was minor and their personalities weren’t as consistent as in the trilogy. Not that it is that consistent there), the others just felt like she wanted everyone to finish the trilogy with a pair. I’ll start with Shepard and Penny. There were fans who liked them together before Any Way the Wind Blows, but it wasn’t hinted at—it was more like a fandom thing. I personally like them as a couple, but it could have had development and, maybe, foreshadowing in Wayward Son. I mean, they did fight monsters during a huge part of a road trip together.

The next one I’ll talk about is Agatha and Niamh. I love them, don’t get me wrong. Actually, it’s precisely because I love them that I wish they’d gotten a better treatment. Niamh wasn’t introduced before Any Way the Wind Blows. I get why she wasn’t introduced in Carry On—it was interesting to see a character who wasn’t caught up in Simon and Baz’s drama during the school years—but a hint of her existence could’ve been left in Wayward Son. Agatha is an important character on it, and a mention of her father training an aspiring veterinary could’ve fit somewhere, as a hint, maybe. (Also, Lucy, the dog, being absolutely forgotten during this book when a lot of Agatha’s time is spent in a veterinary clinic...) Besides, we could get the vibes from them, but after they kissed, there was barely any content. We didn’t get them calling each other ‘girlfriend’ (or if they even like that label at this point), or the aftermath of the kiss, or a POV from Niamh. Or Niamh appearing the epilogue? If Agatha was taking care of the goats, I’m sure Niamh would have a part in that too. Still on Agatha’s character, but not on Niamh’s, it felt like Rainbow Rowell was setting up for aromantic and asexual Agatha, specially because of this quote: “It was like she'd pulled the feeling right out of my heart. I could have kissed her. (I still wish sometimes that I wanted to.) (That would feel like an answer to... the question of me. Then I could say, 'Oh, thats who I am. That's why I've been so confused.')” (Wayward Son, chapter 4).

And I was leaving the best (I need to be sure everyone knows I mean this sarcastically) of the romance topic for the end: Fiona and Nicodemus. It’s just... so forced and undeveloped. Not even because, to me, they’re both gay as hell. There was just... such a lack of development! I don’t think we had any interaction between the both of them before Any Way the Wind Blows. There was no foreshadowing or why would Fiona, a vampire hunter from a family of vampire hunters, would marry... a vampire! I’d already find it weird to see fanfiction of them as a crackship, but it’s canon?! Like, canon as in they’re going to get married and use Fiona and Natasha’s mother’s ring? Seriously, nothing will take from me that this is a lavender marriage (as I’ve already discussed with my best friend, which inspired this post of theirs.)

I’d also like to speak about a topic that’d been hinted throughout the series, especially post-Carry On, which is the criticism towards the Magickal Community in the U.K.. That criticism is very much embodied in Shepard’s character. It’s explicitly said that the British mages have some kind of supremacy towards other supernatural beings, such as vampires for example, gatekeeping literal magic. Up until relatively recently, mages with weak links with magic couldn’t attend Watford (and that’s a major plot point in the final book) and there’s a denial towards any other kind of magic except the ones that are part of their craft. Even within the Magickal community itself, there are more important families that are more likely to succeed, like Natasha receiving criticism for marrying Malcolm, as a Pitch. It felt pointless not to tackle the issues you’ve set up yourself in your own universe. Penelope has very strict morals related to magickal law and beliefs, something that she could’ve deconstructed, especially considering Shepard, her love interest, symbolises that. Another point related to that is, the trilogy is very clearly heavily inspired by Harry Potter, where many of those points are very clear (e.g. wizard supremacy in relation to other species, such as werewolves and domestic elves and the status quo that makes some traditionally magical families more influential than others, like the Malfoy’s vs. the Weasley’s), so it’s not an easily forgettable concept.

The series also had a lot of inconsistencies. The one I’ve seen talked about more often is Simon and Agatha’s... intimacy status, let’s call it that. Simon’s whole thing in the first book was that he struggled controlling his magic when experiencing intense emotions, which makes it hard to believe that he managed to have sex withount an... accident. Besides that, though, there’s this quote, “She (...) presses a kiss into my temple. No one has ever kissed me there. No one has ever kissed me anywhere but on my mouth” (Carry On, Chapter 27), but in Any Way the Wind Blows, when Simon’s about to have his wings cut, Agatha says, “It’s a strange feeling to look at someone’s chest and know it’s nothing to do with you anymore, but still to remember kissing every inch.” (Chapter 14)

So, we have established that Rainbow Rowell’s work, both character and plot driven, is flawed. “But we got the characters interacting for the closure of the series, at least!” Well... we got interactions between the canon romantic relationships, yeah. But besides that, we didn’t get much. There were no interactions between Agatha and Penny, or Shepard with Simon and Baz. Or Penny and her mother figuring stuff out. Or literally anyone with a therapist. And not gonna lie, the interaction we got between Baz and Dev was underwhelming, to say the least. Niall is nowhere to be seen, too.

Rainbow Rowell’s writing is beautiful: she writes poetic lines that make the book seem perfect at first glance, if you don’t think about it for too long. Her words are very shiny, but once you get use to that light and see what’s behind them, what’s between one shiny quote and another, it has so many flaws and plot holes that it reads like a first draft. There are many concepts in there that are genuinely good: the rest of the trilogy focused on the protagonist dealing with the trauma of being a child soldier instead of being entirely an adventure, Simon being unlabelled, a fake Chosen One that gives mages fake hope... Those are all good ideas, but so poorly explored that, despite being an entire book/trilogy, it still feels like a writing pitch or something among those lines.

I felt iffy about other things during my reading of the series, but they aren’t exactly plot points, so I’ll just list them below:

Mitali, Penny’s mom, including ‘discovering your bisexuality’ as a mid-life crisis thing

As I’ve seen people talking about biphobia/bi erasure in the books, I’ll be including this post that features both unlabelled and bisexual individuals talking about the topic (it isn’t my place, as a lesbian, to talk about this, that’s why I decided not to do so.)

Romanticising of Baz’s suicide (a.k.a. chapter 61) in the first book. If you’re not in a good place mentally, like I was when I first read Carry On, I hope you know that a kiss or romance doesn’t help any mental illness you or others might have. Don’t let anyone use your guilt to manipulate you. Paraphrasing Alice Oseman in their graphic novel Heartstopper, love can’t cure a mental illness.

Any Way the Wind Blows was... very horny. I can’t point out how this makes the book bad exactly, but it wasn’t something I enjoyed. One of Rainbow Rowell’s strongest skills is that her quotes, when loose, are good. They tend to be poetic and just beautiful, overall. But in the... explicit scenes, these skills were barely used, and I felt like I was reading NSFW tweets off of someone’s private account on Twitter. Besides, the first two books of the series weren’t written like that, so the change was very sudden.

The older people could’ve been more explored. Penelope and Mitali’s relationship and how similar the both of them are compared to each other, Daphne and Professor Bunce’s insecurities and why they believed in Smith-Smith, Fiona, Nico, and Ebb... Also, the Mage and Lucy. We could’ve had more on them, y’know.

The pop culture references. They made the book read even more like Twitter’s feed. Honestly, if I wanted to read prompts and nice ship content alongside memes from Twitter with some horny thoughts sprinkled all around, I would’ve opened the Twitter app. Or Tumblr, Instagram, whatever.

The POV switching felt lazy to me at times. It’s nice to know how different characters are experiencing that situation, yes, but sometimes, like during the discovery that Simon is a Salisbury, it read as if Rowell wanted to create tension, but couldn’t think of any other way to do it except the switching around.

Narrative wise, I think Simon and Baz should’ve spent more time broken up.

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mistystar022100 · 3 years ago

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More Bleach x Tokyo Ghoul au

More Characters

Orihime

Orihime is a natural one-eyed ghoul with a Rinkaku kagune. Orihime in cannon has basically one offensive ability that is broken for a whole arc and then rarely used for the sake of defense and healing. Personally, I thought she could have done more so I’m fixing this myself. Her kagune has 2 tentacles that she can use for offensive. Her Shun Shun Rika will be for the healing and shield, the attacking fairy will not be used often unless she needs a long ranged attack.

The reason for her being a one-eyed ghoul is so she could still eat human food. Her weird food combinations are a part of her character and I thought it wouldn’t be right to take that from her. It also doesn’t hurt that Orihime constantly eating food is a good cover for when the ghoul group hangs out at school. The fact that her brother was a human makes for an interesting dynamic as well.

As a half ghoul she can eat human food as much as she wants. The genetic combination may have messed with her taste buds, resulting in the strange food. She can taste it but the human food gives her almost no nutritional value. She has to eat like a ghoul in order to sustain herself.

Her main ability is in her regeneration, which is high even for a Rinkaku. Even though her kagune is fairly weak and easy to cut off, they grow back very quickly. This also applies to any injuries she takes; for example getting completely flattened by a speeding car will only take her a few hours to completely regenerate from; as long as she’s feed.

Her father was a ghoul and her mother was a human. Her mother left Sora’s father, who was a human, for Orihime’s father, a ghoul. Sora and Orihime were half siblings. After her father was killed by the CCG and her mother became an alcoholic, Sora took her and moved to Karakura. Sora at first feed her dead homeless people who he would find until he was approached by Isshin and the other adult ghouls in town who took that responsibility out of his hands. After Sora’s death, Orihime became very close to the Ishida and Kurosaki families. The fathers would make sure she was feed and the kids would make sure she wasn’t lonely.

Uryu

Uryu is an Ukaku type ghoul. His kagune is used in tandem with his quincy arrows for more projectiles and the speed boast is helpful for him to avoid attacks. Since Ryuken is still unhelpful with training him as a quincy, he at least trains Uryu as a ghoul. They still have a horrible relationship but at least they see each other now.

Since all the ghouls in town are relatively close, he is well aware that he and the Kurosaki kids are basically cousins. (Are they really though cause the relations between Masaki and Ryuken have always confused me? No matter, cousins is close enough) Mostly Yuzu (Karin absolutely does not admit to helping), convinces Uryu to visit the Kurosaki household every once in a while. Yuzu calls him cousin, Karin does when she’s happy and Ichigo only calls him that when he needs Uryu to listen to him. Isshin tries to make Uryu call him Uncle but Uryu has picked up some things from Ichigo and smacks him around when he’s being annoying; he will call Isshin uncle on special occasions though.

Due to how tight knit the ghouls in town are, Uryu is friends with the Karakura teens long before the story begins. Him, Ichigo, Orihime, and Chad sit on the roof during lunch at school. He tolerates the presence of Tatsuki and Keigo but finds them both annoying.

Once Uryu learns how to sew, he becomes the mask maker in town. Considering the small ghoul population he doesn’t have to make or fix masks that often but he does get annoyed when someone tells him they broke the mask. (All the individual masks will be another post, mainly because some still haven’t been decided)

Ryuken

Like his son, Ryuken is an Ukaku type ghoul. He still despises being “the Last Quincy” but accepts that he is a ghoul. He makes sure Uryu is prepared for the hostile world against ghouls but otherwise is still distant. Later trains Yuzu in Quincy abilities but only because Masaki asked him to before her death. He later passes this on to Uryu because he is not the best teacher.

Since he works at the hospital he needed a way to keep his kakugan from activating. Through the efforts of both him and Isshin, they annoyed Urahara so much that he made them an oral medication that prevents the kakugan from activating for a time. This is why the fathers can both work in hospitals and smell blood without people suspecting them. After all no one is going to suspect a ghoul is working at a hospital.

He provides the ghouls main source of food. When a body is in the morgue of his hospital, he contacts Urahara who replaces it with a cheap inflatable Gigai. This Gigai lasts just long enough for the funeral so the stolen bodies are never discovered. He first makes sure Uryu is feed, then Orihime and then gives the rest to the Kurosaki’s. If not enough dead bodies come in for the month then Isshin leaves town and hunts while telling others he’s at a medical conference.

Ryuken’s ghoul identity is “Plague Doctor” due to his mask. He is the second ghoul being suspected of owning Karakura town. An A ranked ghoul due to his speed and projectile weapons, he is SS ranked when working with Isshin “Flame Oni”. He hates how in sync they are but tolerates it for the safely of the town.

Occasionally joins Uryu in visiting the Kurosaki’s. He only stays for a short while to talk to Isshin about whatever important things are going on, such as taking care of all the kids. Yuzu is happy her Uncle is visiting, Karin doesn’t really care and Ichigo likes to call him out on being an emotionally distant father. Uryu proceeds to tell him to shut up, sometimes leading to brawls in the living room.

Chad

Chad is a human with a Kokaku type quinque. It’s 2 gauntlets that connect through a long chain in the middle which goes over his arms and back. It makes his fullbring even stronger when using it. It was made from his abuelo’s greatest kill as a CCG Dove (a S ranked ghoul).

He carries the quinque case in a disguise bag for 2 reasons. The first is that owning a quinque outside the CCG is illegal and he won’t let anyone take his abuelo’s gift to him. The second reason is that the quinque makes his friends very uncomfortable so he disguises it out of respect for them. He uses a larger version of his high school bag to disguise it and carries it or uses the straps to wear it like a backpack.

When he moved to Karakura he saw Ichigo in the original thug beat down at the bridge. After that day, Chad was attacked by a passing ghoul who thought he looked tasty (Ichigo was preoccupied in a store). Chad got out his quinque despite never being thought how to use it but was loosing and had heavy wounds from his enemies kagune. Ichigo came back to the sounds of fighting and attacked the ghoul with his kagune. After the fight Ichigo only then realized Chad had a quinque and froze in place out of panic. Chad put the weapons away and limped over to Ichigo to help clean the blood off him. Chad really didn’t care that his friend was a ghoul, especially since said friend just saved his life.

Ichigo took Chad home and after getting patched up by Isshin, Chad became an honorary member of the ghouls. He joined them for monthly training considering he had no idea how to use his quinque and the adults would not have this rarely kind human die. He got a mask so he could use his quinque and not get recognized. He also has a costume that covers most of his body considering a half-Mexican and half-Japanese man is very easy to recognize, especially outside of a big city.

He is just the best ghoul ally. He is a very quiet individual but he will not stay silent when someone (mainly Tatsuki) is insulting ghouls in front of him or his friends. For a man of few words his words can sure pack a punch.

Tatsuki

Tatsuki is a human and doesn’t have the best image of ghouls. After Masaki’s death and Isshin being lost in his grief, a ghoul came into town and killed Tatsuki’s father. Ryuken “took care of” the offender and was the reason Isshin got off his ass.

Since beginning high school, Tatsuki has been in a CCG program over the weekends. She adds on to her pre-existing martial arts skills and is working her way up to learning quinque combat. Her quinque would be a bikaku that is a serrated edge sword and can stretch into a whip when needed. The whip is used to hold ghouls in place as the hooked spikes cause more damage when being taken out.

Tatsuki is still friends with Orihime and Ichigo. Orihime is her best friend and they share dinner quite often. When Tatsuki starts with the ghoul hate speech, Ichigo tells her to talk about something else or he’s leaving. Orihime kinds shuts down and starts doing something else to distract herself. Tatsuki is so caught up in her rage and grief that she normally doesn’t notice when Orihime does this. She gets frustrated with Ichigo but doesn’t stay mad at him.

Urahara

Urahara is a “human” with a vast knowledge of ghouls. He is the reason the CCG ignores Karakura for as long as it does. He hacks into the data base whenever something that might be important occurs (someone having to use their kagune and there’s a security camera nearby) and deletes the data. The CCG eventually figured out that someone is wiping the data and sends Doves to investigate the town. But that’s a whole other story arc.

Jinta and Ururu are failed half ghoul experiments that he may or may not have liberated from the CCG as kids. At first he took them to examine their DNA but he grew to love them. The weird genetics has taken a toll on the kid’s bodies; Jinta needs hearing aids and Ururu wears glasses. Urahara however does him best to keep the kids healthy.

As a man of science, he has taken the liberty of getting DNA samples of all the ghouls in town as the data on ghouls is limited to the CCG’s propaganda. He may or may not want to make his own half ghoul some day (or do it to himself); all in the name of science.

His shop sells all sorts of items that the ghouls may need. It is also the place where the ghouls have their monthly meetings. Most of the kids are suspicious of Urahara since he is clearly “human”. Ryuken and Isshin trust him though so that’s good enough for the kids, at least for now.

#bleach #tokyo ghoul #crossover #uryu ishida #ryuken ishida #orihime inoue #bleach chad #kisuke urahara

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jangmi-latte · 4 years ago

Note

I heard you wanted help with a character analysis! I have come to help out, if I can! So, I have a question for you that may help out with at least one character we have information on, do you think Jamil Viper truly hates Kalim Al-Asim because of how the two's families' situation or Jamil is lying to himself? If you wish, I can discuss it with you and help you come to a conclusion, I am more than happy to help you if you need it.

You know, I have been observing Jamil’s actions ever since Chapter 5 started. It has been very visible that this vice-dorm leader has gone through a lot and the fandom knows that for sure. It bothers me sometimes seeing some Jamil x Kalim one-shots where it focuses on Jamil being all friendly with Kalim – friendly in a way the servant master relationship doesn’t bother him when it’s the other way around. I hope this essay of mine helps out expound on Kalim and Jamil’s relationship starting from pre-enrollment to post-enrollment. Before I jump straight into the main question, I’ll slowly expound on Jamil’s progress throughout the Scarabia Arc towards Pomefiore’s Arc.

i would also love to created the TWISTED WONDERLAND WIKIA and for the translators who are behind this site for providing the translations. this analysis won't be complete without them. it has been a very big help.

do note this analysis is NOT SPOILER-FREE so if you don’t wanna get spoiled, this meal is not for your dear customer.

01. Jamil’s freedom

First, let’s differentiate how Jamil acts with and without Kalim around. In most of the main and personal stories, Jamil was always with Kalim. In one instance – like in his PE card – we have seen Jamil without Kalim around. We can see how Jamil has a tendency to be bossy and how he has a way with words in terms of helping Floyd with his desire to do a headstand. Yes, he may have shown this personality around Kalim, however, it is noted how Jamil didn’t hold back into explaining to Floyd (very detailed at that) about the one thing he’s good at. Until he has caught himself again and realized he spoke too much.

We can see how Jamil desperately wants to share who he really was (his talents, his ideologies, etc.) to others, something he couldn’t show when he’s around Kalim.

He said it himself, “my inner dancing soul started to ache…” which is why he shared his own thoughts.

“Ahem! …It’s nothing. When I went out with Kalim in the past, there were occasions where I did a bit of dancing.” He held back again just because Kalim was mentioned. Ace even mentioned how it wasn’t A BIT of what Jamil did in dancing.

It’s obvious how Jamil actually wanted to dance more and teach Floyd what he’s good at except Ace mentioned how it was a basketball club and not a dance club. It’s clear how he’s used to adjusting himself and hold back with what he wants to do. We’re just glad Floyd somehow persuaded that made Jamil show his real self.

Do note how Floyd complimented Jamil when he did a handstand and how happy he must’ve felt about himself.

He was willing, his own choice, to teach Floyd and NOT because he’s obligated to like he was around Kalim. He even shared what techniques he could do.

In his voice lines, we can see how Jamil actually wants to be more powerful. Not like that’s already not obvious, however, there was always the resentment of holding back. He wanted to enjoy himself, as noted in Fairy Gala where he went all out and didn’t hold back, and in Dances and Wishes where he mentioned that he wanted to travel alone. In one of his groovy lines, he said “Sometimes it’s nice to just forget about everything and enjoy yourself. It’s been a long time since I felt like that.”

HE DOESN’T WANT TROUBLE ANYMORE!!! Please, give this man a break, he really hates getting into other people’s business. Let alone getting dragged into them. Why is this under his freedom category? Because anywhere Kalim is, there will always be trouble. Meaning, not only is his safety in the line but also the way he acts. Stiff, robot-like, servant, guardian, you say it. Is Jamil one of those? No.

He always tries to find something beneficial with being around Kalim. Dancing, for example. He stated that whether he likes it or not, Jamil has eventually found fun in dancing and let alone develop strength just by chasing him around.

It has always been mentioned how Jamil is good at cooking and I even read that his kitchen is his go-to when he's stressed and whatnot. But let's remember that Jamil DOESN'T really likes cooking that much. He's only obligated to do so. He mentioned it in his SSR dorm uniform voice lines. Don't associate him with the kitchen too much.

He ALWAYS mentions Kalim!!! In every voice line, in every personal story, hell, even the main story, there wouldn't be ONE instance where he wouldn't mention Kalim. Why? That's what he was born to do. To always mention his master, to mention his position, to keep the focus away from him and move it towards who he's serving. That's his life. Imagine his happiness when he finally gets a chance to shine on his own.

Connecting to the previous paragraph, either Jamil notices it or not, he consciously and subconsciously lies to himself and to others — except to those who have Asim as their last name. We all know Jamil would go boast about his intelligence, skills, and talents when he wants to and as noted in his overblot, he didn't hold back (he was in a state of no control, yes, but when someone overblots they most often spill what they were truly feeling deep down). Yet, Jamil has grown accustomed into lying to himself and to others that, "This is what I can only do. This is what I am for, etc." He always belittles himself to others and it wasn't a choice of his.

I noticed how Jamil would always say he doesn't want to stand out and I couldn't point out whether this includes him lying to himself or he genuinely just doesn't like attention. Why this confuses me is because he said he wanted to be number one and known for his own talents yet he doesn't like standing out. I would assume that he wants to be known for who he is in a way of recognition and not by any loud or crowd settling attention.

Now, Jamil often jokes about "I'm the master now, serve me" in his SSR birthday card and it's easy to point out that (1) he isn't used to attention being placed on him and he's growing accustomed to it, (2) it's a form of control mechanism for him that he knows he's still a servant despite getting such privilege for a day. He is used to his position but that doesn't mean he won't fight for what he wants/believes. After all, Kalim already told him and he's slowly trying to do so without breaking his position still.

02. Jamil’s relationship with Kalim (post-overblot)

Jamil has vocally stated his hatred for Kalim which happened after his overblot. He doesn’t want to be friends, he doesn’t want ANYTHING that involves being with Kalim. He is there solely for the purpose of being a servant and to finish school. Just like I stated, Jamil tries to find benefits with being around Kalim, whether he likes it or not, he is getting a good dose of education, a good shelter, food, etc. Even though Jamil wants not only him but his family as well to get out of the traditional servant position, he knows he doesn’t have the power to do so. My only conclusion here is that Jamil has very limited choices and that he knows that he has to endure Kalim maybe a bit longer.

Now, this is where we start answering the main question, does Jamil Viper truly hates Kalim Al-Asim because of how the two's families' situation or is he lying to himself? The answer is no – in the prospect of hating Kalim. BUT the most logical answer I could give is that Jamil is slowly warming up (VERY SLOWLY) to Kalim AND NOT HIS FAMILY’S POSITION. Those are two different things:

Jamil’s obligation is to look after Kalim, feed him, protect him, teach him, etc. That’s what he hates. What I’m trying to say here is that Jamil still cares about Kalim. Why do I say this? Notice in the Fairy Gala event, not only did he prove himself to the audience and to Vil but he also was having fun. Despite the harsh training he went through, I believe those smiles he shared with Kalim showed the progress in their relationship with each other.

In Chapter 5-34, we can see Kalim talking about how he was poisoned and mentioned he doesn’t like the idea of the culprit (whoever plans to poison him) never apologizing when he ever was poisoned. Based on Jamil’s silence, what he probably felt was guilt. He never apologized for what he did but he knew what he did was wrong. At the beginning chapters of Chapter 5, he did explain what happened between him and the dorm students and how he’ll just stick to Kalim from now on. He despises Kalim’s sweet, sunshine, nature because he’s the exact opposite. He knows he’s the villain, he knows he can’t accept Kalim’s personality due to his nature. Kalim’s too nice, Jamil isn’t, they go well together and he (Jamil) doesn’t want to do anything with it. Let Kalim live his own life, he’ll live his.

“We’re not friends, remember…?” Remember Jamil’s tendency to lie? He’s lying to himself. He always tries to make himself hate Kalim but he can’t.

Want to be even more convinced? Chapter 5-30, why would Jamil eavesdrop on MC and Kalim’s conversation? He’s watching over Kalim, yes, but what do you think he felt after hearing Kalim finally learn? Don’t you think he felt relieved? I know for sure he won’t feel guilt over that, all he wanted was for Kalim to be aware of their differences and to be independent. That’s what’s happening to Kalim right now.

Ah, additional to that, the Halloween event. Jamil checked on Kalim, didn’t he? He trusted Kalim on his own. He was actually smiling when Ace pointed out how he keeps checking his phone. He was only checking on Kalim, okay, but please. The trust he actually placed on Kalim was big. Improvement in friendship.

Concerning his position, that’s the sole thing Jamil wants to change. That has always been his goal. To change his family’s position as servant, get a break, have freedom. Who knows? If Jamil ever did get what he wanted, he might go back to Kalim. He’s hard to read.

Conclusion:

I wanted to expound more on the depth of their relationship but this post has gotten too long. To keep it short, Jamil is still contemplating to himself. We can’t instantly jump into the ‘yes and no’ into his hatred for we are still ongoing with Pomefiore’s chapter which will unfold more of their relationship. He somehow hates Kalim but doesn’t in a way of personality and ideology, not the whole person himself. He also hates his position but again, Jamil did something wrong and he knows it. They’re both still learning, they’re both still progressing throughout their relationship. I hope this analysis answered your question! It was fun ^^.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland character analysis #jamil viper #kalim al asim #scarabia

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crescentsteel · 4 years ago

Text

To All the Boys I’ve Loved - The Popular Guy (2)

route: Tooru Oikawa genre: fluff, crack wc: 6k

This is a collab from our server @babythotshq.

Experience other routes here.

Route masterlist.

[a/n: I love writing for Oikawa so much :(( ]

Just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse, there you are, staring dumbfounded at Oikawa.

“What?” you utter, incredulous from what he just said. You must’ve been hearing things from all the chaos this morning has brought you.

“I was asking you out, y/n-chan.”

You couldn’t suppress the grimace that formed on your face. Among all the other guys you sent the letter to, it was him whom you thought would be the least of your problems. You thought that he’d be out of the scenario by default. You didn’t think your letter to him would matter. It would just be another fan letter.

By an ironic turn of events, it was him with you in this empty room, asking if you wanted to date him.

It was preposterous.

You should’ve burned those letters instead of letting them lie around. Now that you think about it, you shouldn’t have even written those letters in the first place. You and your stupid sentiments of ‘starting fresh’ led you to this.

You fix your posture, removing your forehead from resting on his back hand. Despite slouching towards your direction, he’s still towering over you.

“I don’t want to date you, Oikawa-san.”

He backs away slowly with his eyes wide, shocked by your immediate refusal. He must be. He’s the most popular guy in high school. A lot of girls would kill just to be trapped in the same room with him right now as you are. You can already hear the hearts of his fangirls being shattered if they find out that he’s interested to date someone.

“But why?”

He sounds as if something’s wrong with you for rejecting him. Can you blame him though? Other than being perfection personified, you sent him that letter that explicitly told him that you have a huge crush on him.

“I don’t wanna be killed by your hoard of fans. I still want to live.”

He pressed his lips together and put his fist in front of his mouth in an attempt to suppress a laugh, but failed right after as his laughter echoed in the empty classroom.

“Seriously? That’s it?” Amusement still laced on his face.

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’? You don’t even go here, yet you’re immediately surrounded by girls. I don’t want to be caught in all of that. I want an amazing college life without girls going after my throat.” You said a bit too fast which made you catch your breath. You forgot that you sprinted just a while ago to get away from everyone.

Then he smiles at you, his eyes closed in arced slits, that prince-like smile that had everyone fawning after him.

“Y/n-chan.”

“Y-yes?” You stutter, slowly losing the previous resolve you had to stand up against him.

He opens his eyes and looks directly at you. “Do you still like me?”

It should’ve been easy to say no, but you have a gut feeling that he would be able to tell if you were lying. You’re not an excellent liar to begin with.

“Well.. uh. It’s not that I don’t, but errr.” You cower in the middle of your sentence, unable to deny what he asked you. You try to look somewhere else to prevent the fluster that was about to surface on your face

He suddenly puts his hands together like in a prayer, emitting a sharp sound that made you look at him again.

“Yaay! I thought you really declined me back then, y/n-chan. That hurt.” He said with feigned pain on his tone.

“But I just did?” You could’ve been more firm, but you, yourself, sounded uncertain as you find yourself getting mesmerized again by his presence, realizing that it’s him, the one you’ve always looked at from a distance with a dreamy sigh knowing that he’d never look your way.

But you were okay with that! So it wasn’t really a problem.

He suddenly gets his phone from his pocket and looks at it for a short while. “Ah. I have to go now.”

You feel conflicted. You should feel relieved that he’s about to leave and give you the peace you wanted, but also, you still haven’t settled the issue at hand.

“Come on now.” He gets your hand and tugs you along with him to get out of the room. You absent-mindedly follow as you’re distracted with his huge hand covering yours.

Once outside, he faces you. “I’ll be back, okay?”

You summon the all willpower you have in you. “I told you. I don’t want to go” you pause when he faces you, “out… with….” You were rendered speechless from the calculating smirk he gave you, something you haven’t seen him do from all those times you silently watched him.

“Do you honestly think I’d accept that half-assed rejection?”

He lets go of your hands only for his fingers to go up to your chin. “Tell it straight to my face that you don’t like me. Then, I’ll stop.”

You had an inkling that from that night that Oikawa had this persona he wasn’t showing any one. He only showed you a glimpse of it. But right now, he’s revealing not only a glimpse, but a more concrete display of it.

There really is more to him than what he let on to everybody.

In a blink of an eye, he goes back to his pleasant demeanor, slightly pinching your chin before releasing it. “See you again, y/n-chan.”

You watch his back gradually disappear from your sight while you’re completely rooted to the ground.

The buzzer rang, signalling the end of your last subject for the day. You gather your things from your desk and start to head out when you feel your phone vibrate.

‘Miss me, y/n-chan? :P’

You gape at the short message you just received. It was an unknown number, but you have a very good guess to who it is. In fact, it’s not just a guess. You were certain it was Oikawa. You could even hear his voice as you read it.

‘How did you get my number?’

‘Have I told you what a wonderful being your lil sister is? So precious! >_<’

That witch! How much more did she tell Oikawa about you?

“Ugh!”

She has no idea how lucky she was that you moved out. If you were at home, God knows what you might have done to her.

You haven’t replied, but your phone alerted again.

‘I’m waiting at your campus gates, mkay?’

Did your wretched sister tell him about your schedule too? Did she also tell him that you have a scar on your left butt cheek? Cause you wouldn’t be surprised if she did.

Wait. What?!

You look again at what he just said, the thought of him actually being there waiting for you sinking in your head.

You double your pace to reach the gates as soon as you can just to see if he was actually telling the truth.

Like he said, there he was, gracing the area with his presence just by standing there.

Your high school uniform looked great on him. But seeing him in his casual wear is a cultural reset you still haven’t gotten used to because he looked better than he already did before.

Your university didn’t have uniforms, but even so, you could tell he was different from other students. He looked out of place because he stands out.

You weren’t the only one to notice as you can see some students buzzing around about that good-looking guy near the gates.

Your eyes meet when you look at him again. He immediately smiles warmly at you, which made you blush a little. You’re about to approach him when three girls suddenly talked to him. You were not near enough to hear their conversation, but you didn’t have to be. You already know they’re ogling at him.

While he’s distracted with them, you turn around and walk away as quickly as you can.

You scold yourself mentally.

For a moment, you forgot that he was the great Oikawa.

You don’t know why he’s after you, but you don’t want to get caught up with all of that ruckus.

If he won’t take your refusal, you’re just going to have to ignore him. You came to terms with the fact that you’re a bad liar, so you can’t tell him to his face that you don’t like him.

Because you do.

As the days go by, you don’t respond to his texts. You ignore him when he waves at you, despite the other girls fighting for his attention, as he waits for you every other day in the school gates.

He could’ve easily approached you again every time he saw you at campus. He did chase you on his first visit after all.

But you knew what he wanted. He wanted you to be the one to go to him. He’s offering himself on a silver platter and baiting you to come get him yourself.

It was irritating because you were tempted. Every time you saw him smile exclusively at you, your defenses got weaker. Each day you see him waiting is a scene straight from a shoujo manga, and you feel like you’re the dumb heroine.

Finally, on his second week of relentless visits, you gave in. You did your best not to, but you also didn’t think he’d be that persistent.

Since he visited frequently, he unknowingly built a group of followers who’d wait for him as well. Even before he sees you, you march up to him and ignore the few people who are already hogging him.

His face lights up when he spots you coming towards him and waves eagerly at you. Upon being acknowledged by him, the people make way for you until you’re standing right in front of him.

“Y/n-chan!”

You thought he’d immediately understand that you wanted to get out of here, but he just looks at you innocently.

“Let’s go,” you say in almost a whisper before turning around and walking away from the small crowd. “Bye everyone,” you heard him say cheerfully before catching up to you.

You let him follow you until you reach a cafe outside the university.

“I really thought you were going to keep ignoring me,” he said as he stirred the coffee he ordered.

“When were you planning to stop if I did?”

He sips the coffee and answers, “Today.”

You place your elbows on the table as you cover your face with your hands. You made a terrible decision. You should’ve been strong for at least one more day, and that would have been the end of it.

“Can’t believe you actually made me chase you,” he added.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“I wanted to.”

Even until now, his straightforwardness still surprises you. How does someone say things like that so easily?

It must be the confidence from being such an incredible person

“So, are we dating now?”

You gawk at him. You haven’t even settled down yet from the previous conversation and there he was with another bomb already at hand.

“No! I dragged you here to talk. Why are you so persistent in asking me out? Aren’t you busy?”

“Not really. I quit volleyball.”

Oikawa saw how your expression changed all too quickly when he gave you the news. He was expecting it. He knew the reason you admired him so much was because of the pedestal you put him on. Now that he’s just Oikawa, the model, he wonders how your perception of him would change.

Instead of disappointment, you just stared at him. Your eyes pierced him like you’re prodding whatever’s going on on his head.

“What about university?”

“I won’t attend one.”

That’s when you looked away, with your eyes glazed with soft melancholy from which he couldn’t understand where it came from. It seemed like you figured something out that made you feel bad for him. When you look at him again, you weren’t the flustered mess that you usually were.

“Do you really want to date me, Oikawa-san?”

“I wouldn’t bug you for two weeks for nothing if I didn’t.”

“Then please be real with me, “ your voice suddenly serious. “Why did you quit volleyball?”

He pauses before answering, deciding which answer he’d give you, not that he’s going to lie. It’s just that the subject is lil bit too touchy for him to talk about openly. “Modeling suits me best don’t you think?”

You didn’t say anything but the way your jaw tensed up was very telling. You don’t agree with him. Still you say, “It suits you a lot, Oikawa-san.”

He became utterly confused. You were earnest. You meant every word of what you said, but the expression in your face contradicts them.

“It’s just that you looked incredibly unhappy when you mentioned you quit Volleyball.”

He froze, completely caught off guard by what you just said. He wasn’t even aware that he made such a face.

“I will always support you, Oikawa-san. I guess as a fan myself, I just want to see you genuinely happy with whatever you choose to do. I think that’s what drew me to you in the first place. You looked like you enjoyed yourself in all the things you excelled at.”

The sincerity of every single word you struck him hard. And he wasn’t prepared for it despite being the one who went after you.

He never once doubted that it was you who wrote the letter, but seeing and hearing you say what you just said, it’s as if the letter materialized into a person that is you. It was fascinating how the words in that piece of paper took your form.

“Umm..”

You both look at the sudden interruption. “Oikawa-san? Can we get a photo? It’s my friend’s birthday and…” He didn’t hear the rest of whatever the bitch was babbling about. Internally, he’s pissed. You were talking about something important. Is she fucking blind that they didn’t see he was with you?

When he looks at you, you’re gripping your cup while staring at the lady with discomfort in your eyes. You clear your throat to let her know that you were there presently, but she still didn’t pay you any attention. With a sigh, you look down in defeat.

That’s when he understood why you blatantly rejected him despite the heartfelt letter. You knew these things were going to happen. He previously thought you were overreacting about him and his fans, so he didn’t pay any mind to it. But now he actually saw how it bothered you.

That fueled his irritation even more.

“Sorry. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m on a date with her.” He said with a fake ass smile as to not be completely impolite to a fan.

The lady looks your way. “Oh,” finally seeing that he is indeed with someone. She suddenly bows down to you two. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were dating someone.” Then walked out of the scene as fast as she could.

Rather than relief, it was worry spread on your face when he looked at you again.

“Why did you do that, Oikawa-san? They might spread bad rumors about you.”

“What could be bad about dating you?”

And there it was, the adorable panic settling on your face with pink tints surfacing on your cheeks. He’s used to people blushing because of him, but yours just hits him differently. You should learn to stop getting flustered so much around him. It eggs him on even more.

“We-We’re not dating!” Your voice almost cracked from how high your pitch was when you spoke.

“Then what’re we doing now?”

Your eyes dart around, looking for an answer to his question. He lets you even though he’s still convinced this is a date.

“We’re just hanging out?” You said uncertainly. “Yes. That’s it!” You nod enthusiastically, proud of yourself for finding a label for this afternoon, other than a ‘date.’

“We’re just hanging out.” You reiterate with a wide smile.

“Okay.” He plants his elbows on the table and weaves his fingers together to form a surface he could rest his chin on. “So there’s no problem with us hanging out often then, y/n-chan?”

You, yourself, looked perplexed on how to answer his question. If you were just hanging out, then it shouldn’t be a problem. If you make a fuss out of it, then it’d be like you’re admitting that this is more than just hanging out.

“I-I guess?”

He couldn’t help the tug in the corner of his lips. You had no idea you’re playing yourself right into his hands.

“Let me know when we can call it ‘dating’, oke?”

You sighed. “I don’t even know why you would even want to date me, Oikawa-san. I really am just a fan.”

No, you weren’t. The fact that you keep insisting you are makes him even more believe otherwise. You’re completely clueless on how different you were from everybody else.

”I like you, y/n-chan. Is that reason not good enough?”

You still haven’t wrapped your head around what just happened between you and Oikawa at that coffee shop. It was too good to be true. You were actually convinced you dreamt the whole thing until you opened your phone when you woke up and saw a text from him.

‘Good morning Y/n-chan <3’

You shouldn’t be getting your hopes up, but how can you not? You’re just a regular girl. It’s hard not to feel anything when someone you really look up to is pining after you. What could he have possibly liked about you?

Maybe he’s getting lonely in life and wanted to start dating so he shuffled his fan letters and drew a lucky girl that could be his girlfriend.

You shook your head.

He’s not that shallow. Despite the sprightly, frivolous personage he has, that’s something he wouldn’t do.

You look at your phone again. Should you reply to this? Does this message require a response or he just wanted to greet you? You groan from your own thoughts. You’ve liked so many boys in high school but never actually went out with one so you have no idea this goes.

In the end, you texted back with a morning greeting even though it’s almost noon.

‘Wanna hang out today?’

You were so foolish when suggested to just hang out instead of date. That was basically the same thing, just a different label, especially to him who kept on asking you out.

Still, it works out for you because you’re not sure if you wanted to date him for real.

If you’d be honest with yourself, you actually want to.

Ever since that conversation you had in the cafe, you found yourself liking him even more. He’s shown you that he’s not the ever perfect guy everyone made him out to be. He also has a shadow behind that radiant light he emits. He’s not as unreachable as you thought.

However, you knew that that line of thinking would do you no good. Even if you knew how he really is as a person, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s an incredibly great individual, and you’re not exactly that excellent to be staying beside someone like him.

Dating him would mean entering his world completely and accepting that you will have to compete with each single admirer vying for him. You’re not ready for that.

And it wasn’t just those You’d also be competing against his career. If he was going to date you, he’d have to actually make time for you. That might affect his success. You don’t want that. You’re satisfied with just cheering for him from afar.

So ‘hanging out’ is okay. He won’t expect things from you and you won’t expect things from him as well.

That means you shouldn’t cancel your plans today just for him, even though it’s not really that important.

‘Sorry, but I told my cousin I’d watch their match today.’

‘Mind if I watch with you?’

You tell yourself it’s just casually hanging out, but you look like an idiot as you smile at your phone while walking towards the gymnasium where your cousin’s volleyball match is taking place.

The match was ongoing when someone stood beside you. You look to see who it was and saw Oikawa wearing glasses and a face mask. Even with half of his face covered, you can still tell that it was him.

“Are you okay, Oikawa-san? Are you feeling sick?”

He waves his hand as a no to your question. ”I didn’t want to be recognized. I don’t want a repeat of the other day.”

You were moved. That was thoughtful of him. That incident made you upset, but you accepted right after that it was just natural since he’s him. He didn’t have to adjust for you, but he did.

You look around to see if the seats were still as unoccupied as they were when you arrived.

“I think you can remove them now. There’s not a lot of people here. There’s even fewer girls. It’d be a shame to cover your face.”

When he removed his mask, he was grinning ear to ear.

“Do you really mean that, y/n-chan? I look that good to you?” He asked frivolously, wanting to fish a compliment from you. But you just brush it off. To you, it wasn’t even a compliment to tell him that he’s a very appealing person. To you, it was an objective truth that you find no shame in announcing.

“Yes. You look that good, Oikawa-san.”

He seems to look extremely pleased, which was weird cause he should already know that. His fans remind him every day. Maybe good-looking people need validation at random times, so you just shrug it off.

“Is your cousin any good?”

“I honestly don’t know. He asked me to be here because he wanted to boast to his teammates that a girl is watching him play.”

“He better play his best then.”

The second set starts and you both watch intently.

Every time your cousin scores, you cheer for him as loud as you can. That's why you’re there after all, to give moral support.

“They need to calm down.” Oikawa suddenly spoke at the 23rd point of the opposing team.

“Who?”

“Your cousin’s team.”

You burrow our eyebrows together at his answer. “They look okay to me. In fact, they’re more aggressive than the first set.”

“That’s the problem. They haven’t been doing anything flashy, but they’re consistent with their attacks and receives earlier in the game. They want that break point, so they’re pushing themselves to do something to get it. At that last rally, the setter should’ve tossed the ball at the back instead of spiking it himself. He got impatient and it resulted in a misplay.”

Oikawa doesn’t hear you respond, so he looks at you.

But you were already looking at him, doe eyes gleaming with the purest form of awe he’s ever seen.

“What?”

A smile that exuded joy spreads across your wonderstruck face.

It made him wonder what it’d be like if it was him playing. What kind of smile would you give him when his team wins?

He mentally scolds himself. That shouldn’t have crossed his mind. He’s content with his increasing success due to modeling. That’s where he belongs. Not at the court, aspiring to stand with naturally gifted players who didn’t have to work as hard as he did.

“Sorry, sorry. You just looked really cool while explaining all that. It reminded me what made me like you so much back in high school.” You giggled.

That was the first laugh you ever graced him with.

He was suddenly conscious of the words he should use for flattery. He hadn’t been exactly honest with his fans when he returned their compliments. He didn’t want to use adjectives such as ‘pretty’ or ‘cute’ because he threw those words like useless garbage whenever it suited him.

He sincerely wants to let you know you looked beautiful just now.

A whistle followed by cheers of the small number of people in the gym causes the both of you to look at the match. It was over. Your cousin’s team lost.

“I’m going to meet him. Are you coming?”

The moment was lost, so he let it go. There will be other times to tell you.

You both go down from the benches and wait for your cousin. When your cousin arrives, instead of greeting you, his eyes travel to Oikawa.

“That was a good game. Next time for sure!” You consoled your cousin even though his eyes kept going back and forth to you and Oikawa.

“Thanks nee-san!”

Your cousin leans to you to whisper something which he could probably guess as something related to him from the way you looked at him after your cousin spoke.

“Ah, yes. That’s him.”

You both turned to him. “Oikawa-san, this is my cousin, Shin. And Shin, well… you already know him.”

“Yes, I saw you play! Your team crushed ours last year. It was awesome!” He said too eagerly.

Is your whole family his fan? Maybe he should meet them all.

“Are you dating nee-san?”

He saw you suddenly got stiff from your cousin’s question. “H-hey! Don’t go around asking stuff like that to people you just met, Shin.”

He raised his eyebrow from how you didn’t deny that you two were dating, even when it was you who said that you weren’t.

“Nope! I asked her to date me but she said we’re only hanging out.” He said all too pleasantly.

Your cousin harshly turned to you and yelled, “Why?! You’ll never get someone as good as him!”

From that moment, Oikawa decided that he likes your cousin. He should definitely meet more of you relatives. Your sister gives out any information about you while your cousin wants you to date him. What a blessing your family truly is.

“That’s none of your business, you high school brat!” You yell back even though there’s a faint shade of pink on your cheeks.

Your cousin ignores you and faces him instead. “Can you please come to our practice, Oikawa-san? Just once. Please.”

“Knock it off, Shin. He’s very busy.”

Although he was indeed about to decline, an idea popped in his head when you spoke. “I’ll go, but she needs to go too, okay?” His answer was directed at Shin, but he was looking at you.

Before asking to go with you this morning, their previous coach texted to meet up with him. He kindly declined. He’d be wasting both their time since he was sure their coach was just going to convince him to continue playing. And he was sure that his answer was no.

But a measly practice with you watching, that he can do. You’ll get to see him play and in return, he might get to see that special smile of yours again.

“Please nee-san!”

“W-wait. I’m not sure about-”

“PLEASE!” Your cousin was literally begging, and he couldn’t help but be delighted on how someone else was doing the work for him.

“Fine! Just get up off your knees. You’re embarrassing me.” You frantically looked around to see if anyone was staring.

“Yes!!” Your cousin laughed maniacally, and if he didn’t worry about his image, he’d join in on the laugh as well.

When the three of you settled down, you bid your goodbyes and left. It was already sunset so he decided you two should eat somewhere before heading home, which of course you refused because you said you didn’t want to impose even though he’s the one who asked.

Regardless, he did manage to convince you. ‘It’s all part of hanging out today’ was how he put it.

It was completely dark out when you got out of the diner because of how slow you ate.

You suddenly bowed. “Thank you for your time! Please stay safe on your way home!”

He wanted to laugh because you’re like one of those staff greeting their customers on their way out. “What’re you talking about? I’m walking you home.”

“Huh? You don’t have to, Oikawa-san!”

He sighs. “I don’t do things because I have an obligation to. I do things, because I want to, mkay?”

You give him a coy smile before nodding.

He asked about you on the way to your dorm. You knew a lot about him, but he knew almost nothing about you. So he used the opportunity to get you to tell him something about yourself. You were worried at first that you were talking too much because he’s quiet most of the time. But he was just listening intently because he wanted to ingest everything you’re saying.

When you got comfortable, your stutters gradually stopped and he found that you’re actually talkative. It helped that you’re looking straight ahead instead of at him as you speak.

A few minutes after, your dorm was in sight. That’s when the question popped back in his head. “How come you never cheered me on in any of our games?” He was wondering earlier but forgot since your cousin came.

“I did! I always watched your games.”

“Like how you cheered for your cousin, I meant.”

You paused before you spoke. “For starters, you already have tons of cheerleaders. My tiny voice was inconsequential.”

“But for someone who considers herself as a fan, you sure were quiet.”

“I don’t think you really needed people cheering for you. I doubt you even hear them when you play. You really lose yourself when you’re on the court. You don’t do it for the fans. You do it because you love it. Maybe that’s why I don't scream cheers for you. I, myself, get so caught up with you the way you play.”

He’s completely astounded by how spot on you were. He reveled in the glory of his popularity, but that was just a bonus he can do well without. How you were able to process all that just from watching from the sidelines, he could never know.

He’s used to the flattery and the worship from his fans, but the way your eyes light when you talk about him. It wasn’t blind adoration. You saw what’s beneath the thin surface of his fame and that’s what you came to like.

“I was also so envious of how you got the same grades that I did. It was infuriating! But also inspiring at the same time. God knows if I tried as hard as you did in any club I joined, my exams would suffer.”

You smiled into the nothingness in front of you, as if you were replaying a scene in your mind.

It didn’t sit well with him. He didn’t like how you were looking so far away. It was like you were chasing after the high school Oikawa, instead of the Oikawa that’s beside you right now. He wanted to do something. He wanted you to look at him, the person you admire so much.

“I wish I could’ve watched you model too. I wonder how you looked like during your photo shoots. I want to know how the gorgeous photos-”

He grabbed your hand and stopped walking. You eyed his hand that was holding yours before meeting his gaze.

Finally. You were looking at him. He wanted to let you know that he wasn’t just a far away image you were going after. He wanted you to acknowledge that he’s presently right there with you.

“Y/n-chan.” He let go of your hand and advanced two steps until he was standing in front of you.

He smiled at you. Being with him all day, you were starting to get used to him. So you smiled back.

“Yes?”

“I really don’t mind this whole hanging out thingy of yours.”

His eyes were intently locked on your face, but it lacked the lightheartedness that was previously just there. The air around him unexpectedly shifted into something threatening right when you were just starting to get comfortable around his presence.

“But won’t you mind kissing someone you’re not dating?”

Warning sirens ring your head, but you can’t move. You know he’s about to do what you think he’s about to do, making your heart pound wildly in your chest. The rational thing to do is to get out of the situation before he actually does it. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.

You clearly know that and yet, you only hold his gaze as his eyes filled with hunger drop to your lips while he inches closer and closer.

Right when his lips are a breath away, he diverts his eyes back to yours.

“You have 3 seconds to say no.”

Great! Now is your time to refuse.

“Three.”

You really should.

“Two.”

You open your mouth to force the two-letter word to come out.

“One.”

“Oikawa-san...” You really should’ve said no. You didn’t even know what you were about to say after uttering his name.

He cupped your cheek and smirked as he said, “That wasn’t a no.”

He crossed that tiny gap between your mouths and in an instant, his lips claimed yours.

You knew how amazing he was in everything he chose to do, and that included the way he kissed you. It was gentle, coaxing you to let go of whatever apprehension you held.

And you did. For the first time, the wrong decision felt right.

You closed your eyes and let yourself get absorbed on how his lips warmed yours in the settling cold of the night. It was soothing, but also left you wanting more.

The palm of your hands traveled to his chest and slowly made their way up to his shoulders. One remained planted on the surface of it while the other went to his nape, yielding to your urge to have more of his warmth as you softly suck his lower lip

His free arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer, just how you wanted him to.

Every single second felt incredible. You never knew a kiss could be so intense but tender at the same time.

Even in your dreams, you haven’t thought of kissing Oikawa. He was far too good for you that imagining such things is utterly absurd. But reality made you feel the contrary with the way he intricately moved his mouth against yours. You felt wanted.

You pull away slightly to grasp for air. He brushed your cheek with his thumb which caused you to raise your gaze to him. He wore a faint smile with genuine fondness dancing in his eyes as he looked at nothing else but your face.

You were starting to believe that he really meant it when he said he likes you.

It made you weak.

“Aheeeeeem~”

You pushed yourself off of him from the sudden intrusion. You harshly turned your neck to see where it came from and found two girls giggling on their way inside the dorms while glancing at you and Oikawa. You’re relieved that they did not recognize him, but that’s only secondary to the embarrassment of getting caught intimate right outside the dormitories not even a month after university has started

Maybe they even saw you making out.

Your cheeks flared up at the thought.

You face his direction and bow exaggeratedly that your body formed a perfect right angle. “Please drink a lot of water and sleep early so you won’t get acne! Thank you for today!”

You wanted to slap yourself until you could see what kind of garbage your brain was made of. You panicked so bad that you spat out the most random thing you could think of just to distract yourself from what just happened.

Without looking at him, you ran off with the worst cringe you’ve had in your entire life.

Route masterlist.

Next update on 12/22

Taglist (crossed out can’t be tagged)

@heykoutarou @sakusarights @elianetsantana @tetsujime @kweenregent @ne-kuroo @restricted-illusion @avbreyissad @kac-chowsballs @aksteldesu @justatempo @barali.k @humanitysbiggestsimp @al3xx1s @kellesvt @isentsworld @daniella-uwu @bokuakadaily @kitababie @luckypartyranchmug @melialeic @omigogames @cafetetsu @sleep3deprived @vicassa @the-writing-otaku @chibishae34 @chickennuggetthot @tsukisemi @timeturnerss @mariachiiii @spaceboitrash @dearestsuna @atsumubabe @cadenceh2o @hawkssnugget @hikari-writes @dabilove27 @isleofnajera @thathoneybee3 @tsumue @uncleirohsbobbatea @shinhiromi @solarskiesdream @greyevangeline @graykageyama @holycometz @mattsuns-prettybaby @fluffymilkbread @rogueofbullshit @turntechsquishy @tweety1501 @sunashi @stale-sandcastle @kellesvt @underratedmage

#oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa scenarios #tooru oikawa #tooru oikawa x reader

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melanated-maddy · 3 years ago

Text

TYTON

Hey welcome to this fan fiction. I recently finished war storm and I’m in love with Tyton. Couldn’t help but want to right a fic after seeing so little on this guy on tumblr. Don’t know if I’ll write more as got exams but if you like let me know! All characters and world and everything belongs to the queen herself Victoria Aveyard

Chapter 1

“Debark, debark, debark.”

Tyton was snapped out of his musings pale fingers still gripped against the fading cover of his book. They’d finally arrived back in Ascendant after another long plane journey. A year after the kingdom of Norta was officially dissolved with Cal’s abdication there was still unrest with the Silvers. Too many houses had attempted to feel comfortable on the sparkling throne. ‘Osanos says water comes after fire, Rhambos is taking strength and power a little too literally and Merandus is trying hard to distance themselves from the insanity their own brought forth in Maven and actually claim the throne. At least there’s no more Samos worries. That ship sailed or should I say smashed along with Volo’s head with his offspring are safely tucked away in the capital.’ The soldiers on the plane had started their move off some in a rush to get home to worried families and others ready to have a drink. Davidson was the closet family Tyton had after his own lost their lives to a raid. His mother, father and two younger brothers all gone in an instant. That instance was the first time Tyton’s ability was able to properly manifest. Properly surge. Properly show how dangerous he was. It was Davidson who found him when searching the wrecks of homes and families. Still holding his brother’s Aeon’s hand tears in his eyes. Davidson was always quiet even back in those days and knelt to Tyton’s small height hugging him close. After that day Davidson properly set about burying the family well allowing Tyton to grieve and giving him another place to call home. He’d never admit it, but Tyton was lucky...relieved that Davidson and Carmadon took him in. Even if those raiders who had taken his family from him deserved his rage, he was terrified of the lightning under his skin. With a huff, Tyton uncoiled his long body from his seat standing and stretching up to remind his muscles of their function. The suit he wore was dark not one of the traditional Montfort green it just would not do for some missions. Under his seat he pulled free the small bag carrying a bottle of water, bag of nuts and stored the book into it securely. It was the last thing he’d received from his parents and even so he still struggled to get through it properly. As Tyton turned to move out the aircraft door onto the tarmac he spotted Mare struggling to reach an overhead compartment to grab something. He quickly moved forward and grabbed hold of two items: a maroon scarf and backpack.

“Thanks.”

“No worries I’m always available to help the vertically challenged.”

Mare’s face turned into a vivid shade of crimson and she moved as if ready to punch his arm when Cal swung his head back into the cabin. He seemed exasperated which quickly shifted to a swift glare as his eyes settled on how close the two were.

“Tyton.”

“Cal.”

“Mare what's taking so long?”

“Difficulties getting the scarf and backpack you decided to thrust into the overhead bin. As well as being ready to obliterate string bean here.”

Tyton gave a chuckle, although he was slightly leaner than Cal a string bean he was not.

“Don’t worry just helping her out she’s still yours, your highness.”

Cal bristled with the label, but Tyton was already strolling out onto the blinding tarmac doused in bright light.

As he got his bearings about himself, Tyton could not help feeling the pulses of electricity going off in every person around hims body. Just as you could imagine different emotions and thoughts had different electric compositions. As people moved around he recognised stress signals, pulses of joy and shifts of concentration. The signals never went away but with time he’d found away to keep them working in tandem with him so he didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Tyton come on rides here.” Rafe called his hair in the sun giving the appearance of green flames.

Tyton walked to the transport, long legs eating up the distance in a few moments to be face to face with Rafe. Ella must’ve caught a different one as the storm addict’s blue hair was no where to be seen. Together the two walked towards Davidson who was speaking to Arezzo in hushed tones. With a nod she was dismissed walking instead of jumping to wherever she needed to go. Davidson turned to the two a smooth smile on his face and opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a quick trill.

“Rafe!”

A blur of orange smashed into Rafe’s chest holding him tightly as he clutched her back.

Laughing Rafe greeted her, “Iz, nice to see you too, but you’re crushing me.”

With one last tug, Izelle released her older brother a wide grin tugging on her lips as she looked up at him. Izelle, was Rafe’s little sister by a year who shared his dark brown skin smooth and even and bright smile. In her orange dress that spun around her knees and black combat boots, she giggled letting her hair of tight curls circling her head move slightly held back with an orange band.

“Is it wrong for me to have missed my dumb big brother? Am I wrong Tyton?”

Tyton smiled and shook his head as Rafe glared at him.

“So nice to know that it won’t be a strongarm that gets me but my sister’s choke hold.”

Iz shoved Rafe as he rolled his eyes and moved to put his bags in the transport while Iz turned to greet Tyton.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

And with that Tyton opened his arms and Izelle moved into them giving him a tight hug.

‘Her hugs are always great.’

“Thanks for looking out for Rafe. I’m one hundred percent sure he’s not dead somewhere because of you.”

A deep rumble erupted from Tyton as he shook his head. They walked to the transport as Tyton asked how she’d been.

“All good here finally ready to move onto the fourth arc only two more to go before I’m a qualified teacher of education.”

“That’s excellent. You’ve worked hard for it.”

“Yeah it’s been so long definitely the hardest thing I’ve faced, but it’ll be so worth it once I’m in a class with little guys.”

“Do you know what specialism you’ll take yet Izzy?”

In Montfort, classes were not segregated at all with children of all blood types getting the same education to the best standard they could. Those who were Ardent or Silver has supplementary classes to help in coming into their abilities. However, it was courtesy for teachers at normal school to specialise in understanding one blood type well so that support chains could be used in school for any student struggling.

“I’m not sure yet to be honest. I’ve still got to think, might swing for Ardent or Red they’ve already got lots of silver specialists.”

Tyton liked listening to Izzy speak. Her mind although more hyperactive than most was one he enjoyed feeling the thrum of. She would be an excellent teacher one who was fun and silly, but able to understand and be serious when needed. For all her loudness Rafe often called her the thunder to his lightning. As Izzy spoke she tended to often get enthralled by her words and lost her bearings of where she was. So much so she didn’t see a smaller transport squealing into her path. In seconds Tyron had pulled her back allowing the small buggy to rush past on its was.

“Izzy.”

“Ha sorry about that. Forgive me.”

And with a smile, all was forgiven.

“Come on Rafe is definitely going to start a mood if we don’t hurry up,” and with that she pulled his arm to the transport releasing him to clamber up and take a seat next to Rafe. For all the bickering and teasing they did the two siblings loved each other dearly. They had sought refuge in Montfort from the Piedmont principalities with their mother. The two remembered little about their original home as they had left so young, but the happiness Montfort gave them was all they needed. Forgetting all about her conversation with Tyton, Izzy poked Rafe to tell her all about Norta and what things they’d encountered. Izzy had never left Montfort. She was definitely not a soldier, barely remembering to tuck in her thumbs properly when punching Rafe and the Ardent abilities had only passed to him so a useful electricon on the battlefield she was not. The ride to Ascendant was bumpy, Davidson muttering about looking into the concrete and upkeep of the infrastructure when back home. The air rushed in as they sped across the landscapes moving closer to the capital with every second until the transport stopped in a quick halt. The stop was so fast Izzy almost span out of her seat if not for Rafe and Tyton’s arms coming to forth to stop her fall.

“What’s going-“

Davidson was cut off when a terrible crunch sounded off. Leaning forward, he could see one of the transports being crushed the metal casings crumbling against each other. Without a thought Davidson threw out a shield glowing blue in the setting sun surrounding the two vehicles.

“Raiders already?” Rafe hit his head against the seat in frustration before moving out of the car to help passengers in the afflicted vehicle. Tyton quickly went about feeling how many Raiders were out there without being told.

“10, all seems to be magnetron. 3 females, 7 males. Wait they’re leaving?”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah moving away.”

Davidson heaved a sigh, “Radio in for some teleporters for the wounded.”

“They’re already here.” Tyton looked out seeing that those badly injured were being jumped back. Being so close to Ascendant meant the teleporters could make the jump.

“Alright then, destroy that transport don’t leave anything of use behind for them.”

With that, Tyton moved to the transport now empty and absentmindedly called forth a storm preparing for a powerful bolt. The skies darkened as his storm came into existence. Davidson let the shield down for a moment to let the bolt come through. In a fraction of a second, a burning bolt of lighting came down from the sky smashing against the transport reducing it to dust and scorched earth. The air singed with crackle as the fire wreck obliterated. Tyton surveyed the scene inspecting the damage to see if it was at a high enough level to not be useful to a magnetron. Being happy with it he turned and started to walk back to Davidson and Izzy, Rafe already sitting in his seat. He was laughing at Izzy as she covered her ears wincing at the terrible sound of the lightning on metal. It was a sound not comfortable for most ears, but Tyton’s power was unheard of in an Ardent. He was different to the other electricons being able to handle electricity more naturally than even them. It didn’t take much for him to call a storm bolt of that magnitude. As he was within a few metres of the transport he suddenly felt a barrage of electrical energy moving towards them. Recognising it as the previous magnetrons he turned to quickly release brain lightning on them being able to drop 4 of them before one let off a spike. Moving out of the way he could do, but the spike still got him in the side forcing him to the ground. Davidson’s shields again went up and Tyton was pulled into the transport as it began to drive away with Davidson’s shields still up. Izzy clambered towards him pulling apart his suit to get a better look at the cut. Her hand pressed down hard as she told Rafe to get the medical kit under the seat. Tyton grasped onto her had holding it down as he grimaced from the pain. “You’re fine it’s only a scratch.” Izzy nervously laughed.

“Of course because scratches produce this much blood.”

“Shut up big baby. I’ve met toddlers tougher than you,” she grinned and Tyton smiled back focusing on her electricity and letting it calm him down in the transport racing back to Ascendant.

#red queen #tyton jesper #rafe #mare barrow #cal calore #montfort #silver #war storm #fanfiction #electricon #black girl #oc

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penrose-quinn · 4 years ago

Text

Musubi [Preview] | Suguru Geto/F!Reader

posted: 04.02.21 | full: [Ao3]

word count: 2.2K

content tags: pre-hidden inventory arc. can be read as an excerpt.

tw: slight mentions of blood.

a/n: i haven’t written a fight scene in such a long time so apologies for the rusty writing. as for the full one-shot itself, i can’t give a date yet but i hope ya’ll can settle for this. enjoy the laughs for now! *cries in the corner*

First impressions were always drawn by an encounter, and tied tautly between bravado and cutthroat competition in the annual Kyoto Goodwill Event, the curious color of the string tugged out of Geto running into you was one of interest.

Strategically speaking, it made sense in any fight.

However, a downside to this was that they were inevitably a precursor for nasty introductions when names were traded like bruises and conversations for combat tactics.

Openings made for a good invitation for a counter, but Geto was quick to parry them with a looming many-limbed pillar of a curse that walled between the both of you with a screech; jolting back the memory and taste of sickness. A spirit of obsession.

Deformed hands, riddled with watchful eyes, reached for you, fixating in your every movement to resist them. You were fast, he’d give you that, but you were paired against a curse that was built from vile adamance. In short, a pain in the ass. Capturing it was, undoubtedly, and now, offered leverage to him when it made things a little simpler and interesting to watch from afar.

Attention to stances and a razor-sharp interest in the opponent; they were all inevitable, after all.

The moment your strings began to unravel from the pads of your fingers.

They were something to look out for when seemingly anything with cursed energy were bound to be entangled by the subtle manipulation of your hands, and in a span of a minute, the curse was left dangling and viciously writhing in suspension, held fast on the tough bark of oak trees like a fly to an intricate web.

“A Grade Two.” You gawked at it, giving in to a low whistle. “Cool.”

“Can’t believe you ate it up, though,” you said, hinting on that you already knew about his cursed technique. “Did you have to hack it up to pieces?”

Then you made a hand sign – two fingers pressed together – and with a smooth motion, your wrist rotating in an arc, the strings tied to the curse tightened, almost twisting its body for good measure. Or to flaunt. The two never seemed to be far from each other from what Geto observed from you. Typical senior behavior.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Geto said anyway, but unwilling to elaborate further.

From your distance, you peered back at him. “Not the chatty type like Six Eyes, eh?”

But he had a feeling you were.

“I’m afraid not.”

“You’re not gonna show your cards then?” you asked, perhaps alluding to a binding vow.

Geto was uncertain with what you’re trying to get out of this. Cautious as he was, he knew better than to play along, though something about your blatant drawl made him realize how he’d been curious enough to take the risk, mirroring that lazy confidence that curled up your peach-stained lips.

“Not going to show yours, senpai?”

There was a flicker of challenge in your eyes that appeared to make them brighter, like a glint of a knife. However, for whatever reason, you downplay it with a halfhearted shrug. “I’ll be honest,” and in a low amused voice, humoring him, “kouhai.”

The corners of his mouth bent into a slight smirk.

“I’m not really in the mood to help out anyone. Hell, I don’t even care if your school wins,” you admitted, pausing for a moment to listen in to the devastation of some uncharted area of the school grounds. Satoru. “See? We’re on the receiving end anyway.”

“Fair point,” Geto said with a nod. Though he kept the sentiment to himself, he would argue that you should have at least made an effort to appear concerned for your team.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m going to back out from this fight either. That’d be no fun. So how about it?” you offered. “Want to try something?”

Geto did contemplate on it—you. What your whole angle was about, why you went about it in such a roundabout way. Perhaps, the Kansai dialect had a hand in it when your manner of talking turned your inflections more offhanded and overfamiliar. Though he couldn’t deny that he caught on that you sounded more cryptic in comparison to his friend’s open, rather crude bluntness.

Something about your exchanges were like that, full of traps and layers, and as tired and eye-rolling as they were on another person, Geto wasn’t annoyed of you. Rather, he was keen in pursuing answers himself. What kind, he wasn’t sure yet. You had a way of making things interesting, and drawn by the pang of something like inquisitiveness and hunger, he arrived to a decision. “What do you have in mind?”

“Great! That settles it then,” you grinned, clapping your hands together. Another hand sign. “I’m setting your curse free.”

Once the strings began unwinding from the many-limbed curse, Geto felt a tremor from his gut; body apprehensive and prepared to strike.

Then it all came crashing down with a wink and a red and gold knot forming between your fingers, untwisting it with one decisive pull.

“Unbind.”

It was a sharp breathless feeling.

A sudden relief, followed by a sense of loss. A kind of detachment, brief but deeply harrowing like losing a limb to a cleave, losing the weight of it all at once, where the curse tethered to him had been released, his control slipping, senses disoriented. Severed. It wasn’t bound to his will anymore.

Resentful in its newfound freedom, the many-limbed curse lunged at him to attack, hands spread out and reaching, eyes crimson and pulsing wide when it set its sights on him.

Snapping out of his stupor, Geto was quick to react with a bolt. Shadow and silhouette bloomed under the ground by a summon, and what stretched forth was his massive hookworm curse, mouth gaping open to devour the Grade Two, and now, snapping shut for the kill before disappearing entirely from his bidding.

Geto would have rather reserved the curse for later, but he won’t gamble losing another one to your technique.

“Personally, I think we’re a bad match,” you mused aloud.

Then your strings whipped at him in a lightning second. Evading them, Geto leapt back and landed aptly on his feet.

“Especially when I can bind and unbind things with my inherited technique. Seals, shikigami, curses … hm, I suppose yours is an interesting case,” you stared at him thoughtfully before shrugging. “But it’s a kind of attachment either way.”

“Now you’re showing your cards,” Geto hissed out a breath, running through a new game plan.

“Sure, why not.” Your mouth broke into an easy grin. “Keeps the ball rolling, you know?”

There was a cool refinedness in your stance, feet anchored to the ground while your hands were doing all the fighting: flexed out, full of precise flourishes albeit strained, with strings unspooling from your deft fingers. The distance worked to your advantage, though closing it between the both of you was jumping headfirst into a trap in itself.

Geto surmised. But—

“I’d rather end this sooner.”

Mind set and carried by a surge of adrenaline, Geto sprinted towards you, dodging each assault for a closer range, until your strings finally coiled around his wrist, and in reaction, he tugged at it in a vice-grip with a strong pull; drawing out a look of shock from you, and then an eager anticipation. Your body shifted into a steady position, ready and waiting, arms posed for a counterattack.

Geto kept on his pace, charging at you with a wave of his free hand; darkness unfurling and taking shape of a half-formed spirit. Eyes wary of another summoned curse, you took the bait when you made another motion with your other hand, and he took it as a sign of withdrawing the curse back and kicking dust on your face, temporarily blinding you. The strings loosened on him. You recoiled.

When your guard was lowered, Geto seized the chance to swing his foot up at you; a swift kick to your forearm, minutely braced into a block to offset the full brunt of it, but it was powerful enough to send you skidding back your heels.

“Cheat,” you spat, cracking one vigilant eye on him.

Stubborn and quick to recover, you pulled at your strings to reel him in for a mean right hook, knuckles meeting his face. He was able to buffer the blow with his cursed energy, though the hit still landed, hard and fast.

“We’re even.” Geto winced from the bruise on his jaw. Your fist was imbued with cursed energy too, and now, was hurtling back at him with a ferocious amount of force. He side-stepped, dodging the hit that smashed against the tough bark of a tree, splintering it from the impact, and as you were about yank your arm back, he finally found his opening.

All it took was a faulty step; a split-second of being swept by the heel, knocking you off your momentum as you fell back to the tree, ensuring his victory through a newly summoned amorphous curse restraining your hands and feet.

Geto lunged forward. His fist hurtled down at you, mere inches from your face, until he felt something taut restrain his wrist and his wide eyes followed the cord curled around your two fingers, protruding out of the oozing wound of the curse grappling your hands.

Leaning back, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, kouhai! I forfeit.”

Geto stopped to think for a moment, and testing the string latched onto him with a careful tug, he cocked his head at you to ask. Just in case. “You sure?”

“Yes.” You rolled your eyes at him, blowing a strand of hair from your cheek. A faint waft of mint. “Unlike you, I can’t get my face bruised.”

It was only a fraction, but the insouciance of your smile cracked a little from the edges. More brittle and thinner, from whatever sentiment you hid between your lips. Regardless, he sensed no insincerity from your words.

It was his turn to sigh.

“All right.”

Once the string disentangled from his wrist, Geto stepped back from you, drawing in a raspy breath, as he held himself upright, still tense and arduous from the heat of the fight. He felt heavy from the sweat, dull ache, and spent adrenaline straining on his shoulders, the backs of his legs, everything. He wouldn’t have to undergo through this ordeal if he could only use his cursed technique against you.

“You’re right,” he admitted, tugging at his collar. “We’re really a bad match.”

“Told you,” you crooned.

A set-up? Geto considered it, recalling how they were separated in the fray with the other team; Gojo getting sidetracked at some point and you luring him here with your strings. “Was that intentional?”

“Everyone was counting on it,” you answered, wrenching out your hands from the curse in a violent splatter. “But honestly? The whole plan doesn’t matter in the end. We’re still worse off. And I’m no one’s backup either.”

Noticing his stunned reaction, you amusedly held out your open bloody palm at him. A gesture of reassurance. “Don’t sweat it. This is still your win.”

While Geto was still wary around you, he eased a little from your words. He nodded.

“If that’s the case, why did you go along with the plan?”

“Didn’t want to pass up something,” you said vaguely, looking back at him before tearing off the other curse clinging on your feet, cringing at the sight of gore on your shoes once it was split open by your fingers. “These things aren’t cute at all.”

“You could’ve been more careful with them,” Geto pointed out.

“Gotta get back at you somehow. They have teeth, you know.”

Which you nonchalantly ripped apart with your bare hands.

Before you could wipe off the blood on your hand to your skirt, Geto still went out of his way to give you his handkerchief for the mess, which you stared at for five agonizing seconds before accepting it with a mutter of thanks.

You began to clean your knuckles, bunching up the fabric on your palm. “Well, this is ruined.”

“Not really planning on getting it back,” said Geto, flipping up his phone. He received a photo of Gojo with some members of the other team, ragged and beaten shitless, followed by a text that went somewhere along the lines of everyone being so weak and a demand as to why he was taking so long.

“Geto-san.”

Geto snuck a glance back at you from his phone.

“You’re pretty strong for a first year.“ You hummed in thought and he listened more intently. "Ah, but that’s expected. Judging from the rumors circling around, I suspected you lot from Tokyo Tech were either a piece of work or something else.”

“Something.” Geto smiled.

“Cheeky.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Geto was going to reply back to Gojo until you chuckled, light and airy, drawing his attention back at you.

“Oh, and another thing,” you said, and for a moment, beneath the long spidery lashes, there was a quiet profoundness to your eyes that made a glance blur between an appraisal and a clarity one could find from a thin thread of interest, tugged up by a wry tilt of your lips.

“What kind of woman is your type?”

a/n: . . . that last line is so cursed. i wish todou was the one who asked. for context, reader is one of yuki’s students.

↣ side note: i thought satosugu were already both classified as special grades upon their enrolment like yuuta, but i didn’t realize later on that they were only promoted as special grades after the spv mission. i won't be rewriting this and will be keeping it as it is, but apologies for getting those details wrong!

↣ side note: nvm. i caved. [revised: 04/17/21]

#suguru geto x reader #suguru getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #geto suguru #jjk #short drabble #pen writes #i just want to swoon how badass geto is as a tactical figther #and i want reader to be badass too so...#musubi

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darksaiyangoku · 4 years ago

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Jaune Arc: The Batman Pilot

Hell. It's not a place of fire and brimstone. Hell is dark, cold and smells of blood. It's violent, cruel and unforgiving. However, it's innocent that suffer here while the sinners roam free. Our hell is their paradise. Many call it hell, but we know it by another name.

Gotham.

Inside a gloomy cave was Gotham's most famous resident; Jaune Arc. The son of Noir and Blanche, Jaune was descendant of knights. For centuries, the Arcs were regarded as the most courageous and loyal knights in Gotham's history and Jaune was carrying on their legacy to protect the people, though in a way that broke the tradition of his family.

Thumbelina: Master Arc, will be going out again this evening?

Jaune turned his chair and faced his maid, Thumbelina Peach.

Jaune: You know that I have to.

Thumbelina: Master... please reconsider.

Jaune: I'm sorry, Thumbelina, but until Gotham is free from the criminals and the corrupt, I won't rest. They need the Batman.

Thumbelina: They need JAUNE ARC, not some reckless vigilante!

Jaune: I have to go. *gets up*

Thumbelina: I can't... I won't let you do this! *grabs Jaune's arm*

Jaune: *speaks softly* Please. Please let me go.

Thumbelina: But-

Jaune: I can't let anyone else suffer. Not the way I did. Please, Thumbelina.

Reluctantly, Thumbelina released her grip from Jaune and let him walk off. Placing his hand on a scanner, the cabinet opened to reveal the his father's old armour. Once beautifully white, the armour was now jet black and the Arc crest was replaced by an emblem of a silver bat. The most frightening feature was the helmet, reforged to resemble a bat's head.

Jaune: *deep sigh* It's time.

[Crime Alley]

Several people in red masks loaded crates into a white van. One of them became frantic as at how careless they were.

Red 1: Easy there! This is pressurised gas!

Red 2: And? It's just oxygen. If we drop any of this, we'll at least breathe a little easier. I dunno why you're getting so worked about it anyway.

Red 1: I happen to be an expert. I'm a chemistry teacher at the high school near the narrows and-

Red 2: Woah! Stop right there! The rules are very clear, the boss doesn't want any of us to know who we are, got it? We're just numbers, got it?

Red 1: Sorry, I just... I wanna get this over with. I'm worried the cops might spot us.

Red 2: *snorts* Yeah right. You're worried about him, aren't you?

Red 1: W-Well...

Red 2: Come on, he's nothing but a myth. Probably made up by the Falcone's to scare off any rival gangs. There haven't been any knights here for centuries. They died out the day the Arcs were shot. I know this place like the back of my hand and this so-called "Batman" is nothing but a myth. Alright, hand me the last crate. 1?

Red 2 turned from the van to find his comrades lying on the floor, beaten. A chill ran down his spine as he took out his knife. He darted around the alley, swinging and slashing the blade at every turn.

Red 2: Show yourself!

Batman: Be careful what you wish for.

Red 2 leaped back and terror. He tried to swing the knife, only to have his arm caught by the Batman. With a single squeeze, the knife fell from his hand.

Red 2: W-What the hell are you?

Red 2 found himself shoved against the wall and a tight grip on his throat.

Batman: I'm vengeance.

SLAM!

#rwby #jaune arc #thumbelina peach #rwby au #batman #jaune arc: the batman #pilot #test run

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kabira · 4 years ago

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09 | scientific inspiration

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 3.6k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none.

note — so here it is, the big Science Dump that will form the basis for one of the major arcs of the story. now, i don’t pretend to know too much of what i’m talking about, but hopefully all the hours of scrolling through obscure genetics articles will hold up. hell, they probably won’t, but this is superhero fiction about a sixteen-year-old man-spider vigilante, so please excuse it !!! a lot of this is borrowed from the ultimate spider-man comics lore by brian michael bendis.

Vernon was still thinking about Luce’s offer when he got to work later that day.

Normally, he would have tried to keep his head clear during his work, but since all he had to do that day was log data entries, it didn’t really matter. Doc hadn’t come back to the lab yet, so it was just him and the janitor, but from the open holograph display on his table, Vernon figured he’d be back pretty soon. Despite the state of his office, the doctor didn’t like messes, especially not in his workplace.

He hadn’t expected Luce to even consider inviting the others, even though she had been friendly with them. Movie night was something that belonged to just the four—three—of them, something sacred and untouched by outsiders. The thing that had surprised him even more was his own willingness. For someone who had been so acutely ticked off by their unannounced arrival, he sure had warmed up to his new teammates quickly.

Vernon was only a few entries in when Dr. Connors entered the lab, holding a cup of steaming coffee from the cafeteria. He smiled at Vernon when he came in, not bothering to glance at the screen to check what he was doing before making his way over to the work table. One of the things Vernon liked the most about this place was that despite being nothing more than a research assistant, he was still allowed to help out in more impactful ways than simply entering and saving data.

“You’re here early,” Dr. Connors said, setting down the Styrofoam cup on his table. He looked tired, Vernon noticed, probably why he had bought that cafeteria coffee despite it being a thick, dark color and tasting like tar. There were dark circles under his blue eyes, and his usually neatly combed brown hair was slightly disheveled.

“I came here directly after school was over,” Vernon said. “Figured I’d save a lot more time that way, and I don’t really have much left to do.”

“Hm?” The scientist faced the holographic model, hitting a few keys on the pad below it. His movements were listless, but his shoulders were still tense. Reminds me of seniors before finals, Vernon thought. It wasn’t exhaustion like he had assumed, but stress. “Then perhaps you’d like to help me out here.”

“Really?” Vernon tried to keep the excitement out of his voice, but failed. Probably for the better, because it sparked a small smile on Dr. Connors’s face. “What are you working on right now?”

He didn’t get an answer for a long moment. Vernon spun in his chair and pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the remains of exhaustion weighing his body down as he made his way over to the doctor’s table.

“It’s something your father and I were working on before…before this project was abandoned, almost a decade ago,” Dr. Connors said. He was looking at the display with a different kind of intensity in his eyes, like it was something to be defeated rather than discovered. “When I lost your father, I gave up all hope of ever getting back to it, but after all my recent failures, I think I need to revisit my roots.”

Vernon pursed his lips at failures, but said nothing. The hologram looked like a DNA strand—a double helix blown to the size of a poster tube. It shone with a dull blue light, lighting up Dr. Connor’s features, illuminating the creases around his mouth and eyes that Vernon wasn’t sure had been there before. Standing next to him made his own tiredness feel like a minor inconvenience.

“This was your father’s brainchild, after all,” the man said, still staring at the display. “A completely independent protoplasmic model based on the body’s own genetic edifice built to fortify the weaker structure of a sick body.”

“A protoplasmic model?” Vernon’s eyes widened. “I thought it was supposed to be controlled AI, like nanobots or something.”

“Imagine that, except a sentient being with the ability to detect and eradicate weaknesses in the body on its own, without any direction,” Dr. Connors said. “Something to cure everything—the right combinations of proteins able to use the body’s own natural resources to fight any infection, overcoming the problem of grafting and able to treat everything from neural atrophy to genetic diseases to cancer, contained in a small tubule.” His eyes shone. “The perfect cure.”

The perfect cure. Vernon glanced back at the holographic model, now seeing the inconsistencies in its structure when compared to normal human DNA. The idea was intoxicating and exhilarating, made even more amazing by the fact that it had been proposed by his father. It made his chest ache with longing, thinking of the possibilities of fulfillment if his father had been alive still—not just for the experiment, but for Vernon himself.

“He was way ahead of his time, Richard Parker—in that sense, you are a lot like him,” Dr. Connors murmured in a low, wistful voice, as if speaking to himself. “It had become almost impossible for us to receive any support or funding for our project, because of how wildly imaginative it was. We were ridiculed, discredited, called mad for our ideas before we finally got the deal with Oscorp. We had worked on the cure for so long, and just a couple of days before the deal’s signing, your father called me one night, sounding excited about a fresh prospect.” He shook his head. “But then…”

He didn’t need to complete his sentence. Vernon caught the drift of it, and turned away to hide the pained expression brought onto his face by the flood of emotions. He didn’t know if he felt good about being so close to his father’s work, or bad about being so far away from his father himself. Even the mere presence of his old colleague, still alive while he wasn’t, seemed to taunt Vernon.

Snap out of it, he told himself firmly. His father’s death hadn’t been Dr. Connors’s fault—he knew that, but still had to avoid even thinking of that idea, because once the seeds had been planted in his brain, Vernon knew he wouldn’t be able to work with Dr. Connors in harmony. Plus, watching him talk about the work he and his dad had done together, no one could say that the scientist didn’t care about his former partner.

“What did he discover?” Vernon prompted.

Dr. Connors’s eyes turned sad. “I never did get to find out,” he said. “Just two days after the call, he was finally going to come back to the state to share his discoveries with me, so we could compare notes and build on what was lacking. The first step to phase two, he called it.” His jaw tightened. “And just when we thought something was going to go right for once…”

Vernon hung his head. Maybe knowing his father had been on the verge of a breakthrough should have made him feel better about his achievements, but he only thing that Vernon could think about was what all the world had lost when he had lost his dad. A revolution in medicine. A father. He was almost a little uneasy thinking about which kind of loss affected him more. The world could have been a much better place, but all Vernon wanted was his dad back.

“I’ve been unfair to you, Vernon,” Dr. Connors said, breaking him out of his reverie. He straightened while keeping his eyes fixed on the DNA hologram, then faced Vernon with a sad look. “You should have had someone to help you come to terms with your father’s death, someone who could have told you about his great ideas and even greater work. I shouldn’t have left you alone to deal with everything, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to…”

His voice had lowered with every syllable until he trailed off, making Vernon think that his voice had finally become too small for anyone to hear. Vernon swallowed, unable to think of anything to say. He was usually good at talking to people, even heart-to-hearts, but when the subject touched his obscure past, words failed him.

“I understand,” he said, the first words that came to his blank mind. He tried for a reassuring smile, unsure of what the result actually looked like. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for it. And anyway, I am here now.”

Dr. Connors smiled a little. “That, you are,” he said. “I feel like I’ve been doing your genius intellect a great injustice by assigning you all these menial tasks.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta do the menial tasks, right?” He smiled back. “My experience with research is next to nothing compared to that of the other people in this lab, so I’m fine with where I am. And not all the tasks are exactly menial.”

“Still.” The man sighed. “Since it was your father’s genius that came up with this idea, it feels only right to have you develop it further—or at least play a role in its creation.”

“I’m here whenever you need me,” Vernon said, glad about the lightening of the atmosphere. He wasn’t sure how much more of that weight he could have taken. He cocked his head, studying the listed proteins. “What made you want to work on this ‘cure’ again after so long?”

“A lot of different reasons,” the scientist said. “I think I had been avoiding this project for so long because I couldn’t bear to continue it without Richard by my side, but meeting you, his son, and having you take up a position in my lab felt like a sign.” He gave the boy a sideways smile. “And from a scientific viewpoint—before this, I’d been working on a different kind of cure, a serum with a principle based in cross-species genetics. It was supposed to be give a person the ability to regenerate lost limbs like a lizard, but the premature human trials went off the rails.”

Vernon nodded, keeping his mouth clamped shut. “I see,” he said, not wanting to bring up the Lizard incident unless he was sure Dr. Connors was ready to address it.

“However, after someone helped…fix the problem by making an anti-serum, the new formula for it gave me an idea,” the man continued. “Scientific inspiration, I guess you could call it. There’s a lot to be done, but I still have the anti-serum here in the lab, and have been studying it for over a month now.”

The gears had already begun turning in Vernon’s head. He had been the one to create the anti-serum as Spider-Man, and no one knew the methodology better than the original creator. Most of it had stemmed from the original Lizard formula, and with a bit of recalibration and measured reversal, the formula had worked. That makes me wonder…

“Hey, doc,” he murmured, brow pinched into a thoughtful frown, “if you had a sample of perfectly bonded human and non-human cell structure, do you think you would be able to mimic it and engineer a matching structure for the cure?”

The man frowned. “How do you mean?”

“I mean…” Vernon hesitated. Because of the OZ formula transferred into his blood by the spider bite, his DNA was perfectly bonded to spider DNA, which gave him what they called in post-human-speak a ‘healing factor’. It wasn’t as effective as Wolverine’s, but it was still something—and it was based on the same principle as the cure. Like the OZ formula helped his body develop a natural cure for anything he could be hit by—be it a paper cut or a head wound—by using its own resources.

The only difference was that it heightened his facilities by combining human abilities with spider abilities, which gave him things like his spider sense. However, if Vernon could use his own blood to develop a kind of skeletal structure for the cure. If it did work, it would only work on enhanced spider/human DNA, but at least then he’d have a start. The possibilities after that were endless.

“If there already existed a perfect sample of blood which had an in-built system like the cure,” Vernon said, trying not to give away too many details.

“Like mutant DNA?” Dr. Connors asked. “They have a completely different genetic structure in place, though, Vernon. They have the X-Gene. Their nucleotide sequence itself is mutated.”

“No, not like that,” Vernon said. “Like human DNA, just…enhanced. Bonded with something like the cure, just not—not living.”

Dr. Connors raised his eyebrows. “Well, having a perfect sample would reduce the needed brainwork to a tenth,” he said. “But you couldn’t acquire a sample like that, because, well, it exists only in theory.”

“Right,” Vernon muttered, but already the beginnings of a smile had started to curve his lips. “Only in theory.”

Vernon’s mind was buzzing with so much excitement from his idea for the cure that even web-slinging hadn’t been able to distract him from it.

He and the rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D. team had spent the evening scouring the city for any signs of something that could substantiate Vernon’s theory, but had come up with nothing except a few petty criminals, who had been easily stopped. The other three had left early, telling him to use their new communication devices (which looked an awful lot like kitschy wrist bands, except for the fact that they could turn invisible) if anything came up.

Nothing did.

It was nine p.m. and Vernon had still not changed out of his Spidey suit, spending the free hour to swing around the city and try and clear his head. Too much had happened in one day, and his mood was seesawing between elation at his new project and trepidation because of the dreaded return of movie night. Funny that a high school hangout was a source of more nervousness for him than trying to imitate his own radioactive blood sample to finish his dad’s decades old design.

When I put it like that, it sounds even more absurd, he thought, scrolling through the usual evening homework-help texts on his phone as he waited in line to buy eggs and a carton of milk at the not-so-local grocery store. Even Spider-Man had to obey queues when he was out doing chores for Aunt May.

He paid for the eggs and milk without the tattooed cashier giving him a second glance, and stepped out into the street with the bags. Aunt May wouldn’t be back until ten; he had about an hour to kill until curfew, but he wanted to get home early to talk to her about movie night (yet another reaction to dread) and hopefully study his spidery OZ-bonded radioactive blood under the lens of his old microscope that Uncle Ben had gotten him over a year ago.

“Yo, Spidey!”

Vernon looked up to see a chubby, tanned guy in his late twenties beaming at him like an old friend as he jogged up to meet him. “Hey, I remember you,” he said, pointing at the guy. “You’re uhhh…” He squinted at him, trying to remember when he’d last seen him. “That pizza delivery guy who almost got abducted by aliens!”

“That’s me! Paulo!” the guy exclaimed, his wide smile widening even more upon being recognized. “You saved me from those killer robot aliens last month, remember? And I promised you free pizza in case you ever needed it,” he added. “How’s it going?”

“As usual.” He raised the bag containing the groceries he’d just bought.

“Running errands when you get a break from crime-fighting, eh?” Paulo asked, giving his thick dark curls a shake. His smile refused to dim even a bit, like someone had switched on a light bulb with a permanent power source. “Keeps the superheroes humble.”

“Tell that to Captain America.” Vernon checked the comm device on his wrist, almost groaning out loud when he saw it was almost half past nine already. “Great. Uh, Paulo, I’ll have to catch you later. It’s late, and I gotta get back well before curfew in case there are delays on the way.”

“Of course! Go do your Spider-Man thing.” Paulo lifted his hands, mimicking the thwip-thwip gesture of shooting webs, and grinned. “See you later, Spidey!” he called out from behind him as Vernon swung himself up to a lamppost before launching himself into the air. “Remember the offer with the free pizzas still stands!”

“I will!” Vernon yelled back as he swung away. And he wasn’t just saying that, either—free pizzas were free pizzas.

He had to change in an alleyway again, but thankfully this time it didn’t have an open dumpster or smell like someone had thrown out a decayed cheese slab in the trash. By the time he got back home, Aunt May was already back, as indicated by the lights in the kitchen. Just perfect, he thought miserably, as he unlocked the front door with his spare key and trudged into the hallway.

“Vernon! You’re back early,” a voice yelled from the kitchen when she heard the door shut behind him. A woman with short silver hair, clad in a comfortable t-shirt and yoga pants came out into the living room as he entered it, wiping her hands with a hand towel. “Did you get the milk and eggs like I asked you to?” Aunt May asked.

For an older lady, she sure has great hearing. “Yep,” he said, swinging his bag off his shoulders and unzipping it, internally praying he hadn’t squashed the milk carton from all his swinging like last time. Thankfully, they were undamaged. “Did you come back from yoga classes early?”

“Oh, Denise pulled a muscle in her back, poor thing,” May said. “I offered to bring her back home, but she refused to let me ice it for her, saying she’d get Mac to do it instead.” She disappeared into the kitchen once again, coming out without the hand towel this time. “Put the groceries in the fridge, won’t you?”

For an older lady, Aunt May also had a lot of things going for her. Yoga classes on Monday-alternating weekdays, squash sessions over the weekend, classes for baking and music and whatnot—she might even have been busier than Vernon himself.

“Will do,” he said, obeying. His mind was still swimming with all the older thoughts, but now that he was standing right in front of Aunt May, the worry about movie night had pushed itself to the forefront, demanding all of his nervous attention.

He stood at the fridge even after closing the door, chewing his lip and wondering how to bring it up. Words really had failed him today. “Aunt May?” he ventured, unable to keep the hint of nerves from his voice. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What is it, honey?” she asked, poking her head out of the kitchen. Around her waist was an apron that said Don’t Kiss the Cook. “Vernon?”

He kissed his teeth, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet. “It’s about movie night.”

She stilled. “What about movie night?”

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, Vernon thought, pursing his lips. Aunt May hadn’t exactly been close with the Osborns, but he knew she had cared about Harry in her own way, the same way she cared about any neglected kid that Vernon brought home like an abandoned cat. She gave them as much comfort as she could, tried to give them the family they never really had, even if she knew she couldn’t completely replace them. It had happened before: Harry, and Luce—and now, Vernon thought with a little sigh, maybe even the team.

“Luce asked me to ask you if you were okay with us doing movie night this weekend,” he said slowly. “And there are these new kids, and she told me to ask them too, but if you’re busy we can always—”

“Vernon!” Aunt May smiled widely, coming out of the kitchen to rest her hands on his shoulders and give them a big squeeze. “Of course I’m okay with it! Oh, you don’t know how I wished you kids would do one of those again, I’m sure that’s what Harry would have wanted too.” She gave him a motherly smile, one that was soft and sad at the same time. “I’ll leave the house to you kids that day.”

“Oh, no, Aunt May, that’s not necessary—” he started, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t be so formal with me, kiddo,” she said. “I know movie night means a lot to you, and if you have new friends coming over, I’m sure you don’t want a chaperone around.” She raised her eyebrows. “Although I would like to meet them before I go out.”

Vernon sighed, but there was a tiny smile on his face. “God, you’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She winked. “Besides, even an old woman like me needs to go out with her friends every once in a while, too. This might just turn out to be a good break for both of us.”

He nodded, feeling a welling of emotion in his chest that wouldn’t go down no matter how much he tried to push it away. One less thing to worry about, he thought half-heartedly, trying not to think about how Aunt May’s agreement meant movie night was on, which had the potential to be an even more worrying prospect. “I hope so.”

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