#I will say the main thing I still get worried about is like. Do I dissociate? Am I dissociated enough?? I just genuinely cannot tell at all.
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In Stars and Time But It's a Musical (Part 1)
Okay hi I need to tell you all about this concept.
First off all I just need to say credit to @openphrase123 for the amazing 'ISAT but as a ballet' posts (here and also here and there definitely more but those are some of the big ones) which definitely inspired some choices here and in general inspired me to do this.
So basically I'm a big old musical theater person (and specifically musician / singer) so I've been fleshing out concepts for a what a musical re-telling of In Stars and Time might look like. I'm honestly not going to get into like... the logistics of how you could actually do it, because even with condensing a lot of things Musicals aren't typically long enough to tell this kind of story, so we're just... ignoring that when I don't have ideas to get around it.
We will start with all of the main characters, their voice types, and their characteristic musical styles!
Mirabelle Mira is our soprano, but mostly her singing and music is very much in the style of Disney Renaissance musicals. Think Belle, Ariel, Hercules, etc. I think it fits her up beat but still sometimes anxious personality. Near the end of each King Fight she gets a cool high notes as she finally has some true confidence in herself!
Bonnie Bonnie would be played by a younger performer with an unchanged voice. This wouldn't really be a dance heavy show, but when there is dancing they would take the lead b/c that's cute. In terms of their singing though it's mostly inspired by classic kid characters from Broadway, namely Annie, The Artful Dodger, and Matilda (especially for their more emotionally intense moments). Their music isn't as difficult, and in group numbers they typically sing the melody with at least one other person.
Odile Odile is the alto of the quintet. It helps her sound more mature than Mirabelle and fits her vibe of not taking on the flashy role. Her music leans a bit more classical, almost Gilbert and Sullivan-esque in her more playful moments. Overall though it tends to be a bit more melodically challenging, but not super fast or syncopated. There would be melodic and instrumental flourishes in her music unique to her that are basically 'Ka Buan' musical elements.
Isabeau Leading man baritone! His style also fairly standard musical theater, but leans a touch more modern in it's styling to accommodate his more emotionally open vibe. He'll have the pop-inspired rhythms and chord progressions, but in group numbers he's the rock solid bass part holding everything together.
Siffrin Siffrin... does not sing almost ever for the first chunk of the show outside of group numbers. He's a tenor, and helps fill out the harmonies, but the impression the audience should get at the start is that they aren't really a soloist. As the loops go on, they gain a bit more confidence, taking bits and pieces of all of the other character's musical / singing styles as they go on. They don't get a full length solo to themselves until Mal du Pays. But the character that most influences their style is...
Loop Loop is full on Broadway Jazz, baby! Syncopated rhythms, brassy sound, fast patter lyrics, the whole shebang. Don't look behind the curtain at what all that glitter might be hiding, stardust~
The King Super bass, in the tradition of opera villains usually being basses. At first the only super stand out thing about his singing is that his range is so distinct, but in later encounters he gets both more delicate moments and moments where the true power of his voice to intimidate comes through.
(Also yes all of the Forgotten Island peeps will have a few musical elements in common to set them apart don't you even worry we'll get to it :3)
Euphrasie The Head Housemaiden has a short little mini song she does for the first bit of her speech. It's simple and catchy. Every time it transitions into her final speech as the musical motifs are distorted.
Dormont The people of Dormont sing mostly in a grand opening number ala the opening numbers for Beauty and the Beast, Fiddler on the Roof, The Music Man, etc. Little bits and pieces of the song come back in various combos and Sif loops and jumps around asking people new things. They would also double as disembodied voices for certain musical numbers that could use extra voices for full out harmony, dramatic effect, etc.
More will be coming soon, so I hope you enjoyed my ramblings.
#isat#in stars and time#isat spoilers#in stars and time spoilers#isat siffrin#isat loop#isat mirabelle#isat bonnie#isat odile#isat isabeau#isat king#isat euphrasie#isat musical au#isat au#Is this enough tags I'm still new at this
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hii nini!! could i request vernon + soft prompt 24?
love your writing smm hope ur doing well!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
hi baby!! aw, thank you so much, hope you're doing well too! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!
fluff prompt: 'you have a beautiful soul.'
you're not a stranger to the compliments. people comment on your physical appearance more often than not and while you obviously find it flattering and nice, you cannot help to find these words shallow and meaningless. when you put your effort into the work with your whole heart and then don't hear a word about your skills but instead get 'and you are so pretty!' is... discouraging. you wish someone mentioned something, anything else - about your work ethic, how hard working you are, how sincere you're in your approach to all of the animals in the shelter-
'your pretty face is really doing wonders to this shelter, by the way. i think a lot of people stop by just to look at you.' jaehyun, main owner, says. he's smiling like he just told the best joke ever.
you know that he means well, but your smile is still forced and you only nod at him, not offering anything else as he bids you and vernon goodbye. with your head down and full focus on a new puppy, you miss vernon's worried gaze and how he looks thoughtful, staring at the way you gingerly wash puppy's ears.
'he didn't mean to downplay your work here,' he eventually says, surprising you. vernon is not very talkative and mostly you two work in relative silence. 'jaehyun, i mean. he didn't mean it like you think.'
'no, i know.' you smile and it's forced again. you quickly glance up, meeting his gaze before instantly looking back down. 'i get it.'
vernon stares at you for some more moments before blurting out: 'i think you have a beautiful soul.' you face must show how shocked you are, because he blushes a little and shrugs like what he said haven't just pulled the ground from your feet. 'i- sorry. it's not like you were interested in my opinion.'
your heart is at your throat as you stare up at him, mouth agape. 'you- really?'
vernon looks up at you, slightly confused. 'yes? i mean yeah, yes.' and then after some hesitation he asks: 'you don't think so?'
you don't know what to think. you, in fact, are few seconds away from bursting into tears and that is embarrassing. 'thank you,' you manage to whimper before tears come falling. 'it means a lot.'
vernon's expression softens and he silently hands you pack of tissues, looking at you as if you're the most fragile thing that should be treated with all the delicacy. you sniff and he pretends to be engrossed at his work, carefully taking puppy from your lap. 'take your time,' he says gently, smiling at you and pointing towards the toilets. 'it's all okay.'
vernon is not judging you for this stupid outburst and nor does he find it embarrassing. if anything, he wants to reassure you even more, tell you how wonderful he thinks you are, but one step at a time, he guesses. one step at a time.
a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini
#seventeen imagine#seventeen fluff#seventeen reaction#seventeen x reader#seventeen vernon imagine#seventeen vernon#seventeen hansol#vernon fanfic#vernon imagine#vernon chwe#svt x reader#svt imagine#svt vernon#svt hansol#svt hansol imagine#svt vernon imagine#seventeen prompt
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⚠️arcane s2 act iii spoilers // caitvi ending commentary ⚠️
the difference between the last individual scenes of vi and caitlyn, and the one they shared actually made me sob, so vhere's my analysis of what it all meant
caitlyn is at home, in her family mansion in piltover. her monologue seems to be a messege or an archive for the kirammans or historians after her; she's also looking at the kiramman house files, a family heirloom, a symbol of her legacy and her station, a connection to her mother. she's perhaps looking for something needed in order to start rebuilding the city, perhaps checking if jinx could still be somewhere out there, maybe even seeing what ekko saw about the undercity's vents and water ducts. she still seems to have purpose, or to be in search of one for herself.
vi is also in caitlyn's house in piltover, but she's not with caitlyn. in a city not her own, in a house not her own, it seems she's chosen to sit in a room alone with her thoughts, staring at the fireplace. we hear her humming the tune to a song her mother used to sing, the same one jinx was humming when we first saw her this season - vi's small comfort, the faintest memory from those before her, and nothing to leave to those after her. no roots and no legacy. she's grieving everyone and everything she's lost. stripped of will and void of purpose.
caitlyn is excited to hear vi humming a song. we don't know how long it's been since the war ended, but this implies she hasn't been doing much other than sitting by herself in silence in quite some time. she's become a shell of herself, and caitlyn is worried - she's there for her but doesn't want to push her either. she asks her if she's "still in the fight", and this is a loaded question that i can see two main meanings in - one notably sadder.
1) are you still in there?
what part of you is left, and is it strong enough to keep fighting this state you're in? do you have it in you to keep going? do you have the will to live in spite of it all? is there any fight left in you? are you still with me, or are you just in the room?
and i feel like caitlyn knows the answer but wants to hear it from vi, check in on her and encourage her to open up if she's feeling ready to. because she heard her humming to herself.
and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't mean it in a cute, flirty or romantic way. she means it in a self-deprecating "i know i'm not being easy right now" kind of way.
i'm not fun to be around, to have to take care of and wait around for. i'm making things harder for you and i'm holding you back by not cooperating and just getting better. i can't help it.
and she adds onto this, "nothing's ever gonna clean me out"
you're stuck with me. i'm a nuisance to you but i can't leave you because you're all i have left. i think i'm lost and broken beyond repair. i'm crooked. i think i'll never be okay again.
2) have you given up on zaun?
are you still in on fighting the system? have you given up on trying to make others see your people for who you are? do you still have hope in the dream for unity and freedom for zaun?
it sounds like caitlyn does, and she's still up for it, just like she was in the latter half of the first season, before jinx kidnapped her, tried to get vi to kill her, and blew up the counsil building just as its members were about to vote for zaun's sovereignty, killing caitlyn's mother. but caitlyn can't do it on her own - it's vi's home, vi's people, vi's identity - and she needs to know if vi still believes they can change something.
and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't literally mean caitlyn, or herself. she means the opposing poles they represent - piltover and zaun, oppressor and oppressed, a pristine policewoman and a crooked criminal. until piltover's view of the undercity and its people changes, zaun will always be a torn in its side, fighting it, defying it, trying to free itself from its clutches. small, perhaps insignificant, an inconvenience, but a part of it that it can't get rid of or erase. it'll always be there, it'll always fight back.
and when she says nothing's ever gonna clean her out, she means she'll never be bent out of shape and lose that part of herself - the ugly, dirty, raggedy part that grew up on the streets of zaun and was raised among all the tragedy, misery and poverty of the undercity. a product of the system. she'll never let that be "washed out" of her, she won't forget her origin or her goals. this is who she is, her identity - not just in the eyes of piltover, but in her own heart - a zaunite.
EDIT: i also saw this interpretation on tiktok if you're interested. to summarize: there's a spanish saying "like nails and dirt" which is used to refer to two people who are inseparable, so this is a testimony of vi's love for caitlyn having given her reason to keep going and stay by her.
#arcane act 3#arcane league of legends#arcane 2#arcane vi#arcane powder#arcane jinx#vi#vi and caitlyn#cait and vi#vi x caitlyn#caitvi#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#arcane caitlyn#arcane caitvi#arcane critical#arcane season finale#arcane season 2#arcane season two#arcane s2#arcane#arcane spoilers#arcane zaun#arcane piltover#piltover and zaun#vi the piltover enforcer#the undercity#arcane undercity
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i'm not putting blame on chris lmao are you stupid? i'm not blaming him for the tsunami either but if eddie behaved like the diaz parents are behaving they wouldn't be building a pool to try and distract chris and keep him in texas because he would never have gone near the water again. eddie and chris should be working things out together but they're not because his parents care more about their second chance baby than what's best their son and grandson.
...are you really taking this fight to an entire different blog?
you're not actually basing this on anything that happened in the show. you hate the diaz parents and so are ascribing them all these nefarious intentions. there is zero evidence that they are trying to distract chris and keep him in texas.
and what i said still stands. the only "issue" chris has right now is a trust issue with dad, which is absolutely completely 100% earned. yeah, eddie is the main character of the two, he's whose head we're in during this story, but some of y'all need to actually put yourself in chris' shoes about this, because it's really not some simple thing to get over. thinking your dead parent has come back to life, only to find that no, that's not your mom, your mom is still dead, this is just a woman that looks absolutely identical to her, down to the hair and clothes! because chris never saw her as kim, only as the shannon!doppler. and your dad has been secretly seeing this woman who looks like your dead mother for weeks.
i don't think some of y'all grasp how fucked up that is. you're acting like eddie just kept a secret from chris or something. there is nothing chris needs to do, eddie is the only one who needs to work on his issues, and prove that to chris. can you honestly say eddie's done any of the work needed for chris to believe that? sitting and missing his son isn't going to heal him. shaving his mustache and dancing in his underwear isn't going to heal him. church might help in the healing but all that did was tell eddie he deserved to drink juice. therapy, talking about it, dealing with the repressed grief and anger about shannon and all that goes with their relationship, that is what eddie needs. and he has not done that.
a home pool and chess with grandpa isn't whats keeping him there. chris is still with the his grandparents and shows no signs of wanting to leave because he clearly doesn't have to worry about what he's walking into every time he opens the front door, unlike with eddie.
srsly, what would you have chris do? facetime eddie every night to listen to eddie apologize and promise it'll never happen again? tell me exactly what actions you think chris should be doing in this situation
#cleo gets mail#anonymous#911#eddie diaz#christopher diaz#i guess this is the we hate shitty parents fandom until your fave character is the shitty parent#and before ppl come at me because they can't understand something unless it's spelled out in 50 cent words#no i'm not saying eddie is a bad parent#i'm saying he did something that negatively affected his son in an extreme way#anyway i know this is a tv show and we're used to crazy things happening on tv#but i'm sorry that is an extremely fucked up thing for chris to witness and ppl want to brush over it so easily it's insane
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Rain Check
Relationship: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Request: No
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of a Case involving a Child (No Mentions of Death)
Word Count: 1,672
Main Masterlist: Here
Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here
Summary: When the team gets called out of town the day before Thanksgiving, Aaron has to beg for forgiveness from his wife. But the next week they’re home, he learns that he shouldn’t have felt guilty.
Consider Donating: Here
“We should certainly count our blessings, but we should also make out blessings count.” Neil A. Maxwell
Oh, his wife was going to kill him. This is how he went out. Aaron Hotchner, the formidable Unit Chief of the BAU, was slightly panicking as he was packing up his briefcase to take with him on the plane. His phone was out to call his wife, who was preparing for Thanksgiving dinner the next day, to tell her that they had been called out of town.
He sighed as he ran a hand across his forehead, already feeling the stress headache coming on from having to call her. This was going to be their first Thanksgiving as a married couple, and he had just hoped that they were able to have it. But, of course, that was not what the psycho and sociopaths of the world have in store for him.
There was one, two, three rings before her sweet honeyed voice answered with a cheerful, “Mr. Hotchner, to what do I owe this midday personal call? Not that I’m complaining.”
“Hey, honey. I’m uh- notgonnabehometomrrow,” he mumbled as fast as he could, causing her to have him repeat it.
“I won’t be home tomorrow for Thanksgiving. The team got called out to Nebraska on a child kidnapping case.” Aaron heard her take in a deep breath, and release it in a long sigh on the other end of the line.
“I am so sorry, honey. I know we had all those plans made, and you can still go have dinner with your family. I just… the team.” The longer he tried to justify his actions, the worse he felt about himself.
“Do you know when you’ll be home,” came her soft ask.
“No. These things, especially kidnapping cases, we never can predict how they’ll turn out. I’m hoping we’ll be home soon.”
“Okay. I’ll take Jack with me to dinner tomorrow. We’ll be fine, Aaron. Just focus on catching the bad guy.”
How he wished he could have. It had been five days since they touched down in Kearney, Nebraska. Five days, and they were right back to square one. Firstly, this unsub was crafty. He managed to throw suspension off of whomever it was and get another guy arrested. Every lead was turning out to be a dead end. And Aaron was pissed.
He had talked with his wife a little bit every morning and every night that he had been gone, but it did not hold a candle to the need he felt to be home. As he sat around the conference table they had been granted, Aaron pulled a bit on his tie to get it to loosen. A cup of mediocre cop shop coffee was placed in front of him, and an Italian sat next to him.
“I’m not gong to ask if you’re alright, because I know the answer to that. But I will say, it’s going to be fine.” The wisdom in his voice caused the younger man to stare him from where his chair was leaned back.
“I just want to go home, Dave. I want this case over with, and to go home. We never take this long on kidnappings. There has to be something that we’re missing.” The unit chief lamented, turning his face to the ceiling and shielding his eyes with his hands.
“We’ll catch him, Aaron. We always do. Don’t worry. Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, we haven’t found a body which means the kid is probably still alive.” Dave reassured, watching his friend closely.
“I know you were looking forward to spend the holiday with your lovely wife, but this is the job. Besides, she is more than likely not as upset as you think. Just put your head in the game, so we can get home sooner.” Rossi patted his knee, and left, shutting the door behind him. All that was left in the room was Hotch, the evidence board, and his own racing thoughts.
As much as he tried to remain focused, he could not help but think of his wife. And in doing so, he thought back to Hailey. She had only been able to take so much of him as unit chief before she threw in the towel. Would his current wife do the same if he kept having to cancel major and minor holidays for the sake of the team?
That was something that he never cared to think about, but it was a very real possibility. Hotch grabbed the cup of coffee and turned to the board behind him. The girl that had disappeared was the same age as Jack. She needed him now. Aaron really needed his head in the game. But the longer he stared at the evidence board, the more questions he got.
Had this girl been a newborn, he would have thought that this was a female abduction. Like a lightbulb flicking on, he sprang from his seat, and called the rest of the team in. From that point on, it was only a matter of time.
Coming home after six days away was like a breath of fresh air. It was late, almost midnight, when Hotch dragged his tired bones to the front door of his apartment. When he got inside, the sight made him chuckle as he disarmed his security system.
His wife was asleep on the couch with a bunch of laundry spread out around her. It honestly looked like a little nest that she had made for herself. Setting down his briefcase, and carefully stepping over the piles, his hand made contact with her arm and gently shook her awake.
“Aar, you’re home,” she mumbled sleepily.
“Yeah, I am. Let’s get you to bed, Mrs. Hotchner.” Aaron picked his wife up with little difficulty, before turning and making their way to bed. He placed her underneath their sheets, kissed her head, and went to take a shower.
His memory never recorded himself falling asleep, but he knew he did. Purely, for the simple fact that he awoke the next morning in his bed, with his wife already out of it. However, after checking the time on the clock, Aaron rushed to get ready to go into work. He took the fastest shower, put his suit on in record time, and was rushing to lace up his shoes.
“Good morning, dear. Why are you in such a hurry?”
Aaron paused in between doing the laces from tying his left shoe to look up to where his wife was standing in the kitchen. His mug was sitting on the table with some steaming coffee in it. A plate was in front of it filled with eggs, sausage, and toast.
“Um…” he trailed off, “going to work? It’s Tuesday.”
“Dave got you and the team the day off. Go change into something more comfortable, sweetie.” She giggled as she waved him off, back to the bedroom. As he did, he saw the counters filled with different preparations of side dishes. It confused him, but he was just thankful for the day off.
Coming back, Hotch was grateful that he could enjoy his day with his wife. He took his plate and pressed a kiss to her cheek while she went to sit with her own plate beside him. While they ate, she asked about the case they had just wrapped. Normally, this was not something that he liked bringing up, however, it felt nice to get it off of his chest.
Occasionally, when cases are this rough and long, it takes longer for him to decompress after the fact. Figuring out that someone was kidnapping a young girl to protect his wife that could not grapple with the fact that their daughter was dead; it was not something that you could easily comprehend. But, being able to talk to his wife and not a bureau mandated therapist was defiantly preferable.
Being able to go pick his son up from school was a welcomed change. However, his wife made sure to tell the Hotchner boys the second they got home to go get changed. He did not know why. All he knew was that the two adults, and Jack, were grabbing warmed dishes and heading out.
“Where are we going,” came his ask.
“You’ll see,” she replied.
The further they derived, the more he began to recognize the route they were on. Rossi’s mansion was quickly coming into view as they made the final turn into the driveway. Grabbing the dishes, the Hotchner’s went to the front door, and were greeted by their favorite Italian.
“Señora Hotchner, how I have missed you beautiful.” Dave pulled her in and took the dish from her hands with a kiss to each cheek.
“And I have missed you, Mr. Rossi.” Jack and Aaron followed after them. They were also greeted by Dave, and they placed their other dishes on the table outside, where a bunch of other food was already.
However, there was a sight that he never expected. The entire team was outside in the backyard. It was a massive party that he had no idea was going on. Garcia was with Derek and Emily already drinking wine. Will sat with Spencer who was shouting Henry magic tricks in the mean time.
Turning back to look at his wife who smirking an impish smile, he was confused, and knew it showed through on his face.
“I know you were upset about missing Thanksgiving last week. So I talked with Dave about maybe doing a redo.” Before he could stop himself, Aaron swooped down and kissed his wife passionately.
“Well, that is definitely one way to say thank you.” She said with a dazed smile.
“Come on, love birds. Let’s get this started.” Dave guided them to their seats, while Aaron was just thinking how thankful he was to have a wife like he did.
Catherine Pulsifier said, “Give thanks not just on Thanksgiving Day, but every day of your life.”
#rebelliousstories#writing#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#david rossi#spencer reid#emily prentiss#derek morgan#penelope garcia#jack hotchner
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The thing I love most about Billy Hargrove is his unpredictability, in a show where we can see every other character’s moves from MILES away. Even those who had the potential to be the most interesting are either side-lined, ignored or return to old patterns (see Johnatan, Will or Steve). Also, they all have one thing in common, even El: they all want to be good. To do good. To be heroes. And I would not find anything wrong with that, if it only weren’t for the predictability of it all.
We see Steve Harrington with the kids in a dangerous situation. What do we assume? That he is gonna throw himself in danger for them, because it’s what he has always done.
We see Nancy Wheeler on the battle field? Then there is a 100% chance she is gonna shoot at something.
Will Byers? He is gonna protect his friends, just like the rest of the party.
Jim hopper? Joyce Byers? Yeah. Same thing.
Billy Hargrove, tho? Jesus. He is introduced to this metal badass song, then the next minute he is taunting Steve Harrington, but not really because here he is, actually giving him good advice and- yeah no, he pushed him onto the ground again. But wait, wait! He actually told him not to worry about the break up because he could basically have anyone he wanted with a face like that… aaaand yeah, he is back to being an ass.
We see him not giving a crap about his sister, yet later he is asking her if a boy has been bothering her. Then he grabs her wrist and tells her very hurtful things, yet he still tries to make it sound like a lesson. Like he had been that road before himself, many times.
We see him being stone cold, with an absent look in his eyes when he is with other people. Then we watch him dancing in his room and smiling as he gets ready for a date, and later we see him crying for the first time ever after being hit by his father. While watching the first minutes of that scene, I did not expect that to happen in the slightest.
We see him fake his concern for max to mrs. wheeler in order to get information, only to watch him refer to her as his sister when he realizes that Steve Harrington might have done something to her.
We have literally seen him trying to scare Max by driving at an ungodly speed, almost running her friends over, and almost killing Steve in a fit of rage, and then in the next season he is using every inch of his strength to protect a girl he didn’t even know from the Mind Flayer. I don’t know y’all, but I did NOT see all of that coming.
And do you know who, after his death, becomes the most interesting ST character among the protagonists? Max. We see a crack in her armour of perfection, thanks to her rocky relationship with Billy: because she had wished him to die, sometimes. I loved that twist, because FOR ONCE I had a feeling that a character among the mains was deeply flawed and human. This is why billy was needed for longer in this story.
He forced the other characters to face their darkest side, their egotistical desires. Steve Harrington enjoyed violence, deep down. He was the one to start the fight, after all. And Billy had forced him to meet that side of himself again.
Max was so fed up with him that she had dreamed about his death sometimes, even tho we all know now that she didn’t mean it.
Karen Wheeler lusted after a boy her daughter’s age, only to be met with shame when she saw her husband and daughter asleep on the couch.
Honestly, all of this to say that Stranger Things can keep its perfect ‘didn’t-do-anything-wrong-aver’ characters, because honestly? I watch tv series to be entertained and surprised, and since Billy died he also took the dynamism of the series with him.
#billy hargrove#stranger things#stranger things meta#dacre montgomery#steve harrington#harringrove#max and billy
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POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#cw gore#jrwi suckening spoilers#jrwi suckening#jrwi gabriel#jrwi gabriel montez#LOOK FAMILIAR?hahahahahDONT WORRY#IM REUPLOADING THIS HERE BC i fixed up the drawing a lil. and also i wanted to add main tags#U WONT SEE ANY DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THISSUN N THE POST ON MY SIDEBLOG.i changed the image there too.HA!!!!!!!#ANYWAY.i rambled plenty about pain and gabe on my sideblog.SO LETS TALK ABT THE ART SHALL WE.ihad i very hard time getting the colors down#would u believe i nearly left this uncolored??FUCKED UP!! it was only a sketchhow did it end up like this. it was only a sketch...#BUT IM RLY GLAD I WENT W COLORING IT.this time i actually used the airbrush n pencil tools BUT i also have a handy dandy brush i made#its just the mspaint air brush tool. fucking LOVE THAT THING. but now its in fire alpaca and it can be slightly transparent.IT LOOKS SOGOOD#perfect for splatters and grime.i love you mspaint i love youuu.im also so happy w the blood here.i think i reached a shift last year#back when i made that genloss fanart something abt the way i draw blood finally CLICKED and im like OH. the inside must always be darker.#like i KNEW that already but it was like my hand itself finally had it click.i wonder what i will learn next?I LIKE THE ORGANS HERE TOO#not as veiny or thready as i usually draw em. but i think thats fine. not as WET as id like em to be but thats also fine.#i got the point across. the point ofc being WOW THIS IS GRUESOME AND PAINFUL AND TERRIBLE#I LOVE HIS EXPRESSION.i love pain and thinking abt pain. you lose yourself to it after enough time passes of just being in an ocean o agony#at one point its just too tiresome to scream or writhe. theres a point when the body accepts it.sometimes.atleast.#OHHH GABRIEL AS A CHARACTER DELIGHTS ME SO MUCH.he is a dog to me.a thing to serve others.I WISH I KNEW MORE#WHAT ELSE DID YOU WANT BOY?? SURE POWER AND SECURITY AND SAFETY ARE NICE.BUT DID YOU HAVE DREAMS? WANTS? PASSIONS?#WHAT WAS THE STORY BEHIND THAT TIGER TATTOO ON YOUR ARM?WHAT DO THE DOGTAGS SAY BOY?I WISH I COULD HAVE TEA W U#OHHH TO SIT DOWN WITH A CHARACTER AND JUST SPEAK TO THEM. AND YET. AND YET IN THE END ITS ALL TRAGEDY AND COMEDY#TRAGEDY AND COMEDY THAT IS SO SO PAINFULLY UNBALANCED. SIGH.#WHATEVER CMERE BOY YOURE BECOMING AN OC OF MINE NOW UR GONNA BE IN SPACE AND UR NAME IS GONNA BE VINEGAR#UR STILL GONNA BE SHIP OF THESEUSED THOUGH. OOOHHH GABRIEEELLL GABRIEL MONTEEEZZZ#HOW MANY PEOPLE WERE BUILT INTO YOU.HOW MANY DID YOU LOVE AND CHERISH.HOW MANY TATTOOS DO U RECOGNIZE ON UR NEW ARMS#WHAT WAS IT LIKE? ON THE NIGHT U WERE SIRED?WERE YOU EXCITED? DID YOU SEE YOUR BOSS' FACE?WHAT WAS THIS PROMOTION LIKE?
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actually. the specific phrasing that boy Kevin wants to kill older Kevin with "I must disassemble him, piece by piece, so that everything inside of the Old Kevin comes out. Only then can the New Kevin truly begin." is so incredibly the idea that to heal from trauma and "improve" you have to destroy every "wrong" part of yourself, that everything "tainted" by it has to somehow be replaced by something untouched (which isn't possible)
#reading back that phrasing I do think that'll be the way brinknor takes it#this arcs seeming like it'll be so. breaking the cycle of abuse and violence and coming to terms with yourself#and maybe understanding that you can never remove the parts of you impacted by trauma and start again completely ''pure''#but you can treat yourself with the kindness you should've been given#which i hope it is that because. and understand i am biased. but i'd love that direction for Kevin#it feels much more satisfying than any more. angsty way this arc could go imo#like he's been through enough!#because of the way Kevin is portrayed in fanon. not as frequently anymore but still pretty common. I worry about coming off as woobifying#by saying I want him to heal I want him to have nice things I think he deserves them#when he's also simultaneously Not A Good Person#yknow the poor little innocent cinnamon roll baby etc etc fanon#but. well for one im Not Like That about him. but my main point of bringing that up is. him not being a good person is why I want to see hi#get better and generally have a good life. why does someone have to be good to deserve to heal from trauma#especially when trauma is a big reason for the way they are#like its fiction yeah yeah i'm still tired of mentally ill people having to be ''good'' to ''deserve'' to get better yknow#i mean especially in fiction you tend to either see mental illness as the poor traumatized one who's allowed recovery because they're nice#or the insane psychopath who cant be ''fixed'' so ''deserves'' bad things-up to deserving to die!- for it#i didnt mean for this to be a rant erm. oops#wtnv#wtnv spoilers#joyousposting
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Is this fanfic friendly? I feel like an outlier.
I guess this is my sign it's time to throw together a FAQ post to link to lol.
Yes, every event for this blog is fanfic friendly :D
Though as I mentioned on my Ominous October post, for events that include multiple short stories, I encourage everyone to flex their creativity and take one of their planned short story fanfics, and at least *attempt* to turn one of them into something entirely original; rebuilding a character and story from the ground up to stand on its own two legs is no easy feat, and that is what makes it so fun!
It really gets your creative gears turning, to make an "au of an existing material" to be something entirely original, and you can be pleasantly surprised about the things you come up with!
As a few people say, its not just a matter of "filing the serial numbers off" -- you have to add in just as much *or more* as what you take out when you are turning a fanfiction into something that is original and completely divorced from its original source material / inspiration, and that is a hard, but very rewarding challenge!
Obviously, this is not a requirement (there's no hard requirements for any of the challenges, other than no cheating, including no using AI),
but if you would like an extra challenge for the short story events and you're planning on doing entirely fan-fiction, I highly recommend trying it out at least once, and seeing where it leads you--
you may find yourself pleasantly surprised by what you find down that rabbit hole!
#replies#novella november#long rambly tags to follow lol#including anti royalist / anti billionaire shit#ominous october#this is what my novella november is going to be#something that WAS a huge earth-shattering fanfic AU#but before I even got past a WIP Oneshot I'd already realized that what I was planning was going to turn canon so far on its head it would#be unrecognizable and it would be much better off and more coherent if I made it entirely original#so now it is!#not only does this involve changing every single characters name#everyone is now a completely different species other than human because thats always fun#and of course we're also tackling all the issues that had annoyed me in omega verse fics since I was like 14 and liked the#creature aspects but hated the biological essentialism and misogny / caste systems#if your fantasy people have an enforced caste system you gotta actually treat that like the horror and systemic oppression it is#not just say 'biological = right' like dude what do you think people have been saying about real women this whole time????#people literally insist women are biologically inferior to men do you really think supporting that idea is going to make you sound#progressive just because your main character is a tomboy independant woman?#also like she lost all her independence as soon as she found a man to marry so uhhhhh#what happened to being ready and willing to hit the bricks if people kept talking down to you and condescending you for being a woman????#why did you go from independant badass tomboy to fainting damsel who spends all her time worrying about failing to produce an heir#so her husband can take power#instead of just straight up telling your husband#'hey I don't want to deal with the bullshit from your father how about we do the-#- socially acceptable thing and just go off to make our own independant settlement with some of the villagers who are on your side'#like your husband would literally be escstatic about this idea of finally getting out from under his dad's tyrannical thumb#and its more like way more than half the villagers would go with you not just a handful#theyve been sick of the kings shit for years and only your husband's potential rise to rule kept them in check#cus he actually cares about the villagers and goes among them#while still clearly having some biases to work through when it comes to class and gender equality
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i just lost two followers and it's making me laugh because judging by my most recent posts i assume they were diehard royalists? or at least people holding the british royal family in an unusually high regard? cry about it i guess idk, i do find it funny that you give a fuck though
on this note though of my followers holding different beliefs than me - if you're a terf? please kill yourself! i don't usually give a fuck because i just don't have it in me to start a war with everyone i disagree with but like. truly. if you hold any kind of prejudice against trans people whatsoever. fuck off from my blog lol i don't want you here
#ive got the shinigami eyes extension right#and sometimes i see people in my notes flagging up red#but i hate blocking people is the thing like i just don't do that#if someone who flags red reblogs me more than twice i'll block them though#but mostly i'm like. i don't want to block people. so i don't#but it's still like ohhhh my god. how are you reblogging my posts about dan and phil as a full on transphobe!!!!!#and dont be worried cause i vet all of these blogs#bc i know shinigami eyes isnt fool proof#sometimes someone gets marked red and they aren't actually a terf they just said one thing at one time that got misconstrued#like the bot isnt all that moderated#so any time i see a red url i will investigate to make sure they are in fact a terf#but man. MANNNNNN#my main point is like#do yall know dnp would fucking hate you lmfao#even if you somehow ignore the part where dan doesnt give a fuck about gender and none of it is real#and hes happy with all pronouns#like u can refer to her by he she they#doesnt matter#even if you ignore that#and all of the rest of it#how do you hear the things dnp say. frequently. all the time. and go. yeah i think me. a transphobe. should keep watching them#MAN IDK#youre all fucking weird
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🙈
#I feel. like I get too worried about putting my stuff in the tags LOL#or just too worried about ants in general#but to be fair I've come from some really infested fandoms#where people got reported for this stuff so hard they were removed from the site#idk if tumblr changed it though. maybe they did. where if someone hit a certain number of reports on their account they got removed#whether they were breaking TOS or not#I think that could have been changed because I don't see it happen anymore#but the more I cared about this tumblr acc the more scared of that I got LOL#it's been super peaceful though???#this could just be because I blocked like half the fandom before posting anything here#but I haven't received any hate mail & haven't had any sort of callout like I was expecting#and I guess mallesil isn't really SUPER controversial#it's leaning off the gray area lately but it is still in the gray area#I just feel like I'm cheating with how easy it is to ''get away'' with having HEY I LIKE INCEST front and center on my pinned and all#when I've seen someone get reported off the map for making one singular post saying they don't mind people who ship child characters#and I've just gotten away with posting sooo many mallesil posts in the main tags lately I'm like huh??? Did I ever actually need to worry?#it's kind of embarrassing I guess having several things in my Posts That Do Not Go Into The Main Tags#that I'm just now realizing were probably totally fine to put out there lol#like damn maybe I can just talk about lilia kissing silver with tongue and get away with it????#anyway#while I am on the subject of things I am embarrassed about for no reason#I feel especially bad lately for not posting like ANYTHING about sebek or lilia most of the time lol#I made a point to draw all the twst characters at least once a while ago but I don't think I've actually drawn sebek more than that?#sorry sebek I love you sebek :(#sebesil is such a good ship and I just have absolutely zero passion for it I DON'T KNOW!!! It just isn't there for me!!!#I like it a lot I love all the ship art for it I like seeing it pop up in fics#but if you leave me to my own devices I'm. not going to think about them even a little probably lol...#I do think about mallesebe sometimes though. I wrote about them once for the request. they're so fun they're so awful#and yet. most of the thoughts I have for mallesebe I'm just like hrmmmm this could be mallesil instead#sorry again sebek I love you sebek 😭
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whew haha
#🗒#my mom is like 'ok it's set let's tell everyone' and im like 😭😭😭😭 !!!!!#are u sure!!!! are u sure it's set like ???? 😭😭😭#ughhhhhh after this much trust i will literally kill myself if i dont get ANY scholarship lmaooooo#but also like. is it set now!!!! really !!!!!!! is it !!!!!#(excited but horrified and anxious)#like. like like like........ like i mean#um........ for real now? like are we sure for sure ??#i honestly will be like 100% on my way to [redacted] and still be like haha. is it for real#are we sure . will this actually happen#that's. crazy man#i cant help but feel like im asking for too much again. ughhhhhhh#yes hello hi. this blog has been my main outlet for emotional breakdowns about the same subject for um#(checks notes) a few months now. truly is anyone else bored of this ? because im so over it#but also like. things just dont get clear !!!!!! ever !!!!!#how can i be sure how can anyone be sure that i will actually be going lmfaooooo#i hate this waiting period i hate it why cant i know if i got anything or nah. but please don't say nah#ughhhhhh . alright. whatever it's not like i care that much honestly -_-#(threatens to kill self every day a few times over this btw)#anyway um let's. be positive#it will go great tomorrow 🤩 they will want to give me money sooooo bad 😍#and i will receive an email this week 🤗 about the wait list thing for SURE 🥳#i am doing amazing dont worry guys. im sooooo chill rn#Sorry for the constant embarrassing personal posts lol
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 216
Adjective: Pink
Noun: Peach
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Pink: of a color intermediate between red and white, as of coral or salmon; (of wine) rosé; (informal) (often derogatory) having or showing left-wing tendencies; of or associated with gay people
Peach: a round stone fruit with juicy yellow flesh and downy pinkish-yellow skin; a pinkish-yellow color like that of a peach; the Chinese tree that bears peaches; (informal) an exceptionally good or attractive person or thing
#sorry for being late again#at this point i dont know if i need to say why cos its almost always the same reason: accidentally falling asleep#which is the case this time#as for what happened today i met with our executive director for quite a few reasons#but pretty much the main one was for me to talk to her about how my supervisor has been treating me as of late#(specifically the past couple of months but especially this past week)#cos making me cry once and nearly making me cry another time right as im about to head to court for a hearing with a client is fucked up#and not at all how we should be treating each other (especially supervisors to their subordinates) at a domestic violence agency#and it seems like my supervisor is being so passive aggressive and outright mean to me because my coworker got fired#(shes shown favouritism toward that coworker)#(and im worried she thinks i got him fired when i was only one of many people to bring up to our executive director)#(the ways in which he was harming clients and doing things that are prohibited in our employee handbook)#but my conversation with our executive director went extremely well and made me feel validated and heard and safe/comfy#when it comes to the prompt i know it seems a little redundant or too straightforward#but there is something about it that strikes me as it being mystical or almost cottagecore in a way#it is very aesthetically pleasing to me and the feeling i get from it is nice#i just have absolutely no idea what to write about still#so im hoping something comes to me in due time#thanks for reading#writing#writer#creative writing#writing prompt#writeblr#trying to be a writeblr at least
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I don't think I've ever been in a relationship this healthy before I don't know what to do 💀
#mine#🎸#DUDE my feelings are so weird like i cant even describe them cause theyre all over the place. im hoping someone sees this and sends me an#ask or something with advice if this is even gonna make sense. because i am so confused lmfao#First of all im always expecting something to go wrong so i feel like it might be the absence of Problems thats throwing me off#But he reassures me all the time and genuinely cares about me? in regards to my last post we talked about it and he comforted me#i feel like im kind of in an emotional limbo where im still processing everything. my yan moments make appearances more than my dere#i feel so cringe saying that as a native english speaker. well im here to express my feelings not to be judged <3#but i definitely FEEL the jealousy more. like i exhibit both equally but im more emotional in a bad way than a good way#but its not cause of anything hes doing at all! hes perfect?! i dont know how to handle it!! i only know how to be jealous#at least if im mean im not as likely to get hurt and thats why im afraid to feel lovey things as much??? im making myself sound like#a bastard but ive just been feeling more anxiety and getting worried about Relationship Stuff and that kills the vibes#but he doesnt even mind he doesnt treat my problems like a burden. he isnt sick of them he doesnt abandon me. he loves me and i am still so#bewildered? like. hes the nicest guy ive ever dated. ill gush about new people i meet but they do have flaws. i just dont acknowledge them#because im so blinded by idolization. but for this one ive thought everything out i have PONDERED for so long and he really is just such a#good person. how? WHY?? he has not done anything wrong and its just my mental illness that causes ALL the problems. but he wants to#BE there and comfort me. what the fuck my brain is like short circuiting. people this nice exist? he doesnt want to use me??#and ofc this is all in the romantic sense. i still have friends that i value very much but this post is focused on romance#watch me say all this then he does something horrible. <-SEE IM SO NEGATIVE i expect things to go wrong#my main problem is im confused about my feelings they feel very tangled and muddled. im happy of course but i feel like the part of me that#feels romantic happiness/genuine satisfaction is all fucked up and broken. but he doesnt mind that im this way 🥲 WHY#HE ASSURES ME EVERYTHINGS OKAY he is there for me he cares about me but i cant wrap my head around it! im. this is so weird#one of my goals is to be less focused on being insane and actually get things done. w all my relationships i have a time blur thing#where i feel like time passes differently even more than it does for me. im just thinking so much bruh#right i think i was gonna go about getting adderall because of the everything all the time. im feeling numb but also#literally every emotion all at once. and it consumes me and my waking thoughts. i guess it was easier to ignore before?
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Thought about how I'm very privately a system (hidden from ppl ik)
And about what if a friend saw?
And how it would look
And literally fakeclaimed myself bc clearly I am one person (a singlet) pretending to act a different way intentionally and pretending that I have other identities, that it's a very intentional conscious decision
I can definitely control when I act in different ways guys-
The counter to that is the fact that yeah I have a fuzzy rough memory of that (likely hypothetical and not real) instance of doing smth as someone else. But also if I tried to do that NOW, I couldn't. Not naturally. Like it would be awkward as FUCK.
This only applies to like. 3 of us. Probably. As if there weren't only 5 of us distinctly (who knows how many other bits and bobs floating around) and that that's a majority. As if the fourth I didn't count wasn't 'me when I'm depressed as fuck'.
As if there probably isn't actually like 6-8 of us that can be 'identified' (that theoretical 1-3 extra is just questionably the 'default' me or if it's the mask we put up or not. And if others then it would be ones we used to have come out before moving, which (probably) haven't shown their faces ever since.)
Hhhhhh I love bring disconnected from myself internally /s
I love having no fucking clue who I am most of the time unless it's obvious enough to be like "oh I'm probably this one"
#sepiasys.txt#yeah my mindset changes and my thought voice changes and I feel different and tend to like different things and draw a bit differently ig#But also no I'm a singlet I definitely have a single cohesive identity and I definitely haven't basically forgotten anything past a week ago#I will say the main thing I still get worried about is like. Do I dissociate? Am I dissociated enough?? I just genuinely cannot tell at all.#And yeah I mean this is my normal so I wouldn't notice normally but it doesn't feel severe enough to warrant anything like DID :(#Mayhaps it's strong depersonalization >:) {'pretending' to treat it like a good thing}#Lacking opinions and identity and some emotions and stuff because I be so disconnected from myself frfr /lh#And the depersonalization is what causes the existential dread /J!!#Idk man I just don't feel like dissociation I have qualifies as severe enough :( But also (proceeds to counter myself again somehow)#I'm just gonna stop thinking about it now tbh =w=#Is it dissociating from myself if I simply do not care? (even if I do but not a lot/enough or theres mixed muddy opinions that are unclear?)#I will never understand. Could never tbh tbh-
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to weave my love ⭒ n. riki
⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.
⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader
⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)
⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!
⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end
⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.
What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you.
See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading.
In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now.
“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.” And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye.
“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?”
(Nope.)
Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?
Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class.
A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.”
“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording.
Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards.
The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing.
“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him.
You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.”
Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”
“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval.
Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room.
“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch.
Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows.
“I better hear you two are dating by next week.”
“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth.
“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag.
Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question.
“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.”
“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got.
Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”
The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English. “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?”
Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.”
“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.”
And they’re silenced immediately.
“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.”
Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”
“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?”
“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.”
“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.”
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.
All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert.
He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold.
He doesn't like it one bit.
Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area.
Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner.
A spark.
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself.
What the hell was that?
He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm.
Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man.
The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.
“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”
The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”
“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.
The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.”
That scared the shit out of him.
The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape.
What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him.
He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.
Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal.
“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”
The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him.
Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.
With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it.
Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars.
“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that
Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can.
His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving.
It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it.
No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero.
He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.
And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same.
His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you.
In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.
The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you.
When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby.
The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep—much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits.
“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project.
“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises.
What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago.
“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”
“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head.
“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“
You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.”
To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch.
One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line.
“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.
Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”
“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.
“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.”
“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response.
Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”
His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.”
The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.”
Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.”
“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.”
Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter.
“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.
“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.
“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.”
Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”
“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.”
“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.
“Gross.”
He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom.
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.
He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right?
Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM.
Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time?
Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.
The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes?
Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again.
The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark.
He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor.
He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy.
It’s attracted to the power plant.
Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims.
Bam.
He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed.
Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back.
This fight will, in fact, not be over soon.
With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity.
The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.
Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle.
It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop.
Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory.
All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest.
Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up.
He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds.
He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time.
The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.
But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him.
He’s most definitely not coming to school like this.
While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop.
Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein.
The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about.
Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text.
Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it.
The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy.
“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him.
“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?”
You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.”
Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?”
He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend.
“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom.
What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.”
“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?
He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.”
Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up.
Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.
Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?”
The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision.
“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria.
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.
Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task.
The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves.
Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more.
Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?”
He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down.
And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”
Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.”
Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?”
He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning.
“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination.
Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less.
He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish.
There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.
The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end.
You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.
“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag.
“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.
All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break.
Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask.
-
Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.
“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm.
“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?”
“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading.
“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”
You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”
Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.
RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM
☐ talk to ____ regularly
☐ don't make it awkward
☐ be..cute?
The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things.
He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?”
You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-”
“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago.
Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his.
“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice.
So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.”
The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.
“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise.
“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills.
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.
Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight.
Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.
For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member’s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.
There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings.
You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse.
Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.
Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.
The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists.
Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated.
A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.
“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.”
Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back.
The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle.
Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot.
He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance.
From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump.
He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse.
You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it.
You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist.
Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him.
You. He still needs to save you.
With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him.
Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended.
Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can– hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement.
He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.
Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists.
In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action.
Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop.
“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.”
You’d be a fool to do anything but wait.
Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go.
To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind.
He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.
Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion.
A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.
“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.”
Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.”
Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.”
“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.”
Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.”
He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?”
“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you.
Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?”
He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.”
Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?”
“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.”
Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit.
So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do.
“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened.
You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?”
Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.”
There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay.
“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?”
You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting.
Riki. Spark. Spider-Man.
“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.”
“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear.
“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs.
Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest.
‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.
Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain.
The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head.
What. The. Fuck.
Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities.
Until now.
“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.”
His blood runs cold.
“You think this…why?”
You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.”
Riki was going to strangle his best friend.
“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”
He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too.
“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation.
Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.
“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.”
You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?”
“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms.
You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly.
“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?”
“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?”
“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki.
You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are.
He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.”
As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate.
“Thank you for saving me tonight.”
“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart.
“Goodnight, Spiderman.”
—-
Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain.
Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.
The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue.
Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out.
The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something.
Nothing.
One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news.
He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago.
Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that.
Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something.
There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it.
The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow.
-
A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two.
Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant.
A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.
Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night.
He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring.
“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine.
“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.
With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away.
Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive.
“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.
Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him.
The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment.
“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more.
And the solution hits him. Literally.
When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge.
Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him.
“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen.
Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan.
Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies.
He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th
While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt.
Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down.
Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard.
All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm.
The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them.
Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead.
“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!”
Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks.
“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?”
Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.
The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge.
The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more.
The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop.
“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”
“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.”
Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions.
“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds.
“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.”
Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.
Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body.
You’ll understand after he explains everything, right?
“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach.
Do not say it’s true.
“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass.
“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you.
“Holy shit.”
There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony.
“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”
You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit.
Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.
The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?”
Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips.
He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers.
Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.
“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing.
“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?”
The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint.
“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow.
“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school.
“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet.
You pause. “For being Spider-Man?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”
“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”
“I really want to ask you to prom.”
You simply stare at him, surprised.
“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”
Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.”
You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel.
“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?”
“Jake.”
“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze.
“For what?”
“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you.
“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”
You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”
“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed.
“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.
“How’d Jake find out?”
Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”
“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.”
“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head.
“Not stupid. Keep going.”
“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.”
You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class.
“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly.
The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt.
Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things.
There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.
You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.
It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”
“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod.
You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.”
You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore.
“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.”
MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE.
He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest.
Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.
But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug.
Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach.
“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear.
He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.”
NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.
But first, he has to try something out.
He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago).
“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand.
He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised.
The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain.
When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze.
“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!”
Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you.
Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.”
“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”
“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.”
You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you.
“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.
“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe.
“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting.
“I thought girls liked this.”
You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose.
Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?”
Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.
You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.
“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.”
“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him.
“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man.
Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.
“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration.
“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.
You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.”
REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!
RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)
꣑ৎ permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith
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